There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
The Spirit Who Asked Us to Lie A mythic film-poem by Vicki, with Echo, and Sweetie sailing toward the Isle of Outstages Café.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli about a year ago in Poets
It’s not appropriate to accuse me of cultural appropriation. That is a denigration of my culture of appropriation. My culture is theft. As a generation whatever of American Mutt, my traditions are rooted in the things we’ve stolen. Liberating your land and freedom, to make room for our own. Pilfering your labor, so your sweat and tears can feed the leisure we planted. Hijacking your song, rinsing it clean of sorrow and blood. Running it through decades of autotune until we can dance to it without rhythm or irony.
By Sean A.about a year ago in Poets
Static Between Us We speak in snow— not the kind that falls, but the kind that hisses on a midnight screen. Your voice arrives grainy,
By Milan Milicabout a year ago in Poets
Paper-Thin Thunder The storm arrives not with fists, but with envelopes— thin, trembling, addressed to every quiet room inside me.
I see you: those of you hunched by the weight of 1000 generations, ancestors squabbling atop of your small shoulder blades.
By Ella Bogdanovaabout a year ago in Poets
Beautiful people Removed from their land By God’s hand They were forced on to someone else’s land They took their stand
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
Lantern light Shining bright Shepherding a guarding knight Magically it glows And shows Who strangers are Travelling away and far
By Marc OBrienabout a year ago in Poets
Strike the match. Set the flame. Light the wick. Replace the pane. The Lantern lit, gives a soft glow. Darkness recedes.
By ZaftigGeekabout a year ago in Poets
This year was like ice cracking under your feet— It was thin in the places that I thought were solid. The sky was bruised, and the mornings were gray as ash.
By Dylan Deckardabout a year ago in Poets
The poisonous bliss Veracity once hidden In reality’s nuance Insincerity dripping Like melted gold From crimson lips So enticing
By K.B. Silver about a year ago in Poets
Caged wings of borrowed time, trill sweet with lungs of stone, trembling gold on the blunt edges of the crag. Incandescent, burning in forgotten song.
By River and Celia in Underlandabout a year ago in Poets
Where the Sun Sleeps There is a place where the sun sleeps. Behind a field of wild heather and rain. I go there when the world feels too loud,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
