There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
Children Should Be Taught Manners Children should be taught manners. It is not good to hear a child swear. A soft word is better than sharp words,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
"I should be much more careful with what I desire..." I say as my eyes scroll down the list of my most Dangerous Wishes, my mouth reciting, on after another‐
By JMabout a year ago in Poets
The Language of Hands They speak without tongues, soft syllables pressed in palms, a grammar of warmth, where fingers fold like paragraphs,
By Numan writesabout a year ago in Poets
Just as the world tilts forward, Your heart leaps in your throat And you wish you could turn back. But you know that's just the lurching of your stomach.
By Hope Martinabout a year ago in Poets
An appetizer should be the prep For a meal that will be a first step. - Drinks (an aperitif or two) * Sides will have to be such
By Kendall Defoe about a year ago in Poets
Can I get my tickets here, And is anything good playing this afternoon? * My friends might bring beer (They told me they’d be here soon).
I am plagued by people that historically choose every other option except me. I have been taught that out of sight is out of mind for humans too.
By Moni Staxxabout a year ago in Poets
The Fire Remembers Fireplace roars with its old tongue, the clock above keeps its still watch. Hands moving yet never hurried,
This was blood moon weekend. This was a silent weekend with mindless meditation. Sweetie Bird and I are. How are you? ARTGURU
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli about a year ago in Poets
A dim witted, suit fitted, Calvanist mortician Me an embalmed, tag along, severe lack of contrition Fluorescent divine darkness, cubicle coffin, purgatorious condition
By Harrison July Hamlettabout a year ago in Poets
The grasshopper lies heavy on a single blade It bends with its weight Swaying in the breeze As the grasshopper rubs its knees
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
A Top Story Birth The top story now is written in fire through the streets like a restless choir voices rise and fold in the air
