There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
Your poem's a posture. A throne on a hill made of rules you wrote yourself. A sermon in lowercase. All purity, no peril.
By Danielle Katsourosabout a year ago in Poets
What was I doing now? Just now, was that a cow? Where did I put my list? Want to play a game of whist? What did you say your name was?
By Denise E Lindquistabout a year ago in Poets
Built on past disappointments and lies, unseen by the stranger passing by. Constructed of whispers and hollow words. This house, also known as “a curse”,
By Sun Beeabout a year ago in Poets
She ran high on stilettos and pride, intoxicated by the atmosphere of her small town. Respected, yet ignored all else. Believing this was it.
God made a wife to be loving, diligent and dutiful with a smile on her face, she will always be beautiful to tend to the needs of her dear husband and sweet growing child
By Connieabout a year ago in Poets
How do you talk to the ghost of the unknown? What to do when you’re alone in room full of people It’s your personal rain cloud on a sunny day
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
They say that Rembrandt knew the secret of painting character. We too must paint our characters ourselves but not in oils, not with bristles—
By William Alfredabout a year ago in Poets
India is land of patriarchy, things are changing they show, but, girls are seen as burdens, they fear the birth of a daughter,
By Seema Patelabout a year ago in Poets
The Ship That Sails To The Bottom Of The Sea They laughed when we climbed the rusted plank, barnacles biting at every blank
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
Do you hear the people sing? Amid the booming drums of war People in their thousands Who've found something worth killing for
By Alexander McEvoyabout a year ago in Poets
Ache— the kind that sucks the life out of you, that stabs your soul like a rusted dagger dipped in poison. I bleed out,
By Lolly Vieiraabout a year ago in Poets
I was thinking today— it’s been 14 years of life, as an immigrant, in faraway continent. Yes, I do feel nostalgic, for native India, sometimes,
