social commentary
There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
How To Break Yourself Down. Honorable Mention in Instructions for a Feeling Challenge.
What does it take to break yourself down? // Start with the trachea, removing your voice so you cannot scream out the pain // Crack open your sternum, breaking out rib-by-rib // Choose to place them gently on the table or throw them in the dirt and hope you are holy enough for a woman to incarnate // Snap your pelvic bone into thirds, one for each leg and one for you // Drain the spinal fluid and eat the cartilage so the vertebrae rattle together and beacon foxes to feast // Make a hollow booming of you femurs // Beat the timpanis with your tibias to announce the death of your flesh and toll against your ossicles // Pop your metatarsals out, always longer than expected // Lastly, tap your fingers against your skull before you separate the proximal from the middle from the distal // Use your teeth // Now found together, skuttle amongst the crabs who will pick you clean of memory of sin and sainthood // in an animalistic life you imagined to live.
By Ariana GonBonabout a year ago in Poets
The Last Vote
Ethan Clarke’s hands trembled as he gripped the cold metal railing of his balcony. Below, the streets buzzed with the fading cheers from his election rally. At twenty-eight, he was the youngest provincial assembly member ever elected from his district — a victory that surprised even his closest supporters. His campaign had been different: promises of transparency, justice, and a government that worked for the people — not the powerful elite. But standing alone in his modest apartment that night, Ethan felt the true challenge had only just begun. His district was a reflection of the country’s biggest problems — corruption, inequality, and political violence hidden behind the mask of democracy. But Ethan believed change was possible. He had to believe it. The next morning, under a gray sky, Ethan sat at his new office desk, buried in letters and files from worried citizens. Then his phone buzzed: a message from Malik Shah, the party’s senior leader. “Welcome to the big leagues, kid. Meet me at the club tonight. We have much to discuss.” Ethan knew the “club” wasn’t just any place. It was where real power was traded — far from public eyes. That evening, Ethan stepped into the luxurious Elysium Club, a playground for the city’s political elite. Expensive art lined the walls, but the air was heavy with secrets and veiled threats. Malik Shah greeted him with a practiced smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Congratulations, Ethan. You’re a bright young man,” Malik said, pouring whiskey. “But politics isn’t about idealism. It’s about power. And power demands compromise.” Ethan nodded, though his heart sank. Malik slid an envelope across the table. Inside were photos and documents exposing rigged voter rolls, fake polling stations, and cash bribes to community leaders. “Look closely. These are the truths that keep the wheels turning. We all have a role in this game.” The reality hit Ethan hard: the system was far more rotten than he’d imagined. Weeks passed. Meetings with party elders became routine, their advice thinly veiled warnings. One night, while reviewing documents, Ethan discovered a contract awarded to a shell company linked to a rival faction planning to rig the upcoming national election on a massive scale. His hands shook. This wasn’t just local corruption — it was a conspiracy threatening the country’s democracy. A warning message from Malik Shah appeared on his phone: “Careful where you poke your nose, kid. Not everyone wants the truth to see daylight.” The walls were closing in. Ethan faced a painful choice: stay silent and protect his political future — or expose the conspiracy and risk everything. Late that night, his phone rang. It was Nadia, an investigative journalist he trusted. “I’ve heard whispers about vote rigging in your district and beyond,” she said. “If you have proof, this could change everything.” Ethan hesitated. “It’s bigger than just my district. But if I speak out… they’ll come after me.” “Then we need to be smart. The people deserve the truth.” Together, they gathered evidence — recordings, transaction records, eyewitness accounts — a mountain of proof revealing the dark side of the upcoming election. The risks grew real. Strange cars followed Ethan. Threatening notes slipped under his door. Finally, the day came. At a packed press conference, Ethan stepped up and laid out everything — naming names, exposing the rigging scheme. The nation erupted. Protests filled the streets. The government launched investigations. Arrests followed. But victory came at a cost. Former allies turned their backs. Party leaders branded him a traitor. His phone fell silent — except for one caller: Malik Shah. “Smart move, kid,” Malik’s voice was cold. “But remember, you’ve won a battle, not the war.” In the weeks that followed, headlines ranged from “Young Whistleblower Shakes Nation” to “Traitor or Hero?” The people were divided, but the demand for fair elections grew louder every day. Though the party disowned him and friends distanced themselves, Ethan found strength in his mother’s words from long ago: “Standing for what’s right isn’t easy. But it’s the only way to change the world.” His phone buzzed again — Nadia’s warning: “They’re closing in. Be careful.” The government formed a special committee, and the evidence was undeniable. High-ranking officials were arrested, and election reforms promised. But the scars ran deep. One evening, Malik Shah reached out with an offer: “Come back. Influence the system from within. We can protect you.” Ethan declined. The price of silence was too high. Change required more than courage — it needed persistence. Months later, Ethan stood before a crowd in his district square, no longer a politician, but a citizen activist. The movement he helped ignite was growing, inspiring others to demand accountability. As the sun set over the city skyline, Ethan smiled. The last vote wasn’t just about an election — it was about awakening a nation’s conscience.
By Arshad khanabout a year ago in Poets
