There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
Paralysed I perceived deeper within and wider without, Entering the El Al² plane fluttering to Israel stout. ----- Never had I been so afraid and so proud to be Jewish.
By Patrick M. Ohana2 years ago in Poets
doubt— it is sewn onto my back like a quilt it is warm with familiarity and heavy on my shoulders doubt weighs me down with immensity
By angela hepworth2 years ago in Poets
Beeep. The oven is preheated Guess that school degree can wait. What's for dinner? ~ Why don't you tell me instead Tell me it'll all be ok when
By Amber Allehoff2 years ago in Poets
I’ve been there before, where one wrong step leads to a thousand more. Lend your money, lose your friend - that’s what they say.
By Sun Bee2 years ago in Poets
Fly me to the moon can we trust the rockets more doubting air safety ✈️ controllers were fired by the convicted felon no confidence now
By Andrea Corwin 2 years ago in Poets
The Frame Narrative The story begins with a prologue in which Chaucer introduces the setting: a group of 29 pilgrims gather at the Tabard Inn in Southwark, near London, preparing for their pilgrimage to Canterbury. The host of the inn, Harry Bailey, suggests that to pass the time, each pilgrim should tell two tales on the way to Canterbury and two on the way back. The best storyteller will receive a free meal upon their return, paid for by the other pilgrims.
By Mr Ali2 years ago in Poets
Grey smoke cover dim, buzzing lights by a black pool of mud, never used before. By the pacific highway at sleazy E-Z8 motel
By Dark Constellations2 years ago in Poets
(to the tune of 'It's a Long Way to Tipperary', for anyone old enough to have heard the song) It's Elon's way and you'll get nothing
By Marie McGrath2 years ago in Poets
I don't have a podcast I don't have a clue I can barely do Facebook And Instagram too. ------- I lose my phone daily My keys disappear
I'll be a good little smart girl who silenced her lips, So, you don't find discomfort that sits, I'll fix my mouth and shutter my mind,
By Hazel Steele2 years ago in Poets
The sun is missing again. Days stretch long and colorless, grey swallowing grey, and my skin—my black skin— is losing its fire, its glow,
By Marvelous Michael2 years ago in Poets
Ramadan Is round the corner Perfect time to Putin order Turn the corner look away Close the border can’t they hey Commentating Jerry Lawler
By Haychie_Artist2 years ago in Poets
