social commentary
There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
Devolution
We were once pack animals Wolves close and true to each other Protecting the young, the sick, and the elderly From attack, weather, and starvation Now we are lone wolves Each striving to be alpha wolf Using tools and weapons To out-do each other To outlive each other And turn our backs Against each other But lone wolves howl at the moon Longing for their pack And rarely thrive on their own Our brains may be bigger Our tools may be sharper Our lives might seem longer —But have we evolved?
By Stephanie Hoogstad3 months ago in Poets
When Nobody Notices Your Tears
When Nobody Notices Your Tears You smile for the world though your heart feels tired, Pretending you’re strong when your soul feels expired. Nobody sees the battles you fight in your head, The nights full of worries when you lie in your bed.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
QuietLoud
The quiet's gotten loud, and the loud's gone quiet; and change is not allowed, so we don't even try it. It's easier than ever to live and die alone; rehearsing 'till forever, how to lie beneath a stone. Once again I'm here, on the dark side of a portal that's in my hand and head, and shows me the world, all flashing and spinning in and out of control clashing and winning, at the bargain price of a soul. We are dying of this noise, that we cannot live without; We are dying of this noise, that we cannot live without. We tune in to it all, just to tune all of it out. The QuietLoud, the QuietLoud, the QuietLoud.
By Gabriel Huizenga3 months ago in Poets
The Girl in Question. Runner-Up in Static Challenge. Content Warning.
Identical same/same/same signal denier days She’s an abject construct of apathetic context "All the boys love Kaylee-Anne” Yet in this slipshod town, love is lost on trust Perhaps they love hard a little too much¿?¿ Androgyny only shields her at surface level Because flesh-deep beauty and so-so-supple skin Are the rarest, restless commodities, and silence SPEAKS: take a keen cut from her, she’s so easy! An evergreen, always-virginal breeze, it’s like The ultimate palette cleanser for budding Been-there-done-her-she’ll-sate-until-college Static subtypes, every midwestern shithole Claims the same consent-phobic jocks lining Up for licks of innermost, intimate, innocent Double-digit fingers nailing her peony prize Why does she smell so fucking sweet¿?¿? Blame it on booze or "PeEr PrEsSuRe"... but She’ll always remember, while this traduced Town churns copycat scenarios sans a care
By Edward Swafford3 months ago in Poets
