social commentary

There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.

unforgotten me
i find myself resting at peace in the death that follows a day with no more to be done and nothing more to say i can lie naked without the robes that i willingly bear
By Caroline Jane3 years ago in Poets
Selling for parts
I used to like to express myself through my art. Flaunt my parts like parts. Cuz that’s what sells … According to sales..
By Kay Israel3 years ago in Poets
Man-eater
Up all night, my stomach is growling. See my teeth? You’ve got me snarling. Swear on God that I am starving. Can’t wait to sink my teeth in you.
By Desmond Razzano3 years ago in Poets
The two apples
Two girls pondered off in the forest
By shireen naaz3 years ago in Poets
Connections
Tick, tick, tick seconds race by I see it, the tap of your foot as you have to wait precious seconds to get served to have your needs met...
By KC3 years ago in Poets
Red Box of the Queen
You left us during the season change You have survived all these years Standing on guard Of our common country COVID couldn’t put you off
By Moon Desert3 years ago in Poets
behind the curtains of a home brothel
hoovering the remnants of your love making at midnight your female caterwaul in the rutting time without an accompanying male voice
By Moon Desert3 years ago in Poets
Ghosts of Kyiv. Top Story - September 2022.
Borders are broken Like treaties and trust As under heavy foot fall Approach the invaders Each step dragging a bloody Heel until the map
By Kincaid Jenkins3 years ago in Poets
Broken and Brought Together
For a moment In time the thing That broke us Brought us together. Party lines did Not matter As we watched In horror
By Michelle Renee Kidwell3 years ago in Poets
Crescent Wank
so i got a pile of stick books out and arranged them all by name Hustler Mayfair Playboy Penthouse ensuring that none of them were the same
By Bren3 years ago in Poets
Ed...
1. he touched me on my bum bum he touched me on my knob he mumbled incoherently something about a job he grabbed me on the bum again
By Bren3 years ago in Poets
Always There
When the winds of depression blow over me, Chilling cold, Yet scorching hot inside, You're always there. When the anxiety of mid-life confusion,
By Misty Rae3 years ago in Poets