There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
Metrosideros polymorpha Comes in Orange, yellow, and most commonly red Grows in the uplands of the Hawaiian islands Used frequently in traditional island life
By Keolamaupono Sagario4 years ago in Poets
If I asked you to draw a picture of yourself If I promised, I would draw one too If we sat down across from one another Would it bother you if I chose
By The Invisible Writer4 years ago in Poets
What is one to do, when your dreams are more fulfilling than the life that chose to lead you. When you give your heart and soul
By Rheanna Douglas4 years ago in Poets
FROM ALL WALKS OF LIFE FROM SEA TO SHINING SEA WE ARE IN THIS TOGETHER YOU AND ME AN ENEMY WE CANNOT SEE HAS INVADED OUR BODIES
By Joye C Lange4 years ago in Poets
Old is the land, old is my hand. My body, my soul. I wake with the weight of a blanket, a patchwork blanket, of decades, thrown over my body. It’s weight is a comfort, familiar and reassuring. Each patchwork, a different season, a different turning. Continually I add to this blanket of my life. All the episodes of my life, sewn together with threads from other’s lives.
By Katie 4 years ago in Poets
The mantra "protect black women" has been bastardized, Said Lovelyti who criticized, She shared her opinion of an intention fantasized,
By 'Vive Akugha4 years ago in Poets
OUR WORLD IS IN CHANG LOCKDOWNS EVERWHERE8 SO MUCH SADNESS DEATH AND DESPAIR THE WORLD DESERVES BETTER LIVES FILLED WITH JOY
I think family is the beginning of being in a box. I think parents raise you in a box, And life out there expects you to think out of the box without forgetting what you learnt while you were in a box.
By Poetfric4 years ago in Poets
As a man walking to work, Using a matatu to get to work, Taking a cab sometimes to get to work, This city has taught me how to protect myself from itself,
Consumption for me has never been tough. No matter how much I eat, nothing’s ever enough. I’m the bottomless pit you should never feed. My heart forever bleeds from my appetite called forever greed.
By Joe Patterson4 years ago in Poets
Falling and the bottom's insight, but not the one you believed. In freefall despite trying with all your might, now seeing the end, you're relieved.
By Jason Ray Morton 4 years ago in Poets
The tanks crunch over the line in the sand past open fields, little houses and dirt roads, and dogs and cats and ageing babus with mismatched hats,
By Michèle Nardelli4 years ago in Poets
