social commentary

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

Hey Black Man
It’s not easy wearing these dark shoes A black man’s shoes are painful And covered in the dust Of slave shacks Living in America in fear
By Estacious White4 years ago in Poets
What have we become?
Who's that? Who are you? What's that? What is it doing? ~ Where are we? How did we get here? Will we ever go back
By Josephine Mason4 years ago in Poets
Give & Take
you take and take and take and take but what do you give back? you take love you take money you take compliments but what do you give back?
By Simara Askew4 years ago in Poets
To My Pandemic Baby
In these trying times it’s hard to find The peace of mind to sleep at night News and articles sound like We’re living in the end times
By Jennifer Rae4 years ago in Poets
lies we are told + tell ourselves
The worst lie i was ever told was that you died. You did, but not like that. The worst lie i was ever told was that everything was going to be okay. It will, but not for a while still. The worst lie i was ever told was that you loved me. You do, but not the way i need to be loved.
By Ziggy Rey4 years ago in Poets
The Dream in Teinaman Square
Last night I had the strangest Dream; It was of Flowers in a Square. As I walked through that unreal scene, Each Flower told what brought it there.
By Mark Stigers 4 years ago in Poets
Children of the Lost Pages
We are all weird and outcasted. We don't want to pay our bills but need Netflix like life support to cope. We are starving while craving a nostalgia that has long escaped our frames of mind.
By Nova Binx4 years ago in Poets
Stop Living in the Past
Stop living in the past. Seriously, the present is where it’s at. Stop obsessing about the future while life is passing you by.
By Melissa Steussy4 years ago in Poets
Youth
Sitting here thinking About these ghetto youths. All the struggles they face. All their dirty boots. Its time they stop, Rod and kill, and shoot But it’s the struggles of life Which forces them to loot. Could we but educate our sons, And feed them truth. What do you see when? You are looking into these mother’s eyes. And watch her son bleed out, And hear her woeful cries. And as his blood runs cold, Here comes the wretched flies. Remember Timbuktu? And the pyramids Diamond, Onyx and Gold In all our villages. We had great books of old Knowledge unlimited. Spiritual phenomenon unfold, From kabalistic scrolls. Black men rise up! You who once walked on water. You who told the meaning To pharaoh’s dreams. From your lineage came The Shepard who killed goliath. Egyptians, Assyrians, Babylonians. We are all that and more. We have been slaves We have been slavers. We have been gods. We have been godless. But most of all we have been So why are we now? Oppressed, suppressed, repressed? Being marginalized yet idolized?
By Stieve Fernandez4 years ago in Poets
War
The fog, thick! The morning, damp. Blood soaked earth. A soldier’s camp. Carrion birds high. Death stained air. Wounded warriors cry. Stone cold faces Void of fear! Plumes of smoke. Worm towards heaven. Buttoned his cloak. Sat around the fire. Soldiers! Approximately seven. Whiskey bottle passing. Drowning their pain. Anyone hungry? Asking. Stirring the beans. Reheating the grain. From his pocket, A letter retrieved. Eyes, sunk ’n sockets. Her perfumes faded! Heart wrenched! Grieved! Through the window Watching, sobbing! Bereaved! Assumed herself a widow. Refusing to wave. Now! Gone! Relieved! Cozy little cottage. Once was a home. Favorite meal, pottage. Evenings she’d make. He wants some! No love here! Only the brave! Life without care! Inside they’re dead! Awaiting the grave! The Stillness fractured! Balls of lead. Blood vessels raptured! Five fleeing soldiers! Two shattered heads! The pot overturned. Whiskey bottle spilling. Covertly they returned. The enemy faction. Making a killing! ‘T was once romantic Dreaming of war. Running! Freezing! Frantic! Her letter lost. He’s forever scarred! Two souls stolen. Death’s hideous grasp! One leg, broken. Twigs, they fashioned, A makeshift cast. Now five soldiers. Just one musket. Carried on shoulders. Leg badly shattered! Wayward sounding trumpet! Safety yards away. Enemies in pursuit. Look! Guards! Hooray! Last words spoke! Enemy musket smoke!
By Stieve Fernandez4 years ago in Poets
Fidel
Your cattle eat my grass. Whilst mine starve and die. Consider yourself the upper cast. Whilst I in the mire lie. “History will absolve me” Controlling my nations produce. Exporting its wheat and rye. My meal has no nutritional use. Yet to my face you lie. “History will absolve me” Your daughters, princesses. Mine, are prostitutes. Your daughters, sleep in castle recesses. Mine, roam the streets with brutes. “History will absolve me” You spend your summers at the beaches. Me? In the cane fields, a vagabond! You, eating me and my children, leeches! Though we never entered a pond! “History will absolve me” Abuela cannot afford cataract surgery. Corruption is the authority’s mission. Will you politicians ever get arrested for perjury? As seen by the clairvoyant in her visions! “History will absolve me” Your police laugh at my dying sons. I can still hear their dreadful cries. Each morning at the rising sun. I see dead bodies laden with flies. “History will absolve me” Shall I not want for better? Does my ambition not overflow inside? Is it not why I’m called ‘go getter’? Or do I simply sit and wait by the wayside? “History will absolve me” Is it not natural, legal even? That a man should fight to save his self, His family, his nation? Condemn me! It matters not! “History will absolve me”
By Stieve Fernandez4 years ago in Poets
Piracy
Heavily he coughs, alone! He laughs. Blood ooze from his mouth. A deep dreadful gasp. Eyelids flung wide open. Eerily staring left to right. Slowly he slips from this world. Laying on his back. He slips into the darkness. A sudden rush o sensation! Drags him back to the living. Mechanically his spine flexes. Bringing him to a sitting position. Forcing his cloudy eyes open. Looking around the room bewildered. Searching! ‘Could this be hell of heaven?’ His mind jump starts and accelerate! ‘How am I still here?’ he asks his thoughts. His heart beats like a runaway engine. I should be dead by now. Yet staring back at him, three guards. A fourth a doctor! It seems. “That’s it come back to us!” The doctor menacingly says. Injecting a concoction in his vein. “Trying to cheat the ‘angman?’ Stepping closer, a guard asks. “Ya think suicide shall save ya!” “Ya lowlife pirate scum!” “At sunrise ya shalt provide,” “The public with amusement” “And the ‘angman with fun!” “Ah, doc! Preparing the execution ‘as begun. His arms now tightly bound. To the chair in which he sits. The break of dawn crawls into his cell A soft blue glow descends upon him Somewhere a cock crows piercingly. Shattering the silence of dawn. “Your last meal above ground” Says a guard before letting out a yawn. The rattling of keys. Clank! With a screech his cell door opens. A warm drink in a tin cup. A slab of bread. “No meat?” he asks The guard makes a hysterical laugh. “What for?” returns the guard “Y’ll be dead before it gets digested!” The cell door slams shut, the guard chuckles. Hands still bound. “Damn you guard!” He sits staring at the stem escaping the cup. Outside, the crowd gathers at the gallows. The air thick with excitement. A peddler offers smoked oysters from a cart. A young child sits on her dad’s shoulders. Affording a clear view of the spectacle. Her dad nibbles at peanuts. A gate opens! The crowd cheers! Out comes the procession, escorted by guards. Nathaniel Gordon, making his way to meet God. An official, the hangman and the noose. Standing on the gallows, waiting. A small flight of stairs The noose affixed to his neck. A nod from the hangman. “Nathaniel Gordon, for the crime” “Of piracy in breach of the act “ “Of 1820. You have been found guilty.” “And hereby sentenced to be hung by the neck till dead!” “May god have mercy on your soul!” As if on cue, the hangman, Pulls a lever. The crowd goes wild!
By Stieve Fernandez4 years ago in Poets