social commentary

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

The Long Walk to Freedom
How did I get here?... was a question often asked– There was no easy answer I had survived the humdrum of life’s melodrama—along with the earth defying onslaught of family matters–
By Elizabeth Vitols6 years ago in Poets
Judaeo-Christian Corporate Lifestyling
child they will capture you with sweet words of seduction whisper honey and cream into your ears promise twenty acres and a mule
By John Ridgway6 years ago in Poets
After All the Years of Freaking Out About Being Didactic
can't be another hitler in those dark shades that bleed away all the color reduce these visions to black and white I post-modern man all wary
By John Ridgway6 years ago in Poets
Reclaimation
I will no longer police my feelings For royalty sitting on a throne of lies. I’ll not kneel on a floor of shit, To appease their empty, puling cries.
By Paige Graffunder6 years ago in Poets
Tomorrow
Tomorrow is a fresh day I’ll do it tomorrow Brand new way Brand new me I’ll do it tomorrow That diet I’ve read about Do that tomorrow
By M. Lee, MFA6 years ago in Poets
A Black Boy's Mother. Top Story - August 2019.
I can storm the streets in anger, Yelling loud - with fire in my hand, A rasp to my voice. I can fly to Charlottesville,
By Hope Martinez6 years ago in Poets
The Smell of Thunderstorms
I love the smell of thunderstorms. Rain pouring from the sky. I sit here, high anxiety, but why?! Sirens screaming. URGENCY! EMERGENCY! but ironically there isn't any.
By Sarai Jakubczak6 years ago in Poets
Awake
I see beyond the black and the white// political hatred being justified as a right// fixated views on our skin pigment alone//
By Ruben Gonzales6 years ago in Poets
Looking in
I’m outside your window looking in on your world, but all I can see is nothing. No colour No depth No dreams No life You’re an empty shell, the carcass of some creature left behind after the carnivores picked the good meat and left the rest to rot. You wasted your best years, gave up on those stars - they always hung that little bit too far out of reach, didn’t they?
By testedTransgressor 6 years ago in Poets
Downtown Drudgery
i could probably move a seabed with my ideas or control the pull of the moon defy gravity or something i don’t really know
By savage writer6 years ago in Poets
Heavy
Life is heavy Sometimes too heavy to hold It gets overwhelming like a wave of chaos a tsunami of negativity people can be like that too
By Katie Green6 years ago in Poets
Not a Pretty Mirror
This is my mirror. It lives in my mind, in my moments, lives in my memories, and in my mistakes. And I cannot escape from it.
By Cici Quez6 years ago in Poets