There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
Lights dim on another perfect evening Seeing isn't supposed to be believing Everything is going to be fine The clouds will fade, the sun will start to shine
By Adèle Vickers8 years ago in Poets
When the winding sheet of history coils Stiffly around handrail and chimney stack, I’ll be reminded it’s no longer enough
By Daniel Wade8 years ago in Poets
I was born and raised in the haze they tend to proclaim the happiest nation of them all. Which should be reflected in my smile
By Cecilie Birkshøj8 years ago in Poets
We went down the pit when I was a lad, We set off in't morning with brother Jack and dad, Arriving at the pithead, and then down in the cage,
By DAVID PRIOR8 years ago in Poets
Those who give are not always givers Of hearty or plentiful sustenance They are fickle that throw gifts of puny pertinence
By Jordan Williams8 years ago in Poets
No Friend! I try to tell them that you’re no friend. They say you are, till the very end. You consume their lives and make them blue,
By Rose Knight8 years ago in Poets
Everyone takes his own route, But we all arrive at the same destination: The cold granite headboard awaits us all. You might choose the expressway in the city,
By Fred Bobbitt8 years ago in Poets
Fortress. I see it that way, with heavy doors and gate keepers, well, the bouncers, pulling glass doors with an extra grunt.
By Ti Ana8 years ago in Poets
So it is as it has always been, the illustrious struggle between now and then, between the here and now, and if and when,
By Michael Giglio8 years ago in Poets
Insane, membrane, brain barrier, Fall over and feel, The grass pressing softly, sharply, Until you can walk, not reel.
By Colin Hope8 years ago in Poets
No one knows why they're spraying trails in the sky... it's not natural. Some say they're now invisible, but that they're still spraying.
Drumsticks the parallels to future rhythm feelings tin garbage cans mirages for metaphors like the "gutter brain" sit and wait tired so hate it lick a fentanyl patch and get elated
By pasha alekseyev8 years ago in Poets
