Learn more about other poetry terms
The pursuit of dreams is fucking bullshit Unless you dream of becoming exactly what the colleges can give you Or capitalistic America Or anyone
They are some of many billions Some do walk-ins, some do sit-ins One eats plenty, enough for four One is but a raw, empty core
There was a capitalist named Ghost.All folks recognize him as the host.He tried to conduct a show,But the trolls made him so slow.He then devours a lot of rib roast.
Our god is green so things are never as they seem,Freedom rings but are we really free?People still being exploited like the Cree,In the land of history repeated,Was hatred every truly defeated? When Lincoln died, he believed us to be unified,Jim
Back then the world had just become round, the map curling and folding, from a rectangle into a globe. The people came from the eastern ocean and thrust their flags into the ground.
We live in a culture of vultures We don’t even have time to breathe We are only supposed to succeed and conceive Because what else are we supposed to believe?
Your greed flowers poisoned petals Their immaculate beauty shielding truth hunger in vacant stomachs will not quench lust for shriveled greenery will never stop and you my friend are in chains to me
i. the cacophony of capitalism mutes the euphony of birds ii. you can still hear it the harmonizing of birds against the white noise of construction
Inanimate objects are the strive for empty feelingIn a void of a preconditioned milieu Addiction flourishes in this Skinner Box of incentivized need wherein the commodity breeds the commoditized manA philistine in need is unlettered indeed in the
Deodorant sent them to space
a faith disgraced by a nation based in fetishization racialization nocturnal whores hounds of war profiting off each other Stupid fucking humans Stupid fucking rulesKilling off each other Leaving only fools
Scared screams fill the streets, As they watch their city torn, From the roots of the trees, To the fields of corn. Their small homes fall, And burn to the ground, With flames so tall,
The rich g
As a woman I am told to be quiet Keep it down They try to keep me down Below you, looking up On my knees, I exist only in ways that service you They want me to hear, not to speak
Hey! This is a poem that I wrote describing the unfair economic system in America and how I feel being a woman of color in the USA and the daughter of refugees.
notorious for advertising secret eyes hide behind corporate lies, trademark mind trust in me & faith you'll find silky smooth, underhand politely rude fashion sense
Class, class, class. School, school, school. They tell you this, play by their rules. You play the game, you take a roll. Throw the dice, you never know. Hoping that you land on the envied square.
I really don't get the point of a lot of different things Like how comfy is that couch? Can you measure the level of comfort in that couch sir? No, because everyone has different ideas on what is comfort.
Dense black sky stars drip in from millions and millions of miles away. From here
Infatuated with ourselves We bath in crops of greed Sown through our hubris, Ignoring the whelps of need. A scourged culture, made To feast on each other obsessively
It is there, always has been and always will. That Incessant pounding, screams of hatred and bitterness all aimed directly at me. Ever since I was old enough to think the pounding was there.
It’s when autumn in its final throes surrenders and one morning you draw in a peculiar breath thick with frigid air that you realize the winter’s made its presence.
Money vs Survival
Money vs Survival Another worry versus another worry Seeking money to survive veruses just survivng Slaving away versus Living away Tears of hardship versus Tears of real life.
Dear Mr. American History: Your tie: red white and blue, representing the noose of oppression you pledge yourself to.
Another war in the name of peace The rehearsed lie that you speak Your deceptive words are at a peak If you try to steal Liberty, she will make a creak You are selected, not elected
You can't explain my God, as I can't know yours.We’ve all got a higher self, within us it resides, it hides.As above; so as below, an old axiom once said to comfort the soul, the mind, the body.
What was old is new again......
Shatter the crown Scatter the pieces In this world we live in, Strength is a weakness Preach, "Chase for your dreams!" But then curse ambition Being equal in failure
As we complain about things being unfair, there are families in the US without health care. You may not have gotten what you wanted for your birthday, there are people in Haiti trying to survive after an earthquake.
I step out of the plane Baggage on my right hand A bag of toys on the other. One foot touches the concrete. The hard surface onto the soft soles of my feet.
If today were the last day to live, would you call your enemies and forgive? or would you go to the shelter to give? something simple can express so much our hands together is a simple touch
Abnormal, poor, weird words I hear daily Growing up poor wasn’t a choice; wishing it was a choice Each day I struggle looking over my should, hearing them laugh, Avoiding the landlord, rents overdue.
these hands, subjacent to my heart, brush tears from eyes, push water through space, teach children to swim, feed hungry lost souls, faith, make art, heal wounds, and open doors... for you.
Life is like dominoes, each one has an effect, wherever the first one falls has an influence on the next.
If the heroes of old learned how we kept this place They would rise from the grave and they would spit in our faces The land and the sea is soaked with blood and their tears Maintaining our freedom for hundreds of years
Blood sucking parasites
Eyes locked in concentration Taking every scent and sound Merging with the ground Silent and deadly as the night Moving with swiftness and grace Anticipation of a wild chase Heart beating the jungle rhythm