By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Under a spreading chestnut-tree
The village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he,
With large…
The village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he,
With large…
Explore Poems: Social Commentaries
Showing 1-20 of 6,183 poems
- By Alice Notley"A car" "awash with blood" "Blood at our feet" "& I
& others" "have small springs" "of blood from our… - By Malcolm TariqIn church
we said Satan, get thee behind
and I always laughed. A demon child
with a twisted mouth, - By Malcolm TariqYou may find her behind
Rowan Oak, a shadow
of fortress where then now
you find no real entry place. - By Camille T. DungyAsk me if I speak for the snail and I will tell you
I speak for the snail.
speak of underneathedness
and the welcome of mosses,
of life that springs up,
little lives that pull back and wait for a moment. - By Cameron BarnettThis is how the story begins: a touch, a bump, a hot mouth,
jostled skin in an elevator, escalation, … - By Meredith Strickerin the DMZ ravines north of the Kaesong wastes edging
south of the perfect ruler’s pink and prisoned paradisethere is a climate paying no attention to us where cranes
repopulate serpentine deltas - By Meredith StrickerEvery morning opening the newspaper, I am faced
with the thin line that divides disaster and deprivation
from a world of luminous wealth. Tuesday, January 29th,
for instance, bodies, many of them children, lie on the ground
They drowned in the canal trying to escape a weapons depot fire
and explosion in Lagos. Their heads are twisted in straw and dust
near the feet of on-lookers whose cries we cannot hear - By Irina RatushinskayaI know it won't be received
Or sent. The page will be
In shreds as soon as I have scribbled it.
Later. … - By Ama CodjoeWhat if, Betye, instead of a rifle or hand
grenade—I mean, what if after
the loaded gun that takes two hands
to fire, I lay down the splintered broom
and the steel so cold it wets
my cheek? What if I unclench the valleys
of my... - By Sarah CarsonThe first gun we knew came in a toolbox for the apocalypse: hammer, barrel, crushed can, pack of Newports…
- By Sarah CarsonThe last man here wanted
what could not be taken: My girl, he'd say,
my baby. The narrow of his eyes… - By Chaelee DaltonConsider the market. Consider the gross domestic product of Korea. Call it Kimchi.
Ferment culture in… - By Emily DickinsonI'm Nobody! Who are you?
Are you - Nobody - too?
Then there's a pair of us!
Dont tell! they'd banish… - By J. Mae BarizoMorning in the city and the performance
that is Madison Avenue wearing diamond
studs for breakfast, my… - By Anastasia Taylor-Lindv.
Isn’t it dangerous to be a woman? Surrounded by men, questions
about risk-taking, parenting (I’m childless… - By Anastasia Taylor-LindIt’s 9/11 the first time you stay.
In the morning you bring Taliban poems back to bed.
I drink cardamom… - By M. NourbeSe Philipevidence is
sustenance
is
support
is
the law... - By Jay Jerbii know it like i know my name.
i know it like i know that i cried when reading Mary Oliver for the first…
