Most Viewed Political / Social Poems (810)

Just a good ol boys
Never meaning no harm
Beats all you ever saw
Been off the TV ever since
They went after that flag on their car
Bill Cosby met the same fate
When he drugged a bunch of women
He was trying to date
Then there's Pepe Le Pew
Making fun of the French
Seem all they want is a fanny to pinch
Speedy Gonzalas
You gotta go too
Moking Mexicans makes the censors hate you
Just some good ol shows
Never meaning no harm
Beats all you ever saw
Been in trouble with the law
Since the day political correctness was born

Bombs go off, the bodies mount
Terrorists they rise
In Allah's name we will fight
A cry reverberates

One is east and one is west
So different must they be
One serve Allah, the other Jehovah
Never the twain shall meet

Both have wives and child at knee
Hopes and dreams, a future to see
Work so hard to provide
A better life for the family

So much alike, so little different
Hate and war who is teaching
Hands reach out, grasp another
Work on peace, love each other

In the back of the class the boy sat
Trying to be as quiet as quiet can be
Too many times he’d been beaten up
For no reason that he could see

At lunch time he’d slink away
A safe refuge trying to find
Once again he’d be out of luck
The bullies would find him there

Such great sport to beat him up
While others watch and cheer
Even the teachers take their time
To stop what should not have started

Another day, more bruises added
Homeward shamefully slinking
One day, he swore, he’d stop it all
Or die in the attempt of trying

Through the corridors with gun in had
The body count is rising
Dead and dying scattered around
The wounded praying and crying

On he seeks, to exact revenge
No-one safe from vengeance
How sad it is that it came to this
Could have been easily prevented

Our house is made of old wood Grandpa
foundAround the woods.
They were as dead then as he is now.
A white basin with a red ring around it,
Sets by my bed and catches the rain.
A lot of times the rain misses the basin
And drips on my bed.
My bed feels damp most of the time.
My little aster gets sick a lot
So she gets to sleep at
The bottom of the bed tat stays dry more often.
I hear people talking outside by the food trucks
About how pretty the woods are after a rain.
But they never slept in my bed.
I wish I could like the rain.
Maybe some day when my bed stays dry.

swirling automn leaves,
on the path,a girl,
long vineyard..

winter,homefires,
full blooming body,
sculptural design..

bitter mild life,
naked streets,
schedule adrift..

waves of blazing mouths,
garden level,
tea pot anthology..

breeze,breathe,
openly negligee desire,
fragrant..

They are here
They are there
Race is this place and that place
A face is a face
There is a lot of pain with this race
If we could just love everyone no matter what
Forget about Black History Month
And why is it called history?
What about her story?
It's seem to always be dominated by his story
War and greed
For the most part are male industries
So is this whole race debate just another tool to divide people
So the rich can just gooble up even more than they deserve
Let's just forget about race
And try to make this place
Wherever it is
A place worth living in

So many things
can be good when their bad
You have to be happy
when you know you are sad

I like to watch
the very best
whether its watching a fight
or a bird in its nest

There is so much bad
In so much that's good
Its in every man
and in every hood

Sometimes its hard
to see what's good in what's bad
and you have to look hard
to see what you had

If life teaches us lessons
and makes us wise on the way
we know we can learn
from god and bad every day

If you ever get close to a human
Prepare to be confused
If there is no man
Enchanting, no insanity
Peaceful, no war
Life, no greed
Human

I'm afraid to leave my apartment
Those monsters are out there
Waiting to hurt me
Hurt my feelings mostly
Steal my money
Steal my peace
I see the drone flying over the hills
It steals my peace of a beautiful scene
God created this land
He made it beautiful
He made it pure
He made it peaceful
These monsters lurk at work
They lurk at my parents home
Sometimes they hide for awhile
Most of the time they don't
The ones with the badges and the lights on top of their cars
They are the worst
They were supposed to keep me safe
Provide me some comfort
Instead they are paid to bully good people
People talk about zombies
Why do we need to fantasize about them?
When we have so so many real monsters out there
Just waiting with evil grins
Waiting for their next victim

“…the Hue-man Family (“Hue” as in Melanin Hue Pigmentation in the skin…”

from Chapter One of Na’im Akbar’s Book “Know Thy Self”



I consider the ‘deity’ up on ‘high’, and I think of how it is clad in goodness,
I find myself wishing I had inherent goodness, I find myself hoping that most of humanity lived much more in goodness,
Alas, though, whenever I turn on the TV, I observe the antithesis,
And delicately, I weep inside…


TV, I catch myself thinking???
What was I thinking?
How could I again have fallen for the propaganda and brainwashing of the one-eyed monster?
Sighing, I pull myself into the now,
I start focusing on the paranoid, delusional and criminally insane ego we all carry within us,
A bitter heritage of being ‘human’, or shall we call a spade a spade and rephrase that to read ‘hue-man’, denoting an individual of ‘color’/slave?
Interesting that the status-quo have given all of us the name… ‘hue-man’…, ergo, they obviously consider all of us, irrespective of ‘color’ to be chattel…, or shall we say ‘cattle’?

From birth we’re taught that we’re inherently evil,
And that in order to appease the gods, we must throw the proverbial ‘six virgins’ off a cliff every now and then, or there’ll be hell to pay,
But, my observations show that there’s hell to pay all the time anyway, so why kill the poor virgins???

So, I start digging, again,
Oh, yeah, I’ve dug many, many times before, in fact, I’m always digging,
To remind myself of the inherent goodness within 99% of us,
It’s there, unmistakably,
And, after not too much digging, suddenly, there it is,
In all its unassuming splendor,
goodness within all of us,
Manifested in many, many ways by all 7 billion men, women and children,
mistakenly called ‘hue-man’…,
Manifested by a mother’s arms as she tenderly and soothingly picks up a crying baby,
Manifested by a father rising up before dawn, carrying his weary bones to work to feed his family,
Manifested by a man and woman holding hands meaningfully, as they rededicate themselves to each other anew,
Etc., etc., etc. …