Here is a list of Political / Social Poems ordered by Last Commented, posted by members. Read poetry, post your own poems or comments. Poems on these pages are copyrighted © by the authors who entered them. Click here to post a poem.
~~ TALK ~ NICELY ~~
Some to speak and other of silence
Putting words together is a way of,
speaking and must it be nicely only
if you want to be heard.
Having a story or maybe a blog just a
piece of information just talk nicely
so you can be heard from a far.
Some afraid others ashamed it is a part
of us speaking to others oh so nice
when words are not so harsh.
When hard words get tossed away, all
communication is gone to silence the
room we know there is no nice talking.
©breathless22
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Putting words together is a way of,
speaking and must it be nicely only
if you want to be heard.
Having a story or maybe a blog just a
piece of information just talk nicely
so you can be heard from a far.
Some afraid others ashamed it is a part
of us speaking to others oh so nice
when words are not so harsh.
When hard words get tossed away, all
communication is gone to silence the
room we know there is no nice talking.
©breathless22
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
If it is not nice and most likely should not speek, then put your words into the back of your head and trying saying something nice. We always want to say something nice and try not to offen a soul.
Company of the dead...
Overlooking a beautiful bay in Auckland, New Zealand, is a quaint old cemetery...
I spent six weeks regenerating there a few years ago,
I was burnt-out, my batteries were on very-low,
I needed some other-worldly energy to recharge,
What better way to accomplish that than in the stolid company of the local sleepers...
I encountered some fascinating denizens there,
Kindred spirits, they were,
Frequenting the same oasis I was...,
One afternoon, for instance,
I was awakened from my reverie by the sweet smell of ‘maryjane’,
The soul on the bench a few feet away from me,
Was puffing-up a storm..., seeking a different kind of high...
Another blond banshee, enjoyed bringing a different paramour to the venue every so often,
If ‘ya gotta do it’ with someone new every now and then,
What better cover than a grave or two...
Then there was the old dear, who, by the pallid colour of her skin, was not too far from being a spectre herself,
Who brought her faithful companion every afternoon,
A fluffy little Pekingese, with whom she chatted endlessly...
Then there was the teary Asian lady,
Visiting a little child, I discovered from the inscription,
Unkindly and untimely snatched from life,
With many more years to go,
Before the final clarion call...,
Always bringing flowers, a little toy, incense...,
An offering and a console to the young departed angel...
Amongst these absorbing essences,
Was I,
An anachronism of sorts,
A bird with broken wings,
Far from his native Africa,
Quiet, silent, observing the observer,
Mending, repairing my psyche...
Sigh..., that was New Zealand for me...,
Recuperative...
I spent six weeks regenerating there a few years ago,
I was burnt-out, my batteries were on very-low,
I needed some other-worldly energy to recharge,
What better way to accomplish that than in the stolid company of the local sleepers...
I encountered some fascinating denizens there,
Kindred spirits, they were,
Frequenting the same oasis I was...,
One afternoon, for instance,
I was awakened from my reverie by the sweet smell of ‘maryjane’,
The soul on the bench a few feet away from me,
Was puffing-up a storm..., seeking a different kind of high...
Another blond banshee, enjoyed bringing a different paramour to the venue every so often,
If ‘ya gotta do it’ with someone new every now and then,
What better cover than a grave or two...
Then there was the old dear, who, by the pallid colour of her skin, was not too far from being a spectre herself,
Who brought her faithful companion every afternoon,
A fluffy little Pekingese, with whom she chatted endlessly...
Then there was the teary Asian lady,
Visiting a little child, I discovered from the inscription,
Unkindly and untimely snatched from life,
With many more years to go,
Before the final clarion call...,
Always bringing flowers, a little toy, incense...,
An offering and a console to the young departed angel...
Amongst these absorbing essences,
Was I,
An anachronism of sorts,
A bird with broken wings,
Far from his native Africa,
Quiet, silent, observing the observer,
Mending, repairing my psyche...
Sigh..., that was New Zealand for me...,
Recuperative...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
i see some poets are resurrecting some of their older posts, i think its a great idea, so, i thought i'd repost some of my favourites too...
The Injustice of Famine
The earth baked into a hot hard crust
Where refugees cannot escape the lust
No water no food just political disgust
Oh lack of rain earth large cracks deepest
And thristy leaves curl stunted fruit barest
Little relief fade as clouds are fewest
Passing still no drops of rain sparist
Awaiting anxious harvest in toil frankest
Baking down make powder fly from dung disgust
Children squatting with gasping breath frailest
From journey brought on bonely legs weakest
Across wicked wasted plains of drought gravest
Breaking hearts and destroying dreams proudest
Oh give a heart and help the earth's poorest!!
Where refugees cannot escape the lust
No water no food just political disgust
Oh lack of rain earth large cracks deepest
And thristy leaves curl stunted fruit barest
Little relief fade as clouds are fewest
Passing still no drops of rain sparist
Awaiting anxious harvest in toil frankest
Baking down make powder fly from dung disgust
Children squatting with gasping breath frailest
From journey brought on bonely legs weakest
Across wicked wasted plains of drought gravest
Breaking hearts and destroying dreams proudest
Oh give a heart and help the earth's poorest!!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
This is sad what is happening in Somalia....what can anyone one of us do as individuals...screw the whole international community and all our screwed up governments and religions....innocent people are dying...it's tragic and so very preventable!!
It
It
Sit
Lit
Knit
Git
Sit
Lit
Knit
Git
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
A treatise on the human condition.Manure, etc.,
I am often plagued by a very existential question:
Am I doing what I should be doing, or have I been led astray from my destiny?
Don’t laugh, things like that bother some of us…,
Am I living in the right place,
Am I in the right profession?
Am I with the right person?
Am I?
Etc., etc. …
A couple of years ago, I came across a gem of a philosophy that helps me a lot with this quandary:-
Whatever presents itself in front of you right now,
This is your destiny now,
Do that now…
Wow!
At first this concept blew my socks off,
Why? Say for example, I happened to be shoveling manure at the precise moment in life, when I came across the concept, does that mean shoveling manure should hereby be my destiny?[now, some people no doubt would enthusiastically say yes, but, that’s another matter…],
But then, as I ‘delved’ deeper into it[steady now…],
Which is allowed, since ‘it’ was ‘in front’ of me, hopefully, as opposed to ‘behind’ me, it began to make more ‘sense’…
In brief and in an attempt to clarify the philosophy, one would answer ‘yes’, be the best ‘manure-shoveler’ you can be…,
Some of the many obvious benefits[if the laughter genie grabs you and you wanna add some more ‘benefits’ in the comments section, feel free to do so, har, har…] to such a destiny is that:-
You’ll have a show-piece of a garden,
Annoying people would avoid you,
People would make way for you at the supermarket lines, especially if you’re not the ‘frequent-bather’ type,
Your friends would be few, but they would be ‘real’ friends, the kind that would suck the venom out of you if you were bitten by a viper in your ‘gluteus maximus’[‘cmon look this up, you’ll be glad you did…],
You would save oodles of money in clothing, no expensive Pierre Cardins for you,
If you keep a low profile, you can probably get by without the FDA’s SWAT team descending upon you for ‘practicing’ organic farming without a license,
And, lastly, but definitely not leastly,
Its an easy and legitimate escape from a nagging wife…
So, heck, don’t knock it, as you can clearly see, the benefits, are endless…,
There is indeed a bright future in shoveling manure, and it’s a noble destiny[from the point of view that people will thank God and you, that they don’t have to do it…],
I wish you happy shoveling…
In awareness…
Am I doing what I should be doing, or have I been led astray from my destiny?
Don’t laugh, things like that bother some of us…,
Am I living in the right place,
Am I in the right profession?
Am I with the right person?
Am I?
Etc., etc. …
A couple of years ago, I came across a gem of a philosophy that helps me a lot with this quandary:-
Whatever presents itself in front of you right now,
This is your destiny now,
Do that now…
Wow!
At first this concept blew my socks off,
Why? Say for example, I happened to be shoveling manure at the precise moment in life, when I came across the concept, does that mean shoveling manure should hereby be my destiny?[now, some people no doubt would enthusiastically say yes, but, that’s another matter…],
But then, as I ‘delved’ deeper into it[steady now…],
Which is allowed, since ‘it’ was ‘in front’ of me, hopefully, as opposed to ‘behind’ me, it began to make more ‘sense’…
In brief and in an attempt to clarify the philosophy, one would answer ‘yes’, be the best ‘manure-shoveler’ you can be…,
Some of the many obvious benefits[if the laughter genie grabs you and you wanna add some more ‘benefits’ in the comments section, feel free to do so, har, har…] to such a destiny is that:-
You’ll have a show-piece of a garden,
Annoying people would avoid you,
People would make way for you at the supermarket lines, especially if you’re not the ‘frequent-bather’ type,
Your friends would be few, but they would be ‘real’ friends, the kind that would suck the venom out of you if you were bitten by a viper in your ‘gluteus maximus’[‘cmon look this up, you’ll be glad you did…],
You would save oodles of money in clothing, no expensive Pierre Cardins for you,
If you keep a low profile, you can probably get by without the FDA’s SWAT team descending upon you for ‘practicing’ organic farming without a license,
And, lastly, but definitely not leastly,
Its an easy and legitimate escape from a nagging wife…
So, heck, don’t knock it, as you can clearly see, the benefits, are endless…,
There is indeed a bright future in shoveling manure, and it’s a noble destiny[from the point of view that people will thank God and you, that they don’t have to do it…],
I wish you happy shoveling…
In awareness…
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
Post Comment
A M A T T E R O F G R A V I T Y
A MATTER OF GRAVITY
where art thou when I need thee most
ah yes, thou has become a ghost
a wishing well empty, a pond depleted
as I stand as stagnant, a man defeated
i have been overcome by demons inside
and when they request "why hast he died"
say unto them he was a man with thirst un-quenched
and tell them i died with my teeth well clenched
"clenched" question they, "but why" they wonder
"because," responds you "of the certain thunder"
"hear not thee the sound that killed him well?"
"Oh yes, now we hear why he was condemned unto Hell"
"so" sayeth thee, tell them without any doubt
there will be, due to his death, become a drought
a dryness no man nor god can create
"because," inform them, "my man was slain solely by hate"
" 'twas hatred which condemned him unto the fire,
and to all I swear, my man was no liar
he told the truth before the Temple of Love
until a thousand demonic angels appeared from above"
so let them hear the words of a man sworn unto death
and vow to them all that with each blessed breath
easiness, that evening, arrived my sweet
because 'twas with eagerness my death did I meet
thusly do I swear when you gaze around
and find not by body, to which Hell was bound
remember my face and this most memorable date
for that 'twas the eve your man died of SELF-hate
(c) 2011.....PHREEPOETREE...~free cee!~
where art thou when I need thee most
ah yes, thou has become a ghost
a wishing well empty, a pond depleted
as I stand as stagnant, a man defeated
i have been overcome by demons inside
and when they request "why hast he died"
say unto them he was a man with thirst un-quenched
and tell them i died with my teeth well clenched
"clenched" question they, "but why" they wonder
"because," responds you "of the certain thunder"
"hear not thee the sound that killed him well?"
"Oh yes, now we hear why he was condemned unto Hell"
"so" sayeth thee, tell them without any doubt
there will be, due to his death, become a drought
a dryness no man nor god can create
"because," inform them, "my man was slain solely by hate"
" 'twas hatred which condemned him unto the fire,
and to all I swear, my man was no liar
he told the truth before the Temple of Love
until a thousand demonic angels appeared from above"
so let them hear the words of a man sworn unto death
and vow to them all that with each blessed breath
easiness, that evening, arrived my sweet
because 'twas with eagerness my death did I meet
thusly do I swear when you gaze around
and find not by body, to which Hell was bound
remember my face and this most memorable date
for that 'twas the eve your man died of SELF-hate
(c) 2011.....PHREEPOETREE...~free cee!~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
i guess the dude didn't dig himselfWhats going on!
Mystry of existence
and our reality of vanishing!
Remaining time in the middle
we name it ,as a life!
Do we live this life?
or we made to live?
Do we have a freedom?
or we are following those sheep?
who are we in reality?
humans or a hurds?
why are we ruled by,
bunch of nerds?
where is our natural life?
without a plastic!
why are we eting packaged food?
and going bilistic?
where is our wisdom
and our higher soul?
why have we become nothing!
dead and charcoal?
Awake oh human!!
and serch for the truth!
There is no salvation
without your own search!
world is polluted
yet no one care,
there is so much grif
yet no one to share!
If we all arise
and learnt to see fact,
Consiousness will go high again,
can we make this a pact?
and our reality of vanishing!
Remaining time in the middle
we name it ,as a life!
Do we live this life?
or we made to live?
Do we have a freedom?
or we are following those sheep?
who are we in reality?
humans or a hurds?
why are we ruled by,
bunch of nerds?
where is our natural life?
without a plastic!
why are we eting packaged food?
and going bilistic?
where is our wisdom
and our higher soul?
why have we become nothing!
dead and charcoal?
Awake oh human!!
and serch for the truth!
There is no salvation
without your own search!
world is polluted
yet no one care,
there is so much grif
yet no one to share!
If we all arise
and learnt to see fact,
Consiousness will go high again,
can we make this a pact?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
Daily news! sad and sorrows around! my mind spoke with such a sound!
HEROES
AS THE SMOKE CLEARS WE STAND ALONE
BARELY 40 FROM 400 OF US REMAIN
WE HAVE WON THE DAY
VICTORY IS OURS
YET WHAT GLORY THIS?
THAT LEAVES OUR BROTHERS DEAD AND DYING UPON THESE FIELDS
WHAT HOLLOW PRIZE
THAT WE ARE HAILED HEROES OF OUR LAND
WHILE OUR FALLEN ARE LOST FOREVER
AND NOW YOU SLEEP SAFE IN YOUR BEDS
AS HEROES GUARD THIS LAND
HEROES WHO AT NIGHT RELIVE THE YEARS OF BATTLE
THE UNTOLD HORRORS WE HAVE ENDURED
CARNAGE THAT TOOK OUR BROTHERS
AND SONS
AND COMRADES IN ARMS
THE WAR IS OVER
YET NO PEACE
NO GLORY
NO HAND OF LOVE
CAN BRING REST TO OUR SLUMBER
FORE WE FIGHT TO MORPHEUSES DRUM EACH NIGHT
AND IN THE WAKING HOURS WE STRIVE TO FORGET OUR DREAMS
HEROES?
AYE!
BUT AT WHAT COST.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
WRITTEN FOR MY GREAT GRANDFATHER WHO FOUGHT IN 'THE GREAT WAR' AS HE ALWAYS CALLED IT. WHO ON MANY NIGHTS COULD BE FOUND STANDING FACING THE WALL NEXT TO HIS BED,
WAITING WITH HIS BROTHERS TO GO OVER THE TOP.
GOOD NIGHT HERO!
BARELY 40 FROM 400 OF US REMAIN
WE HAVE WON THE DAY
VICTORY IS OURS
YET WHAT GLORY THIS?
THAT LEAVES OUR BROTHERS DEAD AND DYING UPON THESE FIELDS
WHAT HOLLOW PRIZE
THAT WE ARE HAILED HEROES OF OUR LAND
WHILE OUR FALLEN ARE LOST FOREVER
AND NOW YOU SLEEP SAFE IN YOUR BEDS
AS HEROES GUARD THIS LAND
HEROES WHO AT NIGHT RELIVE THE YEARS OF BATTLE
THE UNTOLD HORRORS WE HAVE ENDURED
CARNAGE THAT TOOK OUR BROTHERS
AND SONS
AND COMRADES IN ARMS
THE WAR IS OVER
YET NO PEACE
NO GLORY
NO HAND OF LOVE
CAN BRING REST TO OUR SLUMBER
FORE WE FIGHT TO MORPHEUSES DRUM EACH NIGHT
AND IN THE WAKING HOURS WE STRIVE TO FORGET OUR DREAMS
HEROES?
AYE!
BUT AT WHAT COST.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
WRITTEN FOR MY GREAT GRANDFATHER WHO FOUGHT IN 'THE GREAT WAR' AS HE ALWAYS CALLED IT. WHO ON MANY NIGHTS COULD BE FOUND STANDING FACING THE WALL NEXT TO HIS BED,
WAITING WITH HIS BROTHERS TO GO OVER THE TOP.
GOOD NIGHT HERO!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2011
Post Comment
like
like
there's nothing like an ethnic division
a wall of scorn, distain and derision
to cement our opinion of another’s birth
and chastise their reason, being and worth
what right do they have to be in my mind
creating my discontent, and all of mankind
where does this distain for them originate
that forces me and my brothers to hate
it is plain to many, as any man can see
that their being here, will be the end of me
i cannot accept, and i will not choose
to see them as mankind, and alter my views
i am certain, as the sun spins on this day
for me to be free, their life i must slay
so with hate and malice, for all of them
i work to pass judgment, and freely condemn
their kin to die, with my weapon i strike
i have no love for them, or even a like
© agoodguy2have 2010-03-03
there's nothing like an ethnic division
a wall of scorn, distain and derision
to cement our opinion of another’s birth
and chastise their reason, being and worth
what right do they have to be in my mind
creating my discontent, and all of mankind
where does this distain for them originate
that forces me and my brothers to hate
it is plain to many, as any man can see
that their being here, will be the end of me
i cannot accept, and i will not choose
to see them as mankind, and alter my views
i am certain, as the sun spins on this day
for me to be free, their life i must slay
so with hate and malice, for all of them
i work to pass judgment, and freely condemn
their kin to die, with my weapon i strike
i have no love for them, or even a like
© agoodguy2have 2010-03-03
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2010
About this poem:
ok, you know it's sarcasm right?
To Satisfy Mankind's Greed
She shakes and shudders as you plunge deeper
Uncaring, unhearing you ceaselessly carry on
You rape and pillage without thought or care
Oh earth what you must suffer
To satisfy mankind's greed
Uncaring, unhearing you ceaselessly carry on
You rape and pillage without thought or care
Oh earth what you must suffer
To satisfy mankind's greed
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
What are we doing to our earth and what are we leaving behind for our childrenPoems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
This is a list of poems submitted by CS members. Click 'Details' tab to see all poems, or click on a poem title to view and comment on individual poems. Click headings to sort by comments or views.
Would YOU like to post a poem in the Poet's Corner? Have you written poetry that you'd like to share with other members? Posting your poetry shows your skill and creativity and helps members get to know you better. Your poem will appear on the Connecting Singles Poetry page and also in a link on your profile page.
Click here to publish your poetry »