Politicalpoetry storie

A Poetry Dedicated to 21 days of Hunger Strike By Sonam Wangchuk in support of Students.

She opened her mouth, surprised, as words burst forth. Completed

यो कविता चराको आवाजमार्फत स्वतन्त्रता र मानव जीवनको तुलना प्रस्तुत गर्छ। चराले स्वतन्त्र उडान, लक्ष्य र प्राकृतिक जीवनको वर्णन गर्दै मानिसहरू बन्धनमा बाँधिएको देखाउँछ। अन्त्यमा, मानिसलाई पनि आफ्नै "पखेटा" खोजेर स्वतन्त्र बन्न प्रेरणा दिन्छ। The Bird and Freedom This poem presents a comparison between freedom and human life through the voice of a bird. The bird describes its free flight, its direction, its purpose, and its natural way of living. It moves without barriers, guided only by the sky and instinct. Through its voice, it also reflects on human beings, who are often bound by rules, responsibilities, and invisible chains. While the bird enjoys open skies, humans are shown living within limits-of society, expectations, and struggles that often restrict their freedom. In the end, the poem inspires human beings to find their own "wings"-to discover inner strength, break limitations, and move toward true freedom in life.

In a world split red and blue, some of us don't fit either color. Loader World follows a nonbinary, bisexual Latina teen navigating high school bullying, political division, immigration fear, and the weight of being "too visible." When leaders talk about removing identities and erasing letters, the consequences echo in classrooms and quiet bedrooms. This book is a slam poem in motion. A protest wrapped in vulnerability. A reminder that survival is resistance. If you've ever hidden your flag. If you've ever felt like your skin was a statement. This story is for you.

> "For the Sheep Clothing" is a raw, fearless poem by hybrid poet Jemar Ocon (Lonewolfbejie), exposing the dirty truth behind corrupted systems. Through a blend of street realism and metaphor, this poem attacks vote-buying, fake leadership, and those who wear the mask of goodness while feeding off the silence of the poor. This isn't just poetry - it's protest. It's philosophy for the streets. Real wolves don't hide in sheep clothing - they write about it.

A Poem

America was built on discrimination, hate, and hypocrisy, The very land we stand on is soaked in blood. It's been 250 years and we're owed an apology, Yet the violence still flows like a flash flood. They put our pain among archetypes, And paint over our scars. But I will always bleed stripes; Even if all I see is stars.

A collection of poems about the world politics because I need a way to cope and this way I feel like I am actually doing something about the situation. Be on the right side of History my friends❤️ Silence never stopped violence📢

A poem I wanted to share

"Donald Trump: An Undefined Legacy Amidst A Divided World" is a reflective political poem that explores the uncertainty, power, controversy, and influence surrounding one of the most debated figures of modern history. Through vivid imagery of storms, shadows, hope, pride, and judgement, the poem captures a world divided by opinion yet united in observation. Rather than delivering a final verdict, the poem leaves history itself to decide the meaning of Donald Trump's legacy. Written with emotional depth and symbolic language, this piece reflects on leadership, division, memory, and the echoes of history in a restless age.

Where oaths rot, prayers excuse cruelty, and lives are reduced to "necessary sacrifice."

the angry poems.

man my yume lore leave me alone

This is a collection of poetry I have written during the troubling times of 2020. Coming to the last week of 2020, I had tested positive for Coronavirus so this was written during self isolation reflecting on this chaotic year and the incompetent handling of this pandemic by the UK Government.

This piece is a chaotic sermon dressed in satire, stitched with absurdity, and delivered by a narrator who can't quite decide whether they're joking-or warning you. Figures of Speech was born from watching the distortion of language in real-time-how words meant to unite often divide, how truth bends until it breaks, and how the loudest voices often say the least. The poem is a venting valve. A fever dream with punchlines. It tackles everything from political hypocrisy and media theatrics to the decay of discourse itself. The "slips" in the poem-those ironic stumbles and word-swaps-aren't mistakes; they're masks peeling off. The more the narrator fumbles, the more they reveal. At its heart, this poem is about power: who holds it, who manipulates it, and who suffers beneath it. But it's also about complicity-ours. We laugh, we scroll, we nod, and then we play our roles again. The circus restarts. The machine keeps running. This is not a call to action. It's not even a protest. It's just a figure of speech. Unless, of course, it isn't.

Hello, I'm Chloe, with words in my veins, Dancing through sunshine, dreaming in rains. From pages and poems, my heart found its beat, From Seuss's sweet rhymes to the soul of John Keats. It started in childhood, bright books on my shelf, Where rhymes ran in circles and played with themselves. Green Eggs and Ham, a whimsical ride- Oh, how the Cat in the Hat made me glide! But soon I grew deeper, with ink-stained delight, Finding new meaning in verses at night. "Ode to a Nightingale" stirred something inside, A longing, a stillness, I couldn't quite hide. Poetry calls me-a whisper, a flame, It gives life to silence and meaning to name. I write not for glory, but simply to feel, To capture the moments that time tries to steal. So here I am, Chloe-heart open wide, With a pen in my hand and the stars as my guide. From playful beginnings to lyrical grace, I follow the lines, wherever they trace.

I was thinking about America the way it lives in my head. Not as a country on a map but as a feeling that used to feel lighter. I kept thinking about the flag and what it stood for before everything felt so loud and decided for us. This is about growing up and realizing power does not always mean care. It is about watching culture shift and feeling confused and sad and still wanting to believe in something anyway. I am not trying to explain politics. I am just trying to say what it feels like to love something that keeps changing in ways that hurt. This is me looking for the version of America that felt human and honest and still possible.