They crowd around their leader
unqualified, unfit
Vying for some action
all chomping at the bit
They’ve given-up democracy
their morals are all gone
Instead they honor Donald Trump
a two-bit, traitor con
They don’t want an America
with those who aren’t White
They’d rather burn it to the ground
and threaten that they might
They’re homophobic bigots
and condemn those who are trans
Scared of life, scared of love
they punish them with bans
Like preachers, they quote scripture
hang crosses from their chains
But then deport small children
far away, alone, on planes
The MAGA base is poisoned
hating all that’s not the same
Then praise an unfit moron
who’s a fool and has no shame
We won’t give-up our freedom
our vote, or right to talk
Together, we will march as one
resist, and walk the walk
This "March of Madness" men make,
Mostly meant to Minimize Momentum,
Must mean our "Maker" made...
"Molecular Miscalculations!".....(DNA + OCD) = SOS
Do not Fear, will not fade away at these dawns waving crimson flag
Before burns out last owen that fumes above my homeland
It is my nation's star that will shine forever
Its mine, its my nation's however
Do not wrinkle up your visage dear coy crescent, I'll be sacrificed
To my hero race smile once, what is this severity this wrath
Then will not be just for you our bloods that poured out
Deserves independence my nation who is worshipper of God
Written by Mehmet Akif Ersoy
Translation Honor Su
The rush of emotion stilled
The air once consumed by an undiluted energy
Now eerily quiet
Something lingers in the air
Justice?
No something louder but hidden
A violence so silent
It could go unnoticed by those who don't care to see
Those who choose wilful ignorance
The streets once crowded by protest
Now sits empty
Brought down from the high of purpose
Now left with an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness
The stench of death plagues the streets
Where once voice and life used to meet
Now only emptiness you will greet
Only thing left is failed legacies and echoes of long gone feet
The people who assumed these spaces
Just like the streets now empty
The promises of a better future
Dead like the movement
Despite having enough strength in their bodies to go on
Mourning takes their time of what's lost
Hoping to gain the strength to march again
But as the world continues to hate instead of help
Slowly losing their joy, the best parts of themselves
They are tired though not from the burning screams for justice
Nor the tiring marches
But through a slow realisation that the world they live in may never change
March Comes In Like A Lion
Dandelion dance
in the palm of my
hand; a gentle
bloom.
I love
my birthday
flower.
I have a heart too warm
for a body of snow.
My torso went out first—
The buttons before my chest
dropped into the soil.
One by one, they stripped me tenderly.
—I feel exposed.
My limbs were the next to leave—
Technically I only had
arms that once traced words in frost.
The damp branches—they landed right beside me.
I couldn’t reach them, of course.
Finally, my face.
I recalled dreaming of pale winter sun
—my lighthouse amidst a blizzard.
My eyes flowed down—what once were my cheeks.
My smile thawed into a grieved last breath.
A pile of cold water by the pavement…
I think I left my heart of March there.
In this country
Politicians line their pockets from back-door deals
Sports figures kneel with raised fist, and protest our flag
Hollywood celebrities exclaim they will leave our country
Silicon Valley tramples on free-speech norms
Corporate elites rig systems to transfer wealth
and live more royally than kings of yore, while
Children hunger
for food
for love
for protection from abuse
Where are the marchers,
the protesters with cardboard placards
funded by big money,
Declaring that these,
the youngest of us
have a right to a life?
That simply being born
is not enough?
Where are those God-fearing pickets?
As a young child of five,
I found myself in dance school.
It was a fun place to make new friends,
as we learned about dancing.
After a year of training,
we were ready for our big dance recital.
The exciting night finally came,
we were dressed in hot pink outfits.
Now it was our turn with music playing,
we marched out onto the huge stage.
Bright lights were on us,
as well as every eyeball from the many seats.
The lead girl froze in place like a statue,
so please "Hold The Applause."
I stepped in front of her,
and kept on dancing.
The other girls followed me,
as we danced across the huge stage.
We finished our dance recital,
now we will take your applause.
A man was marching through his mind.
An empty cell to fullfill his time.
Long before he traveled lands.
He blistered truth with burned up hands.
Many miles and waters sailed.
Out for nothing and still he failed.
A man was marching into space.
An endless look expressed his face.
This forced impression along the ride.
Consumed illusions to take his pride.
The need for more to take the fall.
Below the belt and made to crawl.
A man was marching into lead.
He used his guilt to count his greed.
A path was chosen and yet not made.
Where he's going the lights will fade.
A man was marching into fate.
Love will fualter and cease to hate.
This man that marched and never left.
Stood his post to wait for death.
A man was marching through his mind.
An empty cell to fullfill his time.
Long before he traveled lands.
He blistered truth with burned up hands.
Many miles and waters sailed.
Out for nothing and still he failed.
A man was marching into space.
An endless look expressed his face.
This forced impression along the ride.
Consumed illusions to take his pride.
The need for more to take the fall.
Below the belt and made to crawl.
A man was marching into lead.
He used his guilt to count his greed.
A path was chosen and yet not made.
Where he's going the lights will fade.
A man was marching into fate.
Love will fualter and cease to hate.
This man that marched and never left.
Stood his post to wait for death.
Elusive, quick, a wisp of spectral smoke,
you, as a twinge that flickers in the eye,
haunt the corners of sight; you mystify
perception—such the awe you so evoke.
Arcane, abstruse, veiled in a phantom cloak,
you, as a fleeting shadow passing by,
confuse the intellect; you do defy
detection—all instincts you ill provoke.
In those moments, when(briefly)you appear
as a fast flash,—only to flitter from
reality,—a momentary zap
in a surging current,(you’re hard to hear,)—
yea in those moments, left behind, struck dumb,
I wonder mutely,—“have I made you up?”
How do you stitch a shattered soul mirrored in cracked reflections?
Friends arrive too late, armed with needles,
once the bleeding has stilled,
sewing memories into a cloth of loss—
stitched of sorrow, wearing grief's heavy gold,
as if it were a crown above the stillness of the dead—
enthroned in hollow solitude.
Thoughts twist like barbed wire,
fences no soul dares to breach;
pull too hard, and silence unravels,
screaming into the void,
a cacophony of isolation dances in shadows.
Death tugs at these frayed seams,
slowly unspooling me—
thread by thread, each strand a whisper
of what once was, every knot a reminder
of the horror nestled within.
tweet tweet cheep cheep cheep
birdspeak lights up the meadow
marchs melody
Dark Sunday nights
The month of November
Nothing I care to remember
Specific Types of March Poems
Definition | What is March in Poetry?
Poems Related to March
pound, patrol, parade, move, file, traipse, proceed, space, boot, tramp, progress, stomp, strut, promenade, step, journey, tread, advance, mount, pace, stride, range, stalk, drill, go on, pound the pavement, debouch, forge ahead, hoof it, move out, step out,