Power(A) Poems - Poems about Power(A)

ROCK HARD POLITICAL DEFECATION Making the nation great again, he defecates laws of injustice:- Stinky flowing unjust laws: Stooled igneous tyranny:- ...

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To me it’s clear as a day The power shouldn’t exist But it does seem the other way Me and the likes are missed The power people rule the game They’re livelier than ever And simple folks like me are blamed For nothing but whatever Is bound to be criminalized Just for the sake of guilt Though hardly it’s a big surprise This cruel world...

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Redemption untold Lies are never far from fallacy Secrets are never far from power If the soil is polluted The root can’t bring no good tree Their must be a truth untold In a dying world In a world full of wars In a world of turmoil In a land of needs and wants I...

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White privilege The ability to exist Without fear The ability to walk down the streets And not jump at every siren To not calculate every move And overthink every word Because in out world Our existence gets us killed And in your world a red carpet is rolled at your feet Your privilege ignites your ignorance And in a world where all...

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Everything this person say, think and do revolves around money. There was a saying that “Money is the root of all evil.” I beg to differ. Money is not the root, the love of money is. The need and greed to be that obsessed displays someone who is possessed. The need to control it all, to want...

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They wear no crown, yet kings they reign, Invisible hands in shadowed domain. Their thrones are silence, veiled from sight— Yet nations move by whispered might. You vote, you cheer, you wave your flag, But strings are pulled beneath that rag. The leaders bow, the crowds applaud— But who commands? Not whom you laud. Money—their gospel, gold—their law, They script your fate with subtle...

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I am a circus freak— collar popped, polka dots. You throw apples and boo; I hate all of you too. I’m not bothered, though. One day, I’ll start a revolution and set fire to this whole place. You see me as a freak; I see myself as one of you elites— three-piece suit, walking cane. I’m going to dismantle the aristocracy internally. Join the cause or die. ...

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Without my scars I wouldn't be who I am today I'm branded to live a prodigy I look strong I was built by fragile moments... Without my bruises I wouldn't have known What healing feels like I had to break to mend I earned my knowledge Through a remake Of my broken pieces. I was purified through storms... Call me a...

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Power equals currency In a world that actively yearns for it The more you have the more you are worshiped And with worship becomes freedom Where inequality is something they abuse And power is the excuse they use as a campaign To bully the people that they blame To start an agenda of hate for the only personal gain The same...

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I have known the hollow silence of empty hands, once full of gold, now dust and fading strands. I gave my heart in seasons bright and fair, helping those in need, with love laid bare. But when the coins ran out, the doors grew cold, no pennies left to buy a dream or hold. Help came shackled, wrapped in debt’s tight...

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Don’t tell me change is impossible. I’ve done the math. 3,000 people. $10 a week. That’s $30,000 every week. Invest it wisely, even at 3.25%. That amounts to $1.6 million per year. Enough to start a small business annually. Enough to buy homes outright. Enough to give dignity without debt. And if thousands of groups did this? Poverty wouldn’t need handouts. Governments wouldn’t bleed through welfare. Education, health,...

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Fragility is quite a strength just as the crucial bumblebees’ breath Perhaps not only titularly gentleness is stronger than severity . . . Channeling Emily Dickinson : To be a feather in a holocaust – hope, sewn in the soul, sings the song needed most A minor thought on regeneration : To regrow the leg the mantis lost – a marvel on...

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I. THE WANDERING I was born with a life that bled— a seafloor womb dragging tides of fern and marigold char The priests brought saffron and fear crowning me with diagnosis They said: She is too empty They said: Fill her with figs with seed with stillness They said: Her belly speaks too loud Mute her O Plato old patriarch of phantoms my body was no beast— just prophecy you never learned...

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When heart breaks and bleeds under the sharp knife, Cut and crushed feelings blame the storm of life. When mind forgets the joy of the daybreak, forlorn eyes spend the night in tears and ache. But firm faith fights the hardest blows of pain, to triumph over the arrows of rain....

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I wore no uniform— just silence and suits. A ghost in global rooms, a whisper behind the curtain. I was a civilian, but my job was war. They called it "analysis," but what I did was study souls. The psychology of power— Presidents, rebels, kings. We knew their childhoods, their fears, their fault lines. I was trained to see through smiles. To know, from a handshake, what could break a man. Africa. We...

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