Rage Poems - Poems about Rage

The rage of a tired black woman

Rage.
Fury.
A constant burning anger.
A rage stemmed from generations of those who have come before me
An inheritance we have the right to own 
Something passed through each black child born
One that clings to our skin and bones
A communal experience we share alone

Every time a black child comes home from school
Fallen tears from racial slurs
Another wave of

A Year Has Past

Nothing beats the summer breeze 
The memories of the ones who leave 
Lotus flowers smile at me
Saying this will pass, you’ll come to see 
Walking in a forest with my shoes in my bag 
Wishing I were leaving the town that I have 
The year is almost over, and I’m still lying on the grass
The

Woman Is a Hole

Woman is a hole,
Soft with spongey walls,
Press the button, make her howl,
Crash through her virgin halls. 

A newborn baby, little girl,
Fresh kitchen rag to store,
Waiting ignorant of the day,
When she too will be soiled.

Decades later, kitchen rags,
Sit discarded in a bin,
A loony bin for hags to talk, 
And squeeze out salty drips. 

Streaming semen pulling

Born to Rage

I woke with blood in my mouth
and no memory
of the scab that sealed the rasure.

I’m cat-spitting
dog-growling
peregrine-divebombing
rooster-flogging
badger-flipping
hornet-stinging
wolverine-ripping mad.

I fired the sun for showing up late
cursed the fridge light until
yogurt soured in terror.

God called
I let it ring twice.

The therapist said breathe
so I swallowed my tongue
now I speak
in the language of things with canines.

coyote-howl syntax
vulture-vowel decay
the guttural grammar
of

Rage

The seething waters took them.
I rage,
rage against the deluge,
an unmoored,
unrestrained rage.

I rage for the innocents,
a rage that drowns all else
except more broiling,
more roiling waves of rage,
an anger that unstrings
the harps of angels.

Rage I now, at the blind horror
of godforsaken moments
that snatch all away
as suddenly as a surging,
untethered,
Texas tsunami.

I rage against
the ever-deceitful aspirations
of peace and calm,
rage

Bars of rage

Bars of rage by Adejola Joseph 
Bars of rage 
Angry 
Very angry 
What does anger bring?
City of destruction 
Temple of anxiety 
Anger is a boiling water 
An H2SO4 acidic 
Bars of rage 
Anger.

Rage, Against the Light!

The howling lightning tore the sky.
I screamed, I'm free. I won’t comply.
I'm blasting away with wild angry sound,
Fighting back in this battleground.

Rage, Rage, against the light!
Against the coming of the night!
Rage, for what's damn right!  
With fists up! For the fight!  

I rage for innocents betrayed,
Their voices silenced, their debts unpaid.
As angels' harps

rivers hum silently until rage spills

rivers stay silent
happy to hum to themselves
until a rage spills
in torrents, cascades and falls
only quelled in spells of drought

The Caged Phoenix

They locked her in a box of gold,
with chains that shimmered, stories told.
"Stay pretty,  still–don't ask for more,
The fire in you? Just folklore". 

she smiled like myths were make–believe, 
But hid a flame beneath her sleeve.
each breath she took was kindling slow,
A furnace marked in ash and glow. 

The saw her feathers, red and bright,
But

Compassion's Rage

Your name leaves a bruise on my lips,
like a ghost that lingers, life to strip,
with eyes that threaten as they smile
and a voice that cuts, low and vile.
My heart cries out in silence dark,
which you incinerate with careless spark.
Your compassion's rage rules my life,
twisting love into chains, sharpening strife.
I speak my truth and ask for

Thyroid Storms

She started crying in the middle of rages—
not the soft kind, but sharp,
like she’d cut herself on something
I couldn’t see.
She slammed drawers.
Shouted at a spoon.
Broke a plate and sobbed
as if the world had cracked with it.

Before she left,
my mother filled the kitchen with notes
written on paper towels—
taped to the cupboards,
the countertops, the fridge.
I couldn’t read,
but

Rage and Hatred

Raw, unfiltered anger, it’s all that I know. Constantly
Aggravated by worthless pieces of scum that I struggle
Getting off of my shoes. A nasty glare, a hostile retort,
Everything and anything can, and will, fan the flame.

After the infliction, what happens then? A swelling, a vicious,
Nasty swelling in the throat. A horrible torrent of flames threatens to
Destroy

FLY HIGH!

‘tis not this scape judgy?
‘lo, prey on the defenseless
short of a chirp, quite rationalized
facets of your twisted facade
the soul degrading you?
despises, despises theeself
thy insecurities shall protrude
thy good and their wrong spotlighted
i won’t get ready for this world
it will get ready for me
let their hearts pound in their chest
cause I’m fighting for those who can’t fight
it’s

Surviving Racist Knights of Columbus Peter Gargano RAGE UPON US

Surviving the knights of Columbus Peter gargano faking his death recieving full burial insurance from San Carlos Beach chapter sadly he has been hacking into chapter District 46 2505 state secretary Donald and O'Connor at our 2017 and 2019 convention home invasions ripping our badges shooting into my plants from text door our Jan 6th

Along With The Thunder

It wasn’t the lightning
that split me--
it was the silence that came before.
That breathless hush
like the world holding its tongue
right before it screams.

I have learned
to count the seconds
between betrayal and the crack--
the flash of what you did,
and the roar of who I became.

Don’t tell me
to be soft in this storm.
I was soft
when I begged,
when I bled

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