Short Protesting Poems
Short Protesting Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Protesting by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Protesting by length and keyword.
“Croakers”
Miracle Man
8/28/2028
In our pond Frogs croak,
are they just protesting me?
or some other snake?
how whimsy can best be defined
relates to the home of each mind
in England it's easy
but Yanks make you queasy
protesting that humor's maligned.
Expressing
digesting
protesting
frustratedly stifled.
Projecting
rejecting
infecting
frustratedly rifled.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Posted six days ago, hope that counts :)
Post Labor Day non conformists unite
even if it means getting kicked off a flight
protesting with hues
still wearing on cue
ivory to cream colored ghostly whites!
9-4-17
We wondered how long it would last
folks holding up traffic on the overpass
chanting be beano smart
we are the Anti-fart
protesting about people passing gas.
10-29-17
Protesting late arrival of spring
This long winter's been lingering
Seriously overstayed its welcome
Not leaving till it's warm and sunny
I’m staying indoors to shout and pout
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
The students couldn't wait
until the fat lady sung,
so some heaved rocks
while others slung dung..
Bonded by the beat from
an umbilical drum,
protesting in the streets
as one, Hashina's authoritarian regime
was overcome.
Pouncing on all that moves
Playfully mimicking all we do
Purposely frolicking and care-free
Pretending to mind, but only for food
Panting for all your attention
Protesting by squeals and barks
Purporting to have our hearts
After the snow and the thaw set in, the bigger birds banished all the little ones to the
higher branches of the trees as they fed on nuts and seeds. Big bullies lol!
melting morning
wagtails protest from above
as crows swoop to feast
I used to see him on the news
Protesting with his points of view
About the war out in Iraq
How we should bring all our troops back.
He had a lot of things to vent
So moved to London with his tent
The Wedding came
"Move on" they said
A few weeks later he was dead.
Form:
A quilt of snowfall
Interrupts my peaceful sleep
Rest comes into Spring
Blackened clouds looming
Determination of sun
A battle of wills
Rebellious bird
Early spreading of its wings
Mother close behind
Lone apple remains
Dangling a fragile branch
Protesting Winter
In awe, upon the canyon rim I stand,
Westward looking, entranced by a dying sun,
Who protesting, casts its blood across the sky.
There, beyond its sanguine crimson reach,
Against the blue dark velvet cloak,
A single trembling star pulsates.
A gem placed by God upon the breast of night
Doing what is right,
When all others do is wrong
Standing out in a crowd,
When no-one else dares be so loud
Speaking for whats correct,
Even if you gain no respect
Protesting for the truth,
While others deem you uncouth
This is the truth about being brave,
Speak up for justice, the world you will save
Passive protests
any reason to protest
protesting democracy
unable to accept
Protest save democracy
previous reject
protest passive
remain no respect
No respect for themselves
no respect for democracy
And ultimately as well
no respect for our country
This is bad losing
sour
Sad acts
As I ambled around the village pond
I skimmed a stone through reed and frond,
In distress, ducks took flight
Guilty I, to cause them fright.
Protesting loudly in their quacking
My common sense seemed sadly lacking,
I never thought that stone I chucked
Would cause such grief, to little ducks.
Fabulous elephant poetry monks
endlessly murmuring verse through their trunks.
Protesting pachyderms trumpeting tales,
waging their war against ivory sales.
African, Indian, it matters not;
Horton’s rough rampage will make your ears hot!
---------
tridactyl dums, for lack of a better description...
Movements arise, much to our surprise, protesting against autocracy.
We interpret the fight, as being just, and right, and favoring democracy.
But what if we’re wrong, and it’s just a swan song, to disguise something more fundamental?
We’ll have to rethink, or swim and then sink, ‘cuz it could end up somewhat detrimental.
The wall
Appears stiff and cold
To the hands
The wall
Appears blank and blind
To the eyes
The wall
Appears deaf and dumb
To the ears
The wall
Appears protesting and imprisoning
To the minds
The wall
Appears strange, unattainable and grim
To the hearts
But the wall
Appears safe and reliable
To the places we fall asleep
after Katrina
bodies floated in the tide…
rooftop watchers feared
storm surge broke the dam
New Orleans underwater…
both lives and homes lost
city known for saints
by demonic sea consumed…
more than a Cat Five
nature lashing out
protesting the harm we do…
history repeats
*Entry for PD’s Nature the Destroyer” contest
I remember when
bell-bottom pants were a fashion;
I wore them not thinking I was a hippie
protesting war with contention...
mom was afraid I'd be drafted and lose me.
I remember when
an ice cream cone cost only a dime,
all its ingredients were truly natural;
now, all vendors compete and mime...
one can't find that one that's sensational.
Twelve accusers hoping
Eleven charges pending
Ten summoners summoning
Nine lawyers proselytizing
Eight defendants screaming
Seven protesters protesting
Six reporters reporting
Five ambulances on call.
Four morticians digging
Three activists sitting
Two clergymen preaching
One hangman salivating
And zero politicians waking
from their dreams.
I hear snapping jaws of intolerance
and hatred, dripping with bile of
irrational anger: stoked, stroked, fired
by pseudojournalists and narrow-minded
commentators spinning fabrications
like deadly spiders in darkened holes,
each web of deceit mending the false
strands, repeatedly sheared by truth,
how dare they take the sacred name
of painted Patriots protesting.
MESSAGE LEFT
While you were out, the world came to an end
There was no cataclysm, no protesting cry
No final trumpet call to comprehend
But long exhaling breath, communal sigh
I tried to call: lines busy, no connection
I suppose I was not alone with a message, above
all other concerns and issues of every complexion:
this one universal assurance of unending love
the stubborn semi stood on his head
you cannot make me go, he said to Ed
Ed was angry now, a trucker who never swore
You are a piece of work, metal scrap and more!
the town came to see the semi and gave support
he was just protesting his wages, said Uncle Mort
He has been on his head for sixteen weeks now, of course.
Ed finally left, riding away on a sad looking horse.
Protesting the change
We’re born quite alone
Immediately loved,
We hear, “Welcome Home!”
We learn when we fuss
Give out a great cry
Someone will comfort
Our needs not denied
At end of this earth-life
We transition once more
We protest and struggle
As we did once before
And though we’re afraid
And confidence lack
Heavenly forms greet us
Calling, “Welcome Back!”