Social Justice Poetry

poor leadership poems

Our Oleander | A Social Justice Poem by Dale Champlin

—all this hatred

For you: Oleander, poisonous leader,
all the clutter of your deranged mind
twittering, littering the internet
mindless of kindness—stockpiling rocks of hatred
ignorant of the past, of beauty, of knowledge,
misogynist, philanderer. Stone in darkness
under the thunder of propellers
deaf to the chunka-chunka of war
inured to songs of unrelieved cacophony,
worshiper of shallow thought and greed.
We are your glass house
while you throw stone after stone.
We shatter but some will pick up your stones
and throw from the inside.
You cower stone-hearted in your stockpile
Your orange seed follicles scatter clamor,
discord, dissonance, and uproar.
What place means love to you?
Where is your kindness?
Have you forgotten,
or did you never know?

It’s Clear | A Social Justice Poem by Lynn White

On a clear night
I should see the moon full silver
in a sky shot by moonbeams,
Not greyed by a smoky mist
and dust clouds rising from the ruins.

I should see a black, black sky,
Not bright from the orange glow
from the fires of hell on earth
Which send sparks high enough
to compete with the stars,
the pinpoint moonbeam spangles,
Not beamed by lasers.

I should hear the silence
in the depth of the black night,
not the explosive cacophony
bought by the masters of war
and the silent screams
buried in the rubble.

I should hear people talking in the street
and the music and laughter of the night.
I should see them walking home
to feel firm flesh loving and soft
unsplintered and unblemished by shrapnel,
unbroken by the metal-clad monsters
masquerading as humanity and
wrapping themselves in the uniforms
of thousand year old myths
dressed up as history.

These should be my rights,
But they aren’t.

I have no rights,
Nor do you.

Only what they give us,
the men of the flags,


Visit Lynn at