Poeaxtry's Prism

Spell. Stone. & Sparks that Ignite Change

Tag: activist poetry

  • Day 10 of 100 Days of Poetry- “New Year Same Fight”- A Call Out Poem

    Day 10 of 100 Days of Poetry- “New Year Same Fight”- A Call Out Poem

    Day ten lands in that strange quiet between calendars, when people throw confetti over unresolved harm and call it renewal.

    This poem doesn’t toast the turning of the year.

    It questions it.

    Because remember a new date doesn’t undo old violence.

    A holiday doesn’t cancel policy.

    And cheer, when it’s demanded instead of earned, becomes another form of pressure.

    This is for anyone who feels the dread creep in louder than the countdown.

    “New Year, Same Fight”

    As we get closer

    to the end of this year,

    I can’t even pretend

    that the fear of the coming one

    doesn’t outweigh the cheer.

    How do I celebrate

    a future where we can’t

    agree to be different

    and still live in harmony?

    How do I look forward

    to another year

    of hate and policy

    thrown about haphazardly,

    leaving only those like you and me

    standing under the terror rain?

    How do you play along,

    pretend everything’s okay,

    celebrate a holiday

    that only marks the turning of years

    and never the growth of humankind?

    You must be out of your god damn mind.

    Give me something worth celebrating,

    and with you, I will cheer.

    Until then,

    I already have something worth fighting for,

    so I won’t be blinded

    by your unwarranted holiday.

    Comment one thing you’re refusing to celebrate blindly this year, and why. Or Share one value you’re carrying into the new year even when it costs you comfort.

    Up Poet’s Note

    This poem came from watching joy be weaponized.

    From seeing celebration demanded from people who are actively being harmed by the systems others toast.

    Hope isn’t confetti.

    Optimism isn’t obedience.

    Refusing to cheer doesn’t mean refusing to live.

    Sometimes it means choosing clarity over distraction.

    If this poem sounds like someone you know, someone exhausted by forced positivity, someone whose survival keeps getting labeled as “too political”… Share this with them. Or send it to the person who keeps telling you to “just focus on the good” while ignoring the cost.

    Not every new year deserves applause.

    Some deserve resistance, honesty, and memory.

    If you’d like to support work that pushes acceptance, hope, and the refusal to accept inequality when it counts! Consider a donation via CashApp, PayPal, Ko-Fi, or Buy Me a Coffee. This helps to keep our projects and community thriving.

    Poeaxtry Links Day5

  • Poem day 8/100: “Failing, Badly” – America the Blind- visceral poetry

    Poem day 8/100: “Failing, Badly” – America the Blind- visceral poetry

    This is my day 8 poem for the 100 poems in 100 days contest started on threads. Here I am exploring the intersections of political power, personal trauma, and societal complicity. “Failing, Badly” titled after the ending of the merry Christmas post on his social site truth social. This poem confronts the shocking realities of public figures’ actions and the collective silence that allows abuse to continue, using visceral imagery and direct language to provoke reflection and outrage. Content warning mention on CSA and Incest aligned thinking! Do not proceed if you are not comfortable being uncomfortable.

    “Failing,badly”

    I began to wonder

    seeing repeats of Donny’s

    “truth” on December 24.

    Radical leftists scum.

    Would if he’d stop

    riding our asses if we

    pretended not to care

    little girls make him cum.

    Visceral visual

    disgusting

    disturbing

    America the brave

    Where are they?

    Failing badly

    Or

    They transitioned to

    America the

    Blind.

    To trump voters the

    Mother’s and Father’s

    Of girls, who voted him in

    I have a

    Question

    How’d you vote for a man who

    publicly makes taboo statements

    About his own

    Kid?

    “if Ivanka weren’t my daughter, perhaps I’d be dating her.”

    Admitting to reoccurring times of

    Bring up Incest adjacent

    Attraction

    on the tv screen

    Now cheer for your President.


    Did this make you wince, get pissed, or something more? Drop what feelings it stirred in you in the comments or even other things it reminded you about.

    Poet’s Note:

    I wrote this poem in response to the resurfacing of statements made by Americas first king that should disturb any human conscience. It’s intentionally loud, intentionally uncomfortable. The poem uses repetition, short lines, and stark imagery to mimic the emotional jolt of confronting truths that the people who could stop this, or care often ignore. I hope it sparks conversation, reflection, and a refusal to normalize abuse.

    “Failing, Badly” is a call to awareness and accountability. It is not enough to witness wrongdoing and look away. Poetry can amplify discomfort and force reflection. This I feel can be an essential step toward change. America must confront the failures of its leaders and the complicity of its change makers and citizens, before history writes another chapter of moral collapse. Notice each one is worse than the last as history progresses? We have got to do better!

    Share this poem if you please let it travel like wildfire and reach the ones who need to see it, feel it, or wrestle it. Poetry and truth deserve no quiet corners.

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  • Day 7 of My 100 Days of Poetry- A call for: “Creating Curated Change”

    Day 7 of My 100 Days of Poetry- A call for: “Creating Curated Change”

    Day 7 of my 100 Days of Poetry series is about intentional creation, refusing extraction, and building space for voices that are too often talked over, repackaged, or erased. This poem speaks to the act of creating with purpose, not as spectacle, not as trauma currency, but as documentation, resistance, and invitation. It is about community built with care, not permission, and about forward motion that actually follows through.

    Creating Curated Change

    I don’t write of

    trauma

      pain

    life’s unseen stains

    to pass an emotional buck

    Not one to complain

    Unseen pain outside of me

    I do not

    have not

    will not

    seek unsolicited help to

    shoulder a burden that

    no one can claim to own

    outside of me

    I weave words willfully

    immortalized receipts

    capturing points of view

    perpetually prevented from

    participating in literary and artistic

    mind meetings

    Expect me to be

    never

    asking permission

    from a single soul

    and

    stopping for the same

    Current and future people like me

    need opportunity to see

    other people’s perspectives

    that actually relate

    consciously communicate

    No more stolen

    minority

      makers

        manifestations

        through creation

    Curated creative community

    No more requirements of

    status

      education

        plausible politeness past

    wreck the walls that gatekeep creation

    Forward action, curating change,

    no more complaining with zero follow-through

    Creative creatures collect, creating change

    Poet’s note

    This poem was written as a refusal. A refusal to create for consumption alone, to package pain for approval, or to dilute language for comfort. The “curation” here is not exclusion, it is intention. It is about protecting creative spaces from extraction while still opening doors for those who have been historically shut out.

    The idea of “immortalized receipts” speaks to indie publishing minority works both mine and community, to proof of lived experience, and to the power of language as record. This piece centers community that creates with accountability, forward action, and care, rather than performance or proximity to status.

    “Creating Curated Change” is a declaration of practice, not theory. It challenges the idea that creativity must be polite, credentialed, or palatable to matter. Instead, it argues for community built through conscious communication, lived perspective, and actual follow-through.

    This poem invites readers to consider not just what they create, but how, why, and who is allowed to participate. Change does not come from endless critique alone. It comes from collective making, from tearing down the gates, and from building something better in their place.

    Links

    Speaking of community and creations don’t forget you can submit work to our first quarterly by emailing poeaxtry@gmail.com or submitting a form.

    Deadline is 2/12/2926

    Find out more about submitting here

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