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The Role of Poetry in Cultural Preservation and Heritage. Content Warning.
In the tapestry of human civilization, poetry stands as a vibrant thread woven with the colors of culture, tradition, and heritage. Through the ages, poets have served as custodians of the collective memory, preserving the stories, beliefs, and values of their ancestors in verse. In this exploration of the role of poetry in cultural preservation and heritage, we embark on a journey through time and space, tracing the echoes of heritage that reverberate in the poetic traditions of diverse cultures around the world.
By JOSIAH NWOKO2 years ago in Poets
Poetry in the Digital Age. Content Warning.
In the digital age, where bytes of data traverse cyberspace and virtual communities thrive, poetry has found a new canvas for expression on online platforms and social media networks. As poets navigate this digital landscape, they embark on a journey of discovery, exploring the possibilities and challenges of sharing their verse with audiences across the globe. In this exploration of poetry in the digital age, we delve into the nuances of navigating online platforms and social media for poetic expression.
By JOSIAH NWOKO2 years ago in Poets
Stained
What the hell happened to you, faithful, floundering boy? You took every woman you could seize as an admission to your own court of indecency. Why? How? You took me to your mother, you said I was yours, you took me to your father, you said I was yours... was yours until I saw you. You took my special place, you discarded all of me; I prevailed. Your eyes were always positioned, ready for your next prey; I was keen and could smell your carrion well before its take. What happened to you good Catholic boy, why did you long for drunken nights with cloudless aims? How did you think life would be when I walked away, albeit unwillingly? You seek the reassurance that you have meaning in another's arms, yet failed to know the seed you sowed, still you have never grown? I heard you were alone, by the city docks, looking back to the sunset where once we swam as one. Please, find the message of a sailor's dream, pick up the bottle I have dreamed. An ancient scroll I present; your child is broken, your brother dead; and I was once your love. The world you shared was in greed; barren you live with all we heed. Sorrow beckons us all to mourn, yet old lover you were never born. Take and taking more and more, the bottle to baste your heart to mourn. You stole my trust, my belief in good, you gave me nothing, nothing, nothing hood. I am old, I should be better, but what you did scarred me forever. I want to face you and say you were wrong, yet my being now is much too strong. I do not wish you to perish or rot; I am in heaven and you are not.
By ROCK aka Andrea Polla (Simmons)2 years ago in Poets
Vultures
Vultures all That is our culture now They fly in for a bite Once they’ve got what they need They take flight Thank you for reading my work. If you enjoyed this story, there’s more below. Please hit the like and subscribe button, you can follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram @AtomicHistorian. To help me create more content, leave a tip or become a pledged subscriber. I also make stickers, t-shirts, etc here.
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
