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Violence Beauty Poems | Violence Poems About Beauty

These Violence Beauty poems are examples of Violence poems about Beauty. These are the best examples of Violence Beauty poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Elegy | |

Oh Syria

Reality is lost and I fear…
That someday…somewhere so near…
I will fall amongst the people so dear…
I fear…that I’ll just be another one…
Another one lost…

I wonder what the cost of my life is
not to get too political…
But I want to know what the cost of my life is
Is it money…is it land
I do not own any of them…I’m just a simple man

I remember…When I ran across your land…
I remember when I kissed my grandmother’s hands…
But you ripped my away from her…From my home
you ripped my away from my heart…you ripped me away from my soul

I feel helpless…I feel low…
It’s hard to play along when I know…I have no role
I have become a slave.
After all the love I gave.

When I look at my country…people I want to save
When I look around me…people I need to change
It seems like a hard thing to do…
when the range of people is way bigger than you

Freedom…oh how much I’ve heard that word
Freedom…oh how this idea has become absurd
when God gave us life…
He warned us only he can take our lives…

Oh Syria…my home
Oh Syria…my all
Oh Syria…what did they hurt you for?
Oh Syria…I’m here…I won’t let them hurt you anymore…
I am Proud to be your son…


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

acceptance

   Who's that staring through my window walls, with eyes as old as time
the clock has not yet moved and the wind outside has died
no breath for me to find nor the strength to check the time
unless the minute hand is lying theirs a chance i may have died
I wish this all a dream but the eyes i see dont lie, they have told me with their watching that all men do really cry
yet in vain is all my wishing but perhaps this is delusion of a sedimentary man with his mind ripe for losing 
Come at me then red devil, I shout within my mind yet the tension I had hoped for was delayed and rather dry
no ravishingly velvet flame encircled this such room, nor were the furniture and ottoman  thrown like an old shoe
marvelous the time in which a demon throwns your home and his only one intent is to stare right through your soul
 to that i bid goodnight to you, to do as you wish, regardless of the manner I am nothing more then fish. to be shot out of a barrel for a fellow such as this
If you do deem it fit that I wake another morning all i ask is that the clocks all please return to working order


Details | Lyric | |

VOLCANO

Yo, Guys, 
Check it out!

Volcanoes blow, 
some fast... some slow

All right stop, 
hear me out and listen
Mountain outta nothing, 
Mother Nature's invention
Deep within the earth, 
pressure grows tightly
The molten lava flows, 
daily and nightly
Looking to escape, 
gotta find a place to go
An unexpected pop, 
or a never ceasing flow
Incinerating path, 
or a bursting burning vandal 
Spewing rock and gas, 
or a deadly dripping candle

Composite volcano, 
erie calm then cataclysmic boom
Pyroclastic chaos, 
a deadly poisonous mushroom
Deadly fiery mass, 
a leaping rock lava melody
Spreading ash for miles, 
a majestic tragedy
When the mountain ignites, 
betta get out of her way
In a matter of moments, 
she'll make night outta day
Composite volcano, 
Yo.. study and try to solve it
A spontaneous temper tantrum, 
no way to resolve it

Volcanic explosive debris, 
andesite and dacite rock
Goes off when she wants, 
oh no.. not set to your clock
Mayon Volcano Philippines, 
and Mount Fuji in Japan
Part of the "Rim of Fire", 
that still amazes modern man
The majesty of Mount Rainer, 
lies in Washington state
Pillar into the sky, 
jaw dropping she's so great 
Conical rough hued mountain, 
so steep at the vent
A composite volcano, 
BAM.. an explosive event!

Cinder cone volcano, 
gets its name from falling ash
What goes up in smoke, 
comes down in smoldering crash
Steep slopes like a Composite, 
but its flat at the top
Much smaller than a Shield, 
less deadly in its fiery pop
But what's truly outstanding, 
how quick this mount can grow
In 9 years from that 43' cornfield, 
the magnificent Paricutin in Mexico
There's the Sunset Crater in Arizona, 
Lava Butte in Oregon
These treasures known for beauty, 
and much less for brawn

Shield volcano, 
incredibly powerful without jumping
Mountain continually grows, 
as liquid fire keeps pumping 
Heat beyond belief, boiling river.. 
there's no mistaking
Takes out everything in its path, 
no lying, I'm not faking
Slow dancing combustion, 
that forms layers of smooth rock
A night and day red rumble, 
a never ceasing tick tock  
She's a five degree angle, 
of two thousand degree basalt 
Her flow over many miles, 
a deadly unrelenting assault 

Magma from the mantle burns, 
a hole in lithospheric plate
A flaming searing inferno, 
a blazing scorching lake
Mauna Loa and Kilauea, 
spatter ramparts curtains of fire
These are Hawaii's highest peaks, 
and tourist great desire.
But the tallest of all, 
on the Red Planet ya see its scars
Higher than three Mount Everest, 
Olympus Mons of Mars
She once was a warrior in battle, 
unceasing and aglow
Advancing and defeating, 
the most massive shield volcano!

But ya can't talk volcanos, 
leave Mount Saint Helen's off da map
Wouldn't be good science, 
no rhyme to reason in dat info rap
She was the most notorious catastrophic eruption, 
May 18, 1980
A massive debris avalanche, 
was triggered by this angry lady 
The most destructive in US history,
"Teach" remembers that day
When it "snowed" ash across America, 
in the middle of May.

Sponsor: Jared Pickett
Contest Name: Collaboration 



Details | Ballade | |

Oh, what a hectic month

Oh,what a hectic month

Oh what a month it’s been
Two lots of relies came
Over from the old country
It’s been a frantic game
I’m not used to all this stuff
But I’m glad it all took place
Although it was real hectic
No frown did crease my face.

One trip to Margaret River
Wow! This, it was a blast
We toured those rich surroundings
Till we went home at last
Then the darned flue knocked me down
And I spent some time in bed
And then I put my back out
As I banged my bloody head.

It seemed that I was on the mend
But my computer shat itself
I lost both poems, and photos
They’re the sum of all my wealth
Thank God I got the poems back
Alas, but not the photos
I guess I lost them, all of them
But this is how it goes


It’s been some heavy karma
That’s all that I can say
But now that it’s all over
I feel real fine today
So it’s back to meditation
And working on my soul
It’s time to get some relaxation
And once more feeling whole

23 October 2013 @1450hrs.



Details | Free verse | |

The Strand

This expanse of land has seen things. 
Things all of us can only see in dreams.
It's seen war, it's gotten it's fair share of scars.
Bombs bursting, bullets throwing sand into the air like it's a volleyball tournament.
The sand running red with blood silently mocking our arteries.

This magnificent stretch of land has seen heroes' tears fall; dropping to their knees while sadness envelopes their fallen brothers but also looking up to their beloved whilst carrying a ring in their hand. 

It's seen bright days, the sun glimmering over wet sand, footprints of past loves being washed away as the sun smacks the horizon. 

This expanse of land...has seen things we can only imagine.

T.K


Details | Ballad | |

The joy of the pheasant shoot

The joy of the pheasant shoot.

Getting set for the big event
The good folk do their stuff
They beat the earth with sticks, do they?
With their little dogs so tough 
They flush those pheasants from the scrub
So all can have some fun
Killing them with smiling faces
As they fire beloved guns.

Then as the pheasants in a panic
They bolt into the sky
Our hero’s with their guns in hand
Make sure that hundreds die
As the air is filled with the cracking sounds
As birds fall all around
Just so these fools can get there jollies
These corpses cover ground.

I wonder sometimes if these hero’s
Have any souls at all
That they could get such satisfaction
Doing these acts so cruel
Sometimes it leaves me speechless
At the way folk get their pleasure
Killing beauty just for fun
Is an ugly kind of leisure.

10 September 2013 @ 1340hrs




Details | Ballade | |

Padock filled with bulls

The paddock’s filled with bulls
All waiting there to die
They don’t have too much future
For the farmer, he’s the guy
Who has the power of life, and death
He decides what lives and dies
As he fattens each beast carefully
That’s where his money lies.

I see these creatures roaming round
And it makes me feel quite sad
To know that for my appetite
These beasts be treated bad
The taste of steak is mighty good
But what a price we pay
I eat my share of it, that’s true
Perhaps I’ll stop one day!

One paddock filled with bulls
It opens my eyes wide
To realize these wondrous beasts
Throughout the years have died
So I might feast with bulging belly
It really is not fair
Living on this little farm
It fills my heart with care.

2006


Details | Rhyme | |

Winter Learning Ducks

Afternoons the sky shuts down around the swamp's warning tapes
propped up with restoration piping and dirt leak fencing.
We’re fleeing toward the wild, seeking the names and shapes, 
the same way the Cedar Waxwing flit and grip for berries tree to tree.

Canada Geese are easy, they lead off down the lane leaving residue,
Widgeons have green stripes and gold stripes, one American 
the other European, and they’re all mumbling our family phew-do
they didn’t burn the kid, they can’t keep the house clean, drugs…

Blink away the cold wind tears. Forget all that, only remember
Shovelers have the long low profile and the long bill from studies
in New Zealand, like a deep breath, we set aside work, unlimber
spy the race of killdeer away from their guarding territory in gravel.

Our boss didn’t try to replace us, he ducked out to a new job
leaving the crime ringing in our ears like the police car roaring past.
Head down, we tunnel under the high way finding the dunk and bob
of mergansers and their hallowed or red heads,

remarking differences when the sudden scream of honking
mallards flee up river. Caught off guard, we wonder did we cause
all this pain? The rise and dunk flying goldfinch happily chirping
cling to the thistle, their favorite waste near the waste water

ponds where all the Black River water flows for cleaning
spilling into the nesting lower stages of the tertiary treatment.
That’s all this is, treatment for the shock wave week riding
current events on our shoulders, almost like the red-tailed hawk

that screams and skims our head, rising up to the setting sun 
turning the sky purple and pink and bruised. That’s when wood
ducks skim into view, our breath captured and then steaming undone
but soon the heavens offer confirmation, blue angels
with their huge oversized wings soar in pairs down as gift.
We hold each other then, let screams silence, detail enriched.