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Violence Patriotic Poems | Violence Poems About Patriotic

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

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Details | Epitaph | |

John F Kennedy

John F. Kennedy 1917-1963 The great 35th president of US It wasn't really a success He tried to stop the missile bases There were lot of angry faces When there was about to be a war Peace was what he asked for Texas was the place he was shot Later, the criminal was caught He didn't survive the pain His people cried like the rain

Copyright © Heeju Kim | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode | |

Love is a Sacrifice

You have my soul, but you have your fate Whatever your words, I’m willing to take You have my word; I’ll give you my breath It’s like a chain that would never be break You are my love with all my heart, I’ll fight for you with all my might. And in the way, you admire your goals, You hold my hands, but not so close. As you go to your chosen path, I’ll accept the fact that we will be apart. In the dark side, I leave behind Within my faith, that you’ll arise Please don’t look back, coz I’m fighting still I’m hurting so much! Don’t want to have you near I accept my fate for what it does, I’m bleeding so much, do you know for whom it was? You reach your goals, as you want to have, Would you remind the man that gave what he had? As you reach the stars, and be the one Be a sun that shines its own. After the rain, the rainbow comes, Like dark in the moon, when the light flash A glimpse from you at least a short For then I knew my pain is worth.

Copyright © Emmanuel Fajutagana | Year Posted 2013

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

Copyright © Tyler Kisner | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet | |

On a Soldier's Death

His back meets the cold, wet grass under him,
his eyes meet the blue endless sky hovering over him.

The cigarette from his hand dies out as it meets the sopping grass below
He feels the blood escape his body that now is no longer whole.

As he stares up into the sky,
he thinks of the girl he hated to leave behind.

He thinks of his mother, her tears streaming down,
his father’s proud hand, as it strongly grazed his crown.

He thinks of the men fighting for their life,
He thinks of his enemy, ducking for his life.

He thinks of the reasons war even exists,
Maybe this isn’t the way one should even live.

The sounds of his men approaching feels distant in his ear,
the struggle to save a life is unyielding,
 
when the bullet cuts through the heart,
there is no weaker feeling. 

Slowly the sounds of planes hushes down,
The sounds of gunfire are stifled,

The missiles whistling in the background stop
and all of nature’s sounds just suppress, as they come to a halt.

The men become blurry as his eyes start to freeze,
The body that once fought, now turned to solid ice.

For the last time in his life,
he thinks of the girl he wishes he never left behind.

He thinks of his mother, whose tears will continue to run,
the father’s proud hand, that wont ever touch his son.

In these last few seconds, he does not feel scared,
as he spent this life fighting strongly for his homeland.

Copyright © Jovana Pokrajac | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Patience

PATIENCE

We hear that patience is a virtue 
Is this true, or simply virtual reality 
When leaders are teaching our youth; 
do as I say, not as I do 
Regression to a version of the American 
truth

Impatience is becoming intolerance 
But to be patient is viewed as ignorance 
In a blind world conforming to violence 
Very few see need for benevolence

Many view crime as way of life 
Government fuels fires, causing strife 
Committing true crime with their lack of 
pride 
Our country torn by those who lied

Promoting bigotry and distaste for the 
unknown
 But these days color and homosexuality 
are lactose free 
Intolerant of equality, it’s a problem, 
clearly 
Love is love, embrace the hate 
Hold it tightly until it sees the light

Peace pushed just beyond our reach 
We realize that “hope and change” was 
just a speech 
Wars raging through the land we call 
home 
In God we trust, not this powerful regime

Speak out now with virtuous impatience 
Change is change no matter how small 
the feat
Restore hope with unfaltering acceptance 
and grace 
Serve what you stand for, no time left to 
waste

Copyright © Gabrielle Charisse | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

Ideological War of the Worlds

 The coming times can unfold,
far accross to all lands,
the casting shadow has fallen,
with it's far reaching hands,
accross our four cornered world,,
 Humanity progressed to progressive sufferage,
that comes with many names,
the ideology won without a shot,
convinced populations into guilted shame,
lost are voices of courage,,
 The warring world will arise,
between makers and takers,
parasitic ideology's green eyed mind,
re-writing regulations by progressive thinkers,
big brother's utopian great enterprise,,
 Dependent we all become, parasitically,
even forced fed into submission,
by governmental state so enlarged,
numbered you are by institution,
nothing owned, only redistributed cynically,,
 Paupers suffer under progressive fortitude,
soulless programs of living propaganda,
your worth, what you produce,
socialized into this living agenda,
living taxed products of servitude,
           , and then...
 The rise will come independent,
carrying courage and freedom proudly,
with wisdoms weapon in hand,
knowledge in the other soundly,
honor reclaimed by the sentient,,
 Independent declarations germinating from seed,
feared by any progressive regime,
warriors in freedom stand tall,
threatened is the progressive dream,
renewing freedoms that will breed,,
 The liberty that spawned revolution, 
alive from all moral conceptions,
viewed as evil that's progressive,
feared are soulless seeking redemption,
the light of liberty's salvation,,
 Beating freedoms of sentient heart,
the salvation of fighting worth,
a force greater than any darkness,
warriors of liberty step forth,
champions of honor that impart,,
     , next, the final chapter of...
 Ideological war of the worlds,
eye to eye never seen,
the hatred between clearly drawn,
problems with peace to intervene,
the conflict as it unfolds,,
 Coming as thieves of night,
armys on both sides  comes,
fortifying and building societial walls,
truth and lies propaganda welcomes,
armored suited masses to fight,,
 Emerges the lights of honor,
the independent class called defenders,
private elites of character gold,
the shadows behind all pretenders,
opperatives that's far more superior,,
 Defenders are warriors of light,
core beliefs that's solely independent,
religiously organized they never follow,
thorns in a crowned tyrant,
independent wills of great might,,
 They are why freedom thrives,
true leaders leading into tomorrow,
that govern by liberty's will
that invites everyone to follow,
founding fathers of our lives..  

Copyright © S.K. Y. | Year Posted 2013

Details | Vaasokht | |

BLACK,RED AND GOLD

BLACK,RED and GOLD

Location---SOMEWHERE IN KÖNIGSBERG 1945 APRIL 9
Scene---A Dying German Agent/A Soldier`s thoughts/reflections just before death 

On this periphery of life
Let blue jeans of my ice blonde Brenda wear me to marry with death
Fire will be her gown, ashes shall be my girdle, shattered is everything beneath
Smokes so discerned sprawling
Some will say it was a poetic corpse after so deadly the strife

Wrapped in unknown funerary fetes
My blood will be poured in cask of mimicks
A yawn concealing me in semicolon as I saw I was dying, 
sickened of the sicks
All the ravens of sorcery lurking the corner in full stops
As if I knew nothing following the wisdom of Socrates

Boots and kilt emphasizing my lost treasure
At last the casket to embrace me from the provocateur
No persuasive argument will be my candy,
a keepsake solidarity in barter 
A marked plot spewed by shrewd men
An aftermath velvet and a last squint of Prussia far and near

Death so dear only to see if the lady in red silk I loved has red roses
My dear Soviet plezhvadya
for the wide-brimmed black hat, red bloody eyes hers, a gunshot
,yellow mouthful venom of words oozing out in raucous abuses
Hatred carped in end and unend Olesya, good as gold my Olesya

Now the bastion they called bastards buccaneered before her epithet
Kaliningrad`s cloud full of black so black an obnoxious smoke
Davai! Davai! they shouted and again nemesis eavesdropped
Eagles died I know not if a death of glory as I felt I saw an 1871 gauntlet
That’s my last shot of life before I became death`s forgotten lucky bloke

Vocabulary --1-Plezhvadya(Russian/Czech)- A Soviet dish
                   2.Davai!(Russian)--Let`s do it, Come on!
                   3.Obnoxious-extremely unpleasant 
                   4.Gauntlet-An armored glove of the tectonic Knights
                   5.Raucous-Harsh,Sharp,Loud
                   6.Barter-Exchange,Trade,Swap without use of money
                   7.Buccaneer-Maruader,Plunderer,Raider

Copyright © Reynold del Rey | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

PATRIOT ACT

we chose leaders to get along with each other
behind close doors
they’re plotting and stealing from each other
playing world domination
now we gotta go to war with each other
folded flags on wooden coffins
mourning fathers and mothers
no more war
let the leaders work it out with each other
exemplify love
love displays no hatred for another 
truth speaker
true leaders get along with each other
create peace    not war    unity together
impostors posing as leaders
no shame or another
teaching the world not to get along 
go to war   murder   rape   steal from the other
cut the patriot act
war is hatred
love is peace
exempt from a patriot act
thou shall not kill
leaders hiding behind a patriot act
follow the leader   follow the leader
what leader?
lose the patriot act

Copyright © Nailah Baniti | Year Posted 2016

Details | Villanelle | |

Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent - 29

Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent – 29

At last O Children of the Mother Contrées*
Roll out the red carpets for High Potentates
The hour of glory at Champs–Elysées

Cry not from Eiffel Tower 2C degrés
Temperature rises end of century, Mates
At last O Children of the Mother Contrées

Streak frowning skies in red white and blue display
Let pent-up champagne pop through foie-gras plates
The hour of glory at Champs-Elysées

Limousines line up for haute couture soirées
Blue-ribonned chefs dress-up spruced-up back-door dates
At last O Children of the Mother Contrées

Tri-colour ice cream on rhino-horn purées
See not hear not how iceberg disintegrates
The hour of glory at Champs-Elysées

Chefs d’Etat promise profit for protégés
While oceans swamp islands rivers city-states
At last O Children of the Mother Contrées
The hour of glory at Champs-Elysées

•	The final “s” in French is silent 

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2015

Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain | |

Fading Anguish

Forced down onto the thick mud
the stench of this rotten blood
Determined for this to be surreal
My fate would change if it were real

My life begins anew In my head
From the time mother put me to bed
Father took me to my first Yankee’s game
Where I was inspired by their fame

To keep the kids soundly in bed
My blood, I fear, I must shed
Not knowing whether I would live or die
the anguish is consuming my thigh

The pain is slowly dying out
my destiny is nothing but a doubt
Laying on the red infested loam
Guadalcanal, you are my last home.

Copyright © Jorge Torres | Year Posted 2013

Details | Villanelle | |

Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent - 37

Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent – 36

All day long we kill to keep the home clean
Insecticides aerosols rat poison
The killer instinct makes us bold and mean

Down by the pond mosquitoes wake and preen
Time to send fighter jets by the dozen
All day long we kill to keep the house clean

Peeled apples for veg flies succulent wean
We spend week-ends choking every last one
The killer instinct makes us bold and mean

Kids we love but not the kind who boil spleen
So we sock the wife more than hard in the bun
All day long we kill to keep the home clean

At Antipodes some guys flex muscles lean
Call that homefront affront to smite them down
The killer instinct makes us bold and mean

What counts home comfort by all overseen
Secure society to foist nation
All day long we kill to keep the house clean
The killer instinct makes us bold and mean

©  T. Wignesan – Paris,  2015

Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

The Mourning Doves

Dedicated to my grandpa.




As I look to the sky
My eyes lay upon the glistening moon
Hearing the distant cry
For the battle will here soon.

The soft, sweet breeze
Flowing toward the West
Does not settle or ease
The pain filling my chest.

My life has been taken over by fear
And my memories are now only distant dreams
For tonight I will shed my last tear
Overcome by Satan’s evil screams

Will I escape this living Hell
Or will I perish for my country
For if tonight is my last farewell
I hope I do not leave bluntly.

I wish this could all change
As I watch the trees sway back and forth
Though all we pay attention to the rifle range
And how stealthily we push North.

What we need is not only love
Not only trust 
Not the wake up calls of the mourning doves
Or the evening gust. 

What we need is something simple
Something easy to grant
Something beyond any starts twinkle
But smaller than any plant.

For this divine gift
Is not an enemy cease
But the pain lift
Of the great and mighty peace. 

Copyright © Brian Byrne | Year Posted 2015

Details | Limerick | |

Limericks crochetes: Once a cardsharp comic called Don Dump


Limericks crochetés: Once a cardsharp comic called Don Dump

Once a cardsharp comic called Don Dump
Made father’s money jump during slump
Dreamed of ruling this earth
Joined campaign (in) stand-up mirth
Made people laugh without using trump.

He played to the gallery hirsute
Soon his jokes turned sauerkraut through soot
Before long they cried : Heil !
Jackboots clicked, people wail
In goose-step, give : Sieg ! Heil ! salute.

Moral : « Listen not to funny man Dump !
Migrants all know how to scale wall jump.
Ten million there love US
Minus some (who) think like louse !
Live not solipsistic world on rump ! »

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2016

Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2016