These Political Sun poems are examples of Sun poems about Political. These are the best examples of Political Sun poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
THE sun superbly smiles in the world
The faces of the people become impeccably bright
And the birds brood, sing softly enraptured,
Wet green grass glean with dew light,
Various flowers loutishly bloom bright and fresh
And the dull, dark night stars disappear,
A breeze cuts through the world without brash,
Hearts of people beat lightly the rhythm they endear
And their souls unburdened duly of dubious oppression,
Their formerly bowed backs now straitening,
Some jubilant wiping the sweat of emancipation
From their victorious visages, now blatantly beaming;
And the mountains seem to recede down to plains,
The burly, bullish bushes let sun rays penetrate,
The rivers flow on sun shined land, colorlessly sedate,
Seas now smell of edible, huge fish’
And thence, the long eagerly awaited tuneful liberation
Emerges from the sun-coated east horizon goldfish
Spreading luxuriantly to the west with expectation
I grew up in a place I didn't want to be
Became someone that i knew i didn't want to be
Society grabbing me by the throat telling me to be me
But who are they to say that I should be what is not me?
Catastrophe shaking this world, leaving fault lines at the finish line
Scarred for what we have to look forward to
You can't put your soul on hold for all your past pretensions
Earthquakes changing the course of continuation
Throwing vibes from left and right
Hitting the pedal to ignite
What imperial dilemmas that arise from such despise
From what i know i'm just another reflection of disguise, who am i?
Those that float around with no worries in the world,
Don't care about the money, all they've got is what's gold
The people who kill, for power and respect
Dont realize what is out there is what's in the next step
And it's all in their head
We've got all of eternity
The tower of destruction that'll set us all free
Cause in the end we always find that there's another place to be;
physically or mentally.
People walking around with frowns carved into their faces
I wonder if theyll ever look up and see that they've been going places
Giving up falling down through the cracks of the ground
They're at fault for all loss that was among their own soul
Oh, its a cold world
As it slowly turns, im watching the clock tick as i feel the room burn
And its funny, that people try to play the game of constant manipulation,
Thinking they were born alive, but really,
They were only born to die.
No not everyone lives under the sun these days
A lot of those that fear thy own will fall pale in the shade
Under a dead willow
How we all want the sun because it's here for a reason
We all expect it to invest in the seasons
The government work of treason,
Throwing ropes to pull it down
Making this place so much hotter than it was when underground
I can't stand to be bothered by the burn that it's put on my wrist
From slamming this door shut, we've got to put an end to this
We're destroying what's inside ourselves cause of things on all the shelves
Yet he destroys, and he breaks, so we build
They take the money, and we run it while they kill
Although it's kinda funny that the state depends on pills,
I'll hold the sun and run away from all that's real.
Strolling down the street hand on my gat,
with the sun at my back ready to attack.
Slow to the fight quick to react,
always marching forward never looking back.
10 months in the desert not a drop of rain,
only thing I've sen is suffering and pain.
The weight of my gear is difficult to maintain,
to end my own life I try to refrain.
Another pointless battle in an unknown frontier,
never making it home my only fear.
Another explosion in the distance all I hear,
as I push forward hoping the end is near.
Watching the sun set I sit there and pray,
that I will make it through yet another day.
All of a sudden I see a white light and hear loud bangs,
4 more friends died with the blast of that grenade.
Will I make it home I do not know,
for in my countries arms lies my soul.
My blood, sweat, and tears are my toll,
and the hope of going home is all I know.
Brittannia ruled the waves,they said
My old school atlas,dotted red;
Cricket its multi-national game
Pageantry & fair-play its claim to fame;
Governed by the privileged few
English,said & written its glue.
AN EMPIRE ON WHICH THE SUN NEVER SETS !
Now six decades further on
Its colonial power foever gone;
A damp offshore Atlantic island
Sinking slowly,in PC quick-sand;
Multi-cultures of its past,now abound
Each language of its Empire,here is found.
AN ISLE ON WHICH THE SUN LESS OFTEN GETS !