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Best Freedom Poems

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New Freedom Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Freedom poems are below this new poems list.

What Is Freedom by Rodocker, Pernell
Freedom Lost by Ebbs, Edward
FREEDOM TOUGH ROAD by curtis futch jr, kurtis scott aka
The Circus of Freedom by Williams, KL
Freedom never cries by Savage, Amanda
Freedom In Your Song by bartholomew, cortney
freedom footles by christian, diane
My Freedom of Recollections by Mast, Reynaldo
When Freedom Calls by Siegel, Steven
Tale of Freedom by Anish, Matthew

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The Best Freedom Poems

Details | Freedom Poem | |

Indian Ink

“Indian Accent”

Hear the whispers inside

Chanting from long ago
Echoes come and go
Losing time in a soft eternal glow

A beautiful and delicate autumn mountain scene
Dry blue eyes enchanting melodies!
Voices falling from the sky
Rising hymns release ancient demons that cling to the soul

The darkness dwells under gentle moonlight
Ancestors of the Spirit World,
Exposing Indian hands that weave native smoke into the air
Their spirits taunting burrows from the muddy Earth
Moccasin makers rise from underneath
Guardians of dream catchers
Smooth thread from the outer edge, bowing heads.
Luminous gems of ivory,
Chasing a florid kiss.

Through the winds of enchanted drums, voices cry out for rain.
The hollow chimes mesmerize  
An ancient rage begins to flare
Stale madness, 
The spears of the perfumed buffalo skin pierced my senses
Removing the veils that cover my eyes
The hands that cover my ears
Washing the scalp that bleeds on my face
They collect tears from memories of the past.

KINDRED IN EVERY WAY!

Raven silk braids, feathers fall from my hair.
Dancing in a horrid hallucination of Peyote,
Waking up from the “American Dream.”
Holding out my arms, I am free, I can fly.

I AM A BIRD!

By; PD

More great poems below...


Details | Freedom Poem | |

Crying River

Crying River (The Untold Ballad) 

Undercover waters of rain dash
Cold children, no smiling splash
Tragic sobs, epic force of the mountain rain
Beautiful as it may seem -shallow basin 
---Dream---

She cries a tune, 
Mocking the Maple lands, a beautiful tune
Crooked Cornwall, she steams with the moon
Oceanic dreams, monsoon season, she swoon's
Frozen, dead, ice skating rink
Her wind, Pretty Chains O Lake 
Wet and Wild, the Elk drinks from her garden
Water falls from the lids of Jordan
Beautiful as it may seem with open curtain

When the ocean succeeds away from the sea
She's wide awake during winter's rain and breeze
Lost in the mud's of Bellaire's heartache,
River Blues, ice cold snap, bayou stirring up
Racing rivers crying by the western gutter
Silent, bells chime in the Black Mallard waters
Streams, blowing and drying dew droplets
Little rapid tears, everything spotless
Sugar, Swan waves down by Devils Creek
Listen to the thunder bay rolling deep
Beautiful as it may seem, she weeps

A northern world with streaks of falling rain
Pretty running white hair pane
A weather vane, snow dangles above her domain 
Beautiful crying winds
In the Eyes of Michigan

~3/5/14~

Details | Freedom Poem | |

Love Is Free


      a puppet dances

   to its own merry tune

    no strings attached

----------------------------
[Inspired by Jan Allison’s 
      poem “Love is Bind”]


Details | Freedom Poem | |

FLYING HIGH - VISUAL 5

Soaring Free as a bird No wings to restrain us Blown gently on salmon pink clouds Heaven! 01~11~15 Contest: An American Beauty – Andrea Dietrich Visual 5: Balloons Checked Using How many Syllables 2,4,6,8,2 ~awarded 4th place~

Details | Freedom Poem | |

Rising Within Your Pages

I take for granted all that I can do
Thinking that what I have has all been earned
Instead I should be so thankful to You

A spirit of pride is one that is learned
I start to believe the things that are said
Thinking that what I have has all been earned

Within my heart I begin to be led
Rising within the pages of Your Word
I start to believe the things that are said

I learn to fly on the wings of a bird
Here is where I learn the ways of Freedom
Rising within the pages of Your Word

I no longer doubt your Kingdom will come
Without your Love I will never know Peace
Here is where I learn the ways of Freedom

Within the Heavens praises never cease
Without Your Love I will never know Peace
I take for granted all that I can do
Instead I should be so thankful to you


Any poem #4 Contest.

Sponsored by Nathan A.

Written March 7th 2014

More great poems below...


Details | Freedom Poem | |

Je suis Charlie

Translation below (in progress)


Celui qui n'a pas de cœur
Ne doit jamais reposer en paix

He who has no heart
Will never rest in peace


J’étais Charlie

De ma tombe
Mon âme pleure encore rouge
L’encre coule encore
Arrosage des fleurs ci-dessus
Les fleurs, fortes et belles
Elles doivent étouffer vos manières diaboliques
J'étais Charlie, je suis Charlie, Charlie toujours
Dans ma tombe
je ris
vous perdez

I was Charlie

In my tomb
my soul still cries red
the ink still flows
Above the flowers grow
the flowers strong and beautiful
they shall choke your evil ways
I was Charlie, I am Charlie, Charlie forever
In my grave
I laugh
You lose




Details | Freedom Poem | |

Buttercups and laughter

She sings in soft tones,
her magic exists beyond the obvious.
Listen closely to her wanting,
She is wrapped in a trancendent light.

A dreamer,
chasing white rabbits.
Grasping for the infinite,
with delicate hands.

A moth, 
Dances within her luminosity.
Flying on yesterday's wings,
carrying smiles that are meant for tommorow.
Witness her as she waits to exhale.

A daisy chain,
tied around her wrist.
A future promise to be kept.
For within her spirit,
exists a burning passion! 
She awaits one who is worthy,
of her consuming flame

Although she is unaware,
hers is a temporary sadness.
Happiness flirts at the edge of her dreaming,
waiting for an open window.
His shadow hidden behind frosted glass.

Shades of green,
turn brilliant yellow!
Buttercups dance around her feet.
Her laughter floats across the meadow.
Happiness runs to her open arms.

Together they skip, to her apple tree.
For hers is a faith that trancends the temple.
Her spirit sought and found salvation.
He had been with her all along,
I can see it in her smile.
The rain has passed and sunshine resides in her eyes!

For Catie Lindsey's contest. 
I hope she sees beyond her shadows to her field of buttercups.

Details | Freedom Poem | |

The Ladybug's Whisper

And the ladybug placed a caressing whisper into dragonfly’s ear,
“I want to fly again. I crave to flap my tiny wings towards sunset’s crux. 
I want to breathe again. I want to be held like winds within canyon’s dialect.”

“But, first, I just need to scream.”

…

Let me be your breeze.

In
One
Fell
Swoop

…

The power to swim!
The power to grin!
The desire to never, ever fall again!

Let us embrace conundrum’s waterfall to be its resolution!
Let us allow joy to be our bedtime lullabies!
Let us let love IN without full moon’s dependency!

Ride on this impeccable jet stream towards animosity’s downfall!

Look in the face of your beautiful enemies
Daring it to stand above pedestal’s fallacy
Let your radiance be their final intimacy!

Take incipient steps,
Upon mended asphalt wishes

Let them tremble at the sight of your beautifully embattled smile
Knowing they will never reciprocate

Where desert winds kneel in our reflections
For we are an oasis
Forged of blood diamonds; sacrificial memories

Breezes become gusts
Gusts become worshipped exhales

All that I am!
All that you are!
All that they hope to be!

Our Yin & Yang
Will release proverbial boomerangs
Breaking vicious circles upon this genesis

We sway above greener pastures.

Gusts become breezes.

One
Fell
Swoop

Breaking enigmatic mirrors to see your true colors
With a scream to paint your new canvas

…

The time is now,
Let your two feet become one.

Rise, my ladybug!
Rise

Say goodbye
To detrimental trials

And caress newfound trust
Within a gentle

S				E
       M		 L
                 I

©Drake J. Eszes

Details | Freedom Poem | |

DANCING ON AIR

Freedom! Sensuously she spreads her wings, Floating in glorious glens Now at one with nature 16th February 2015 Jan Allison Syllables checked with how many syllables Contest In Praise of Kimo – Nette Onclaud ~awarded 6th place~ Visual 1

Details | Freedom Poem | |

Poetry was Her Best Lover- Adult Content

Poetry was her best lover
Like no other
He loved her
Without restraint
She could be herself
And explore
And discover
Secret pleasures and fantasies
Naked above the covers
He let her lie
Exposed
As he slowly caressed her imagination
Making her flow
With the sweet essence of her soul
In waves of delirium
Flying free
He let her be
Unfettered
Unashamed
Unworried of how to please
Or how to tease
Just simply to be
A woman in a prelude
To ecstacy

Poetry was her best lover
Her escape from reality
In clandestine intimacy
He ravished her mind
Again and again
For all he wanted
Was for her to come
To experience
To taste
Every pleasure
He had to offer
Her insatiable appetite
He fed
With firm truths
That burst forth with wisdom
He fed her desire
To reach supremacy
He never betrayed
Or delayed
In pleasing her
In giving her just what she wanted
In different ways and forms
His creativity endless

Poetry was her best lover
The only time in her day
When she had her way
And could be free
To be the woman she was mean to be
Sensual and sultry, sexy and savory 
Not having to hide
Behind the guise
The veil of culture
Or religion
Or misconstrued sexism
Or alibis
Being demure
And “sterile”
When she was fertile
Laden with passion


Poetry was her best lover
He adored her
For whom she was
And he gave and gave 
At times
Leading her in submission to his will
Taming her
Training her
To live in the confines
Of his rules
For perfection to be reached
She had to follow his lead
To the pinnacle of pleasure
Where all was in rhythmic union and rhyme
The sublime
Tasted and lived and then to descend
To warm after glow
Basking in the satisfaction
Of a fruitful union
For beauty has been conceived 
Waiting for delivery

Yes, Poetry was her best lover
And she
Came looking for him
Begging him 
To take her 
Again and again and again
To transport her to heaven from hell
Tasting eternity

Poetry was her best lover
And she
Had no need of another
To help her discover
Her own entity….
None other
But her best lover
Poetry....


Eileen Manassian Ghali

Details | Freedom Poem | |

Freedom

In solitude I dream tonight
And watch a moth in fevered flight.

It’s drawn toward my quaint porch light
And flies consumed with all its might.

Through open window I can see
Its desperation shared with me;

How freedom in this world is light—
And we as souls are drawn to fight.

Though freedom’s light may cause our death,
It’s worth the risk with every breath.

I understand the moth’s sad plight
When drawn to the glorious light.

Though it knows not of human trust,
It buzzes on because it must!




Details | Freedom Poem | |

Broken Wings

As the sun arose in the eastern skies 
a fairy princess sits rubbing her eyes.
Yawning she glimpses her magical isle 
and her tiny lips, curl into a smile.

Standing she stretches in her treetop bed,
anxious anticipates what lies ahead.
She flutters her wings to get them ready,
raising one knee, she jumps slow and steady.

Hovering like, a hummingbird she glides
then races off with both arms at her sides.
With lots to see her day has just begun,
she never stops until the setting sun.

Racing through the forest over fields of wheat
smelling the flowers, is her daily treat.
Talks to the butterflies this sunny morn,
tests the fresh honey and tastes some sweet corn.

Spotting a pond sparkling like a mirror 
zooms back and forth each time getting nearer,
watching her reflection, no time to think
crashed in a deer who had just stopped to drink.

Later discovers she’s broken her wings,
Lies in bed knowing what carelessness brings.
Six months of bed rest was taking their toll,
this fairy princess was losing her soul.

Finally the day came to test her wings
her will is determined her heart now sings,
shouts out with joy as she reaches the sky,
nothing feels greater, than when you can fly.

Iambic Pentameter 
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
01.14.2015
Contest: Sketch a Fictitious Character II

Details | Freedom Poem | |

Tibetan Tears

My heart aches for
Your hearts that break. 
I shed tears mingling with 
Yours for the forgotten years;
The tortured monks and nuns…
For your people who suffer still
With no voice to teach
Your hopeless, hungry, young.
Only your elder's tears
Know of the deep sorrow
Of your lost lives, lost culture,
Your sacred Buddhist beliefs,
Your divine history that
Continues to be destroyed.
Even as your dead fall
You do not hate…
You only wish to liberate
Those loving souls who
Remain as strangers in their
Own beloved land.
Let me be your voice
To join with other voices that
Will help you attain freedom.


Details | Freedom Poem | |

Liberty of the Press


Broken pencils-

                 but not broken spirits




Details | Freedom Poem | |

TOLERANCE

                         TOLERANCE

I have little tolerance for tolerant people.
Those that will endure the corruption of
the truth, the erosion of meaning.  While at
the same time being intolerant of your
opinions, thoughts, and level of tolerance.

There is a quote attributed to Voltaire:
“I disapprove of what you say, but I will
defend to the death your right to say it.”

How many of the “tolerant” would be willing
to fight for our right to “disapprove of what
they say”?  Hush the crowd so that we might
be heard?  Unblock their ears and hearts and listen?

Does the present day “tolerance”
lack tolerance, lack understanding,
lack the ability to endure a voice that
is not in tune, does not sing the same 
song, does not pray the same prayer?

Or do they tolerate, put up with, the “fool”,
while denying acceptance of his opinions,
his beliefs.  Perhaps the fool is more tolerant than they.
Listening to what they say, watching how they
carry themselves, interact with those “different”
than themselves.

For they think him a “fool”, because they do
not know that he thinks, what he thinks,
and most sadly, they do not care to know.
They will tolerate his presence but not allow
him to be present, listen to his voice yet hear
nothing, speak of equality while lauding their
position, education, power over him.

For they are tolerant only of themselves,
of their ideas, their thoughts, their peers,
their alleged - equals.

They disapprove of us, and what we say,
and will defend their right to keep it so.

John G. Lawless – 6/9/2014 

Details | Freedom Poem | |

Let Me Go

You have caged me for too long
I want you to just let me go,
I have to spread these feathered wings
I need to feel the wind's blow.

You know that I love you truly
I said that I would never leave,
I want to see the rain's dance
Not just sit here and perceive.

The scene never changes, day after day
I want to go where white roses bloom,
I have never seen an ocean's wave
And neither have you, I assume.

I need to see the autumn tree's change
I want to see the snowflake's glisten,
I am wishing on the stars as they fall
This is my dream, so please just listen.

I want to fly in the sky's blue
I need to feel the sun's burn,
When I have experienced these wonders
I promise that I will return.




Details | Freedom Poem | |

Freedom

This place inside where all my feelings keep.
That lies somewhere between my heart and soul.
Should I, the guardian of my fortress seek,
Protection from those, who would see them stole.
So many times have you this bastion breeched,
With scant regard for all the dangers posed.
That my hopes and dreams should not be reached,
By eyes that only wish my heart exposed.
These inmates with their liberty restrained.
That strive against their shackles and their chains.
Am I their jailor too cautious to be blamed,
To free them no matter what their claims.
And if freeing them should reveal my heart,
I might be also freed.. my life to start

Details | Freedom Poem | |

Black Diamond

On the border of the obscure wastelands, In the depths of shadows and torments, Far beyond the land of Never Was, Never Will Is a place where I hold you, strong and silent… As the shards of your sensitive sadness prevail, Sifting the awaiting coals below, I shall reflect slivers of your light upon the darkest woe! I fight with the broken alliance within the dimmest coves, I mean to pull you into Death’s demise Where the pained poets prevail and the suns of justice arise So that e’en the coldest of coals reach warmth! Generating power so strong, that the gods step aside As these diamonds-to-be burst into the light of day Revealing your words of Always Was… and Always Will The Black Diamond, once captive…finally free…though coal black still!
For Shadow Hamilton's Contest: Fighting Depression(poems for PD) 12/7/14

Details | Freedom Poem | |

How much do I love thee

How much do I love thee
Let me tabulate all the ways

I bought you a new Mercedes
	With gold plated tire rims
I bought you a humongous diamond ring
	The size fit for all Royals and King
I bought you a store of the finest lingerie
	Secrets still held at the door by decree
I bought you a garden of roses so red
	My love was surely in bloom, or so they all said
I bought you a ticket to heavens pearly gates
	So that in paradise you’d have not to even wait
I bought you your very own private Lear jet
	To see the world through champagne eyes
My love was a vault and you emptied it dry
	My heart has now learned to never cry

How much do you love me?
Your lawyer seems to know

You claimed mental duress
	Suffering under such stress
The Mercedes was the wrong color so I am told	
	I should have known, pink, not gold
The diamond ring was too heavy to wear
	Your back injuries caused you painful despair
The lingerie didn’t cover you just right
	So medical ailments kept you up many a nights
The roses in bloom where not the right flower
	Your allergies they caused, thus making you sour
The ticket to heaven you plain out refused
	Said it was one way, and that just wouldn’t do!
You had no issues riding my Lear jet 
	You rode the pilot as well, a mile high kinda bet
My love you tossed into the bin out in back
	The divorce lawyer smiles at me, saying she sure is great in the sack 

The moral of the Story is this!
If you are sitting at the table, and
You see a few beetles scurrying about
Maybe even whistling a tune or two
Listen carefully to what they say

Details | Freedom Poem | |

Poppies Red

November 11th is Remembrance Day in Canada 
(Veterans Day)
When I was in grade 7 or 8 (I don't exactly remember) we had 
 to write poetry for a Remembrance Day contest. I won and had to read this in front of our whole grammar school. I must of been 12 or 13. This was my first real poem!
I dedicate this here today to all the soldiers who fight or have fought for our rights and freedom.


In Flanders Field with poppies red,
there lies the secret of the dead.
Those blood coloured poppies
so red and so gay,
bring the whispering sound
of Remembrance Day.

Those true earnest men
who fought for their land,
now lay beneath the musky cool sand.

Alert and ready at dangers call,
prepared to fight they would not stall,
but march right on,
now some there lay,
In Flanders Field,
with poppies gay.


Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
1970

Details | Freedom Poem | |

Rules and Regulations

How long did it take her to be free?

How long did it take
For the wingless dragonfly to finally open her heart to the world

How long did it take for her to overcome Devil’s workshop
Slowly caressing her retinas
With silky daffodils and two-faced tulips

Where
Now
She dives into a glistening pool of complicated risk
Opening her atrium to the masses

Shedding incumbent teardrops
Just for that one standing ovation
To SET
HER
FREE!

It was then
Where pieces of plastic chains fell from demure stratosphere

Dented taps, similar to a shoeless dancer,
Setting off bass tones and low-key monotony

For she was
One cholesterol filled syllable short
To be genuine

One tearful, hyphenated lyric
Too blunt
To be embraced by their “god”

One dilapidated vowel shy
Of being honest

Her diary didn’t have enough pages torn
From emerald sanity

There were too many “Wows”,
Diluting into disingenuous shoulder pats

Her stanza pushed aside

A glorified booty call with no call back number
Leaving messages towards empty dial tones

…

How long will it take her to be free?

Until she looks up
Knowing she already holds the key

©Drake J. Eszes

Details | Freedom Poem | |

A Butterfly Inside --The Butterfly Flutters By

I feel a butterfly inside;
Its wings are cramped within my breast.
The weight of flesh, o dull cocoon,
Prohibits my free flight. At best
I only soar inside; my wings--
Gossamer, light, remain untried.
I wait...I wait...until the day
The barred' cage is flung aside
And airy wings lift toward the skies.

I have felt this graceful creature 
Flutter faintly deep inside;
Then, at times, so ardently,
I think no way will it abide!
It will be loosed! Its wish to fly
Will push the bars of flesh aside.
Determined is this butterfly 
To show its colors multiplied
And wing its way through azure skies.

The time is drawing near, I'm sure;
The throbbing swells within my heart.
The cumbrous cocoon, filled with life,
Is bursting now, falling apart.
The butterfly is breaking free;
No more its wings will tightly furl,
But lightly spread upon the breeze 
Their filmy webs, gilded and pearled...
The butterfly flutters by the world...

Details | Freedom Poem | |

A Little Piece of Paradise

A Little Piece of Paradise
An Eden-like orangery, her secret place for refreshing reverie, a haven, from an abusive marriage, where her body and mind are free. Away from a domineering, intrusive household, her own favorite hideaway – a refuge from her unhappy world. Here she is serene enjoying peace and blessed tranquility, nestled in the nurturing bosom of this fertile orangery. Contentedly she inhales the sweet fragrance of orange trees in bloom, that permeates to every corner of this sunlit, warm welcoming room. An enticing delight, time spent alone here is her singular vice, as she lingers in the safety of this little piece of paradise.
Re-reading familiar poetic verses from a well-worn book, she experiences sheer bliss sitting in this hospitable nook. What joy communing with riveting Romantic poets, like beloved Brontë, Browning, Rossetti, and Eliot. Reveling in her sacred solitude, she relishes their consoling company, amid thriving exotic orchids and other delicate tropical greenery. Nothing compares to the immeasurable pleasure she derives, from this brief respite with which her spirit renews and revives. Before returning to a hard-hearted husband who is as cold as ice, she clings a while longer to this precious piece of paradise.
Entered in contest sponsored by Isaiah Zerbst (7-18-2014)

Details | Freedom Poem | |

THE SHOWERING LOTUS

Endearing the gods of enlightenment, dip tenderly into the rainbows
Color band of intrinsic light, softly breathing, as the hushed breath of
A morning doves first coo of life, the lotus flower does blossom and bloom.
Infusions delicate creation floating in the still pond of the everlasting,
Drifting, swaying at the mercy of life's strife, yet in harmonious peace
Its beauty remains perfections timeless jewel, sparkling beneath the mid-eastern
Sun.
Bending does the reddest rose, yielding it's petals to the keepsakes heart
Most sacred inner place, a whirl winds tidal storm of emotions contemplation
Point of origin, it bleeds with a crimson preciousness,
Tangled are the vines woven to and fro, but rich is the human soul.
Floating, cascading cherry blossom's dance, amongst the winds of
Destiny's air, ever gently whispering of loves softness, comforting warmth
Within the arms of lovers devotional vows.
These are the delicate tokens of the for-get-me-knots, showering of the
Lotus, a blending emergence, behold the feminine
Oh let the captive sparrow sing so softly the notes of spring, let her soar
Amongst the eternal skies of white clouds beneath liberation's whitest
Wings of grace.
Upwards, lifted upwards to touch and caress the distant sun above,
Little bird spread your delicate appendages, lie thy offering of the lotus
Leaf before the divine, and may it appease the God's, from which it draws
Life itself from be thy finest gift ever sacrificed,
Tender are their tears are shed, for she the sparrow of mortality.
Exhalted amongst the stars in the very heavens on high,
A beauty figure thus stands, poring the water of life into the deep
Rivers of the universe, and behind her ear lies a lotus blossom.
That blooms eternal.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN


Details | Freedom Poem | |

Reaching Out


Through thickening haze, I hear your voice call my name, encouraging me, words beating with my heart, guiding me home as I stumble and crawl… lost in a winding maze, blinded by a smokescreen haze. My life falls off-course; a sudden struggle, I am suffocated by my own thoughts, by perfectly manicured hedges, by a world of betrayal…a world of deceit. Yet, I live every moment with hope – I see filtered rays of light, feel their warmth on my skin, a reminder of Heaven when I shiver within. As I climb my leafy-green, prison walls, my courage creates new heightened paths. Like English Ivy weaving through a garden lattice, I grow taller, plan my escape, hear your unwavering voice drape over me with love and strength… Your hand, outstretched, seems just within my reach. I focus on a life without walls, a place I can learn and teach, an open field of tomorrows… vibrant, full, free. Every singular cell, every breath I draw, every soulful feeling…all of me, with all of my flaws, reaches out to all of you. With a touch, I am saved… I am found. A new dawn breaks just within my reach.