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Ode Freedom Poems | Ode Poems About Freedom

These Ode Freedom poems are examples of Ode poems about Freedom. These are the best examples of Ode Freedom poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Ode |

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

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ode |

one race

The firmament above, beneath we exist,
This diversity in divine artistry
Same eyes divers sizes
Different skin same sin
Different color same honor
Same human same humor
Why try to sort out maize from corn? They are all same
Cus just one shot, your race wont spare you

Copyright © victor nwakanma | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode |

Ode to Tai-Ana at Age Ten and Far Away


Oh, gentle child, how doth my heart still burn
thine absence half a decade spent in vain
to break the bonds that tie, that fett’ring chain
that holds me from embracing  thee, thyself  in turn.

Thine all enchanting smile, piercing eyes–
thy flailing arms, the limbs, with rhythmic stroke – 
responses soundless to the silent words I spoke
to thee before from thee Fate forced me from thy cries.

I watched thee grow through temp’rate times of yore – 
remembering the gall’ry of my mind.

‘Twas all I had.

Oh, gentle child, how doth my heart still ache
thy presence all too far in distant land
where careless arms push thee with calloused hand
away from mine where once I swore thee none could take.

Thine eyes with tears I shared I shed alone
so thou might never feel the agony
the anguish, loss of my identity,
thy father, thee my offspring, daughter, dearest one.

I watched thee grow through chilling times, and more – 
remembering thy portrait in my mind.

‘Twas all I had.

.			3

Oh, gentle child, how doth my soul yet yearn
those many hours oft upon my breast
thy head thou laid safe harbor for thy rest,
thy questions,  mind alert, thy hungering to learn.

Thy voice I hear through dreams and zephyr breeze,
thou lark by morn by eve the nightingale,
as Dawn and Dusk, Aurora without fail,
thou hast my heart and soul kept warm with ease.

I watch thee grow, and will,  forever more – 
remembering thy sculpture in my mind.

‘Tis all I have.


Until we are as one renewed
some future date somewhere awaits
when thou her servant dare to flee 
that which with thee so long accrued
where here I love and there she hates
that wily witch who bindeth thee. 

Break loose those  prison bars that bind
thy tired wings that flap in vain – 
Renew thy pledge at length to find
thy youthful freedom once again.
Then shalt thy flags fly high aloft
while eagles scream thy freedom song,
while robins chirp with redbreast, soft – 
all a capella – pure and long.

Then both our souls shall share their peace,
a father and his daughter, found
to spend their lives on borrowed lease
to live and die on hallowed ground.

Thus, take, Tai-Ana, this, my prayer
that fathers and their children hear
of this solemnity
that children here and everywhere
ne’er shed a sad though soulful tear
for all eternity.


Copyright © Lorenz Lynn | Year Posted 2007

Details | Ode |

Ode To Fireworks

It is such great unity
That appears amongst the beauty
Of the bright light display?
Such colour, such energy within celebration,
Such a vivid canvas of man-made creation
That sparks with flair and passion;
To fall into the fog
Like all dying illusions.

Yet it is what it does for us:
Where we are drawn from our furnishings
That we clean in intervals,
Closing outside to a regular schedule,
Remaining well lit and sheltered
Resting our minds so dimly upon the
Soft and empty cushions
And hugging at the blind comfort
Of cover.

We are drawn from this facade
By another in itself.
Which brings us out like a beacon
Part Devil, half Eden
To then fade away
Like all illusions,
Leaving us quiet,
Revealing deepened images.
Exposed to chill
Peace climbs through our bones.

Let us stand together,
The great power that connects us;
The great unity
Amongst such beauty.

Till we once more return home…

Copyright © Aiden Asoll | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode |

Ode to Candy

                  Oh Candy, 
      How you make me feel alive, 
    We have a love hate relationship
                  You and I,
           Sugar highs speak to me,
          Sugar crashes damage me.
             A danger zone you are, 
               But I can't resist
   Oh candy, you make me feel alive!

Copyright © Kate McMurtry | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ode |

Freedoms light

Something that chains link
Turning tricks in my mind 
pain and hurt crushing 
draws out one vision starlight
searching for freedom aches bend down

I carry happiness warmly knowing the truth
joy enters knowing in the end justice 
you will speak with thundering roars
to Heaven cursed by a damned lie 
while sitting in the fork 

I pray for soul protection 
Within my trials as wisdom and truth draw perfect 
one picture stares from behind the curtains 
smiling one vision this world 

Never will it break me 
As I am whole again 
each morning awakening 
to hear the birds sing 
in sweet praise a lark song 

Into the dawning daybreak 
an ocean wave turns as the seagull cries
from deep caverns winding up
Echoing of chambered walls explode

Sands of my soul salted chanting free 
with wings attached victory truth sparkling 
wounded in diamond light 
cold crystal clear reality  
waterfalls over darkness 

Realities envelopes opening lids 
christening a mere shadow of the past 
my future is ahead of me 
so I embrace love 
with open arms one dream 
wrapped up inside a gift 
from above banishing shades of night

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode |

The Ocean

My heart sleeps by the Ocean.. Give me beach therapy please..
When all this world's troubles come upon me.. just let me dip my feet in the sea..
I don't ask for much just a little sand between my toes 
Enough to make this ole girl go ooohhh lala and away she goes.. 
When it's time for me to return back to reality.. 
I'll just stay here a little longer living in Peace you see.. 
Because the sand, the waves, the pure blue, green water is where I long to be.. 
Nothing can take place of living at the beach in splendid harmony..
Walking with Jesus is where I'll be living in serenity.. 
Talking to him about all the things I see.. 
Just pouring out my heart to him makes me feel free.. 
I want look back at all the things I left behind
because they want matter to me this time..
I'm on the beach you see where life is happy as can be..
Just to feel the wind upon my face as those waves come in it makes my heart race.. 
Ahh the feeling is so grand all the stress of life there's not a strand.. 
Ohh my see that beach over there that's it that's the place God gave to me, 
My my look at it glow.. More beautiful than a diamond in a bridal show.. 
I found my home where I belong.. 
Now I can finally sing my greatest song..

Copyright © Rose Stephens | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode |

the Earth

 You are still keeping heavy arms,
 You did not stop explosive devastations,
 The Earth is clamings trials – not once,
 Have troubled vital forces for whole nature,

 United Nations orders been ignored,
 Intrudes feeling free for invasions,
 Increasing wars revising what agreed,
 Incoming time inclining independence,

 Indifference for all asleep,
 Discourage poll possessions intentions,
 Remaining backwards countrys in need, 
 Would left among nations in faceless,

 Despite foggy announcements on stand, 
 Among the stars would shine the planet, 
 Don’t leave your children on the sand,
 And face cold judgments for a wild,

 Pretending for the future bright,
 Its hard to watch hearts children crying,
 Forgiveness doesn’t have a chance,
 Missed way to all the human kind

Copyright © Serge Belinsky | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode |

The sound of democracy falling

What was that sound? 
Who was that man in the funeral shroud? 
Who walked behind the man at the head of the crowd?

Amandla! The man’s fist was raised
Whilst the world showered him with praise

But he has passed now and he is gone
And the silence of his grave
Speaks to no-one. 

His shadow no longer lines the ground
And no trace of his legacy can be found…

A long road to freedom, a long road indeed
At the end of the road, only malice and greed.

Does no-one see, and no-one understand
That the freedom that was sought
By the blood of the distraught
Has come to this, to naught!
As only anarchy was bought…

What was that sound?
Liberation bells? 
As the father shouts and the infant yells? 

What was that sound? 
Was it a widow, crying for loss?
As her husband’s blood
Was traded for dross? 
What was that sound? 

Copyright © Daniel Human | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode |

Not to do what you should

There  was a day when hollow teeth and streams,
  The marrow, blood and trains of thought,
	Of night black dreams,
   Ran their course and floods did wrought,
      And changed the shores of all that seems.
         Nothing will be as it was just before,
	  The vision has spoken,
	        One small token,
Of a future fill’d with crooked faces to the core.

	The moment’s now to know,
	The summer’s bizarre snow,
	     For it will always be,
	Like it never was ever not.
	There is no way to feel sorry,
     Fate’s folding hands has always caught,
        The visions men find in their nets,
         And women standing by who stare.
On what have they possibly staked their bets?

    Now to be for sure the dream continued,
	To arouse small town vows,
              And erase semantic hows, 
    By tracing the origins of all that is rude
	To the holy water of saints
And those who believe in chromosome paints.
    The light was parted to let in the crude,
	    Let this truth be shown,
	      And forever known,
There can be nothing wrong when the rude,
		Sing their song
       Wave their arms with strange attitude
	          Spill their milk,
	           Sit on tables,
	         Dine in stables,
	They belong with their ilk
Don’t touch these families with your wooden mood!

	      The dream abated,
      Grammar’s laws took to drum again
           The awful games you hated
   Once more began to make their stain.
	Whosoever chooses to inhale 
	   Not the air but the clouds
   Must always run from mobs and crowds.
	  And make their own fairy tale.

One can not cook warmth from passover wood,
	Nor, should you ever forget,
     Make love by doing what you should.

Copyright © Yorn Called | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet |

My Ode to the Netherlands

My Ode to the Netherlands
White water lilies picked for Verlena in Friesland. The Dutch Republic is over a century old. We are there during autumn. Flowers are everywhere. The sunflower fields The sunbeams Yellow and brown profound the canvas To visit the Domtower is a climb. Utrecht is a trek. An ode comes to mind… Dutch greetings we say… Dutch greetings we say, in the land of Friesland today. Welcome all! Our home is our joy. We are logical people and not emotional. We are expressive in our thoughts. Call us opinionates, if you want. Dutch greetings we say to all! ________________________________________________________/
Sponsor: Elly Wouterse Contest Name: Your ode to 'my' Netherlands and/or 'my' Friesland Date of Entry: March 29, 2014 Date Written: March 29, 2014 ~Elly, happy birthday... This is two forms in one poem. The couplet and the irregular ode. Best wishes and hopefully, this is not to much.~:)s

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ode |

What They've Done To Gary

What they've done to Gary is just plain scary. Global elites shut him up.Of their wicked ways, be wary.                                                                                                                       It is all in all,everything that they do,to try and scare me, to try and scare you.                     If they get their way,we'll all be shakin' in our shoes. If they can make us fear enough,they think they'll never lose.                                                                                                                                           For fear is their currency of delight,presses working over-time, ever in the night. Where their dark secrets lurk,hiding from the light.                                                                      With it they purchase hearts and minds, ultimately souls as their grand prize, To offer up to lucifer, in a scheme of grand demise.                                                                                                                                                        So take heart my friend and fear naught,but the Lord. This is wisdom's beginning, God's word, shield and sword.                                                                                                        Of this one thing be ever so aware, that those who hold God's spirit, they can not scare or make them slaves to the prince of the power of the air.                                                                                                                                              We, who stand with Gary, will remain strong and bold. Always doing what is right, not necessarily what we are told.                                                                                                 It is our one path to victory and bringing freedom home.                                                                                                                                                   Home, where our love dwells. Home. Dear, sweet home.

Copyright © John Carrier | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

An Ode to LIFE Part 1

An Ode To LIFE

As I lay my head down and start to fall asleep I see myself being carried off to a place and time the place of our Lords birth in Bethlehem of Judea

As in the Bible tells the story of His life and how he lived and died in that human seance and rose on the day He told of

I do not remember being here but I remember the story I was taught so many years ago

As I walk through the streets of Bethlehem I see each scene  and hear  every word as I am learning the story they telling is true

The writer writes of a jealous King  and his way of dealing with his people and of Mary and Joseph who came to Bethlehem to have a child

The story tells of the three wise men  who saw a star in the north and heard of a child  who was born to be the King of the Jews  and come to see and bring Him gifts 

An  angel from the Heavens above came to Mary and Joseph in a dream and told them they had to leave Bethlehem or King Herod would have their son killed 

So they left Bethlehem and went to Egypt and there they lived until King Herod no longer ruled

As I follow along in my dream I see each scene  and hear  every word as I am puzzled by the fact I understand each

I don’t understand why I’m going through this time but I know I must continue on this journey 

As I am pulling through a time where I reach the place of Jesus’ in  Nazareth of Galilee

As I watched Him grow and work in His father's shop I could see the thing in Him that were with me

As I walk along the streets and look around I hear the people talk of a child that speaks of wondrous love that’s all forgiving and of a Father in Heaven that’s loving and true.

By Rev. Samuel Mack, OMS
Copyright 2013

                                                            Inspired by God 


Copyright © Rev. Dr. Samuel Mack OMS DD | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode |


I have come to a city that is an island;
Though waters are not the boundaries, you understand.
It is an oasis in the midst of bondage for those who are free.
And, I know it must be some intense form of sheer hell for those who 
from the other side can see.

I saw a little sparrow transgress the huge, solid barrier that divides this city.
I could not help but think that the sparrow comes and goes as freely as the winds –
But the people could not; what a pity!
Well, people are not sparrows and sparrows cannot be people – but what if they could be!
Then, a wonderful thought entered my mind; those who wanted freedom could just fly here, you see.

Well, that’s just a fantasy and that barrier is cold hard reality.
It is a very sickening and sad monument to humanity.
I can, at best, only speculate how it must feel to be totally controlled; 
Unable to go where you want to go, be what you want you be, or just to do
the things you like to do; but only to do as you are told!
What form of insanity created this graffiti-riddled barrier they call the “WALL?”
Someone must know and someone must stop it before it destroys us all!
Because, I know this form of insanity must still be with us today;
And, I believe it will only depart us when that ugly wall is torn away.

Then, all the peoples of Berlins would be free;
Just like that little sparrow I did see.

Copyright © JOHN E STOKES | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode |

Ode to Andre P Brink

And so we slip into summer’s season
With questions that does not fit the reason
And as we talk in deepening dusk
An elephant dies with a broken tusk
A great shadow by cloud eclipsed
A man who with a brilliant twist
Could weave the words that changed my heart
Of living together not dying apart
Rumours of rain in a dry white season
You answered my questions that gave me reason
To turn my back on my own brotherhood
To turn towards a future that’s good
Andre P Brink you will live on
As my children’s faces have smiles upon
The freedom you saw and wrote about
So Andre, in honour your name I shout!
You unsung hero of liberation’s fight
As you walk away into that dark night.

Copyright © Daniel Human | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode |


" Hail to courageous Patrick! "
The Christian Irish loudly sang,
taking their chant to all Ireland...
and that made Milchu very sick!

In his veins ran pure blood of Roman nobility;
at that brutal era, Druidism was Ireland's religion,
and he, the follower of Christ, felt much contention...
but armed with determination Patrick fought it fiercely!  

" Hail to courageous Patrick!"
As a saint he never accepted defeat;
he was bread and water for the weak...
endless fear for the High Priest!

" Pagans, you shall not worship neither the Sun
nor idols, Christ is your true Lord! "
He preached in all villages ignoring any frown
from that warrior waving his sword!

Would he had never been captured
and sold into slavery, all Ireland wouldn't have known liberty;
his task was to tend sheep as David,
but choose to give his entire soul to God to wipe out idolatry!  

" Hail to courageous Patrick! "
Every man, woman and child shouted without being afraid;
they knew that God had sent this holy and kind man to them
to teach prayers of fervent faith!

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode |


O England,this aged poet cries yes for you..
Arisen to stand tall and once again
Independent by a democratic  people's call

Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ode |

YAK ing Signa And Art Associates

Yak is everywhere
Not cursing or rude in the ends  
Yak is a street artist
Yak:first of all you have excellence and simplicity in Logo
You make me smile
Your work is constant and consistent 
You frenetically protests against
agreeing or not 
those three letters always make me glad 
Closed to You certainly are pal artists
But the genius in Yak her/his/'s simplicity 
is not bout agreeing  


Yak might be a scream demanding me/we are artists of Democracy if hired the worked will be paid in the amount of Talent 
Yak is
An enormous label name
Imagine: Yak clothes, Street, Casual, non-casual, jewels, watches
Yak concept

Yak 'Concepteur'
Yak unlimited supply 
Yak boundaries are all crossed 
the next step
We Deserve Yak
I was thinking about making a T-shirt with,
But that's not fare some are my fights but the label is not mine
Yak deserve recognition beyond
I wonder sometimes about the identity of Yak or Yak's
I see ex-students on Yak
I see colleagues on Yak
I show Yak around
Some like some dislike 

People that are to consensual are not generally in my favourites list
And that's a reason for Democracy major virtues and severe imperfections 
And in dictatorship even the camouflaged kind Yak is needed 
Yak is probably not Bunksy 
Yak for me create a trend  
The sign of Thor's hammer *
Simple 1Y 2a 3k 
The sympathetic logo makes people smile
At least for a single time You, 
and also You and You 
You all have smiled about the word,
You in some way are protest signatories 
But look at the Logo 

Gud signi teg 

Thank You!
* Etymology 2 Old Norse signa a) Wiktyonary 

Copyright © PEDROS FERNANDES | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Ode to Beer

The first drop – an instantaneous plunge
Into another world,
blushing, warm, and welcome

Dazed and daydreaming,
My taste buds singing,
My palette bathed in smooth softness,

My soul turns bright and whole,
Full dark with barley juice,
And happy Irish cream,

And as I raise my glass to Bacchus,
and curse the sober world,
So gray and plain and dead,

I hug and cling to chaos,
So colorful and free,
And dance and dream like pagans do,
Until the music dies.

Copyright © Nick Ruff | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ode |

Music Fuels Me

Your stirring within me seeks liberty,
instruments of your release, versatile:
the human voice, guitar strings, piano…
orchestra or jazz band.

Accompanied by long hours of practice
your company, is strangely addictive; 
No matter how I try to set you free,  
you're there in my heartland.

O, fuel of my soul's best expression,
you energize my mind and emotions.
Moving me to tears, moving me to praise,
how? I cannot understand.

edited, April 5, 2017

Copyright © Reason A. Poteet | Year Posted 2017

Details | Ode |

Immortal - A Tribute to the life and voice of Dr Maya Angelou - Part II

Part II  of  The Poem, Immortal, A tribute to Dr. Maya Angelou, is posted below:

... continued...

And her voice passed through me, and kissed me with a trace of grace…
And then… the voice of Maya echoed once more… again:
“I have others to see Now… you have somewhere to be Now:
An appointment with your life, so precious and rare, awaits.
Make haste, my child, make haste.”

And I ran after her voice, out onto my doorstep…
To behold the night heavens so wide and awake…
Aglow with their newest host - I stood and watched her circumnavigate,
All of the spheres that the toil of her years - and her joy - had built there.
And I could feel her voice in the gentle wind blowing…

The voice of Maya, saying to me… saying to you…
“You, child, You… oh Yes, child -Yes… Now, child - NOW”.

And NOW… she is Immortal.

Copyright © Kenneth Kirkpatrick | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse |



We are the State that shines.
We are unity others desire.
We stand for peace and strength.
Our seal is represented.

Our families are our friends.
Our glory is justice to all humanity.
Our focus is to overcome any gap.
We stand for peace and harmony.

Mississippi, accordance we have.
Mississippi, we represent well.
Mississippi, you are true.
Mississippi – red, white, and blue

We are the State that shines.
We are unity others desire.
We stand for peace and strength.
Our seal is represented.

Our families are our friends.
Our glory is justice to all humanity.
Our focus is to overcome any breach.
We stand for peace and harmony.

Mississippi, accordance we have.
Mississippi, we represent well.
Mississippi, you are the truth.
Mississippi – red, white, and blue

~Repeat all one more time and close~

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ode |

Dyliana Guytandzhieva

Dyliana Guytandzhieva, your name
has shone like a powerful beam of light
piercing the total darkness shrouding
today's Bulgaria like a black night.

Not only are you the only honest and
incorruptible Bulgarian reporter now,
you're the only honest and incorruptible
Bulgarian who's still alive and well somehow.

You were brutally interrogated and fired
from your journalistic job for refusing
to reveal your sources whom you fear
could be assassinated for colluding

with your investigation of Sofia's secret role in
smuggling weapons and other military materia—
through American and Azeri middlemen—to
Al-Nusra and other jihadist terrorists in Syria.

You're the Bulgarian Bob Woodward and Carl
Bernstein in one. You're brave, principled and
uncompromising—some might even say you're daft. 
I hope that you don't “disappear” one day—like so
many other truth-tellers and whistle-blowers have.

Copyright © Ross Vassilev | Year Posted 2017