Best Fighters Poems
The Poets are our quintessential rebellious, rebels
The Maroons, the Braves, and the Daredevils
There is a ton of biases even in simple poetry
The Poets are known to be born freedom fighters
The unafraidheroes of hell, the sweet bees
Which can sing and sting, and deliver honey
Even in Poetry, we encounter weird free-loaders
Sick unabashed orators and pusillanimous braggers.
The Poets are born to be different, legally liberal
Awkwardly conservative, strong ass-kickers
Blunt truth seekers, and not obedient ass-kissers
Call the generals, the Police, and bring the arsenal
Of bloated words, and epithets; dumb or foolish attributes
Write verses and elegiac poems to pay countless tributes
To the sorry plagiarists, and to the ill-polished writers
Nobody cares anymore about the well-versed truth tellers.
Copyright © November 2017, Hebert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
“You don't lose if you get knocked down; you lose if you stay down.” Muhammad Ali
I've been struggling to exist,
since the day I was born.
A dehydrated butterfly
in a garden without rain.
A white page, an inkless quill,
a silent poet without words.
But when eyes feel fuzzy,
head a little dizzy,
and the pills don't work,
we fight the confusion like a
gladiator without a sword.
a knight without a shield.
Every time we get a bit of respite,
it's time for another fight.
Sometimes like an old boxer,
we get knocked to the ground,
but like a fledgling I resurface.
What other choice do I have?
I'm no mercenary,
no militant, no martyr.
I'm a wounded samurai
under a cherry blossom tree,
bloodshed blade by my side.
I drink pain like a glass of water,
embrace agony like a lover,
suffocate sorrow until it's over.
Pain is a reflection of my existence,
my wounds a reluctant legacy,
written from massacres of warfare -
but there is no purpose without struggle.
I always keep hope for tomorrow,
but live for today.
Life is an advent of adversity,
we win, we lose, we learn.
We are all warriors,
as life is one constant conflict.
We are forever fighters.
Are we a group of writters ?
Or simply a malicious spiteful ?
Group of in-fighters ?
Only out for ourselves ?
With no 1 left
To prey upon
Because they forced everyone to leave
Because they wore there heart on there sleeve
And we were just not worthy
We are the freedom fighters, fighting for survival
Hopefully the next generation follow the same road in their arrival
I wanna make a list of the real ones
Certified legends the true dons
Nelson Mandela led the struggle against apartheid and became president
Heritage of a small village, that’d part of our resident
Marcus Garvey, leader of the Pan-African movement
Wanted us to go back to Africa for improvement
Malcolm X was a warrior in the fight against racism
But people feel he was some type of convict because he went to prison
Martin Luther King brought equal and civil rights for his brothers and sisters
Walked 54 miles for freedom, must have had blisters
Che Guevara was part of the Cuban revolution
To sought out the madness Guerrilla warfare solution
Muhammad Ali, the greatest boxer to step in the ring
Was against war, that’s why I call him king
Fellow freedom fighters, fight for your freedom.
Training day and night
Brave soul signed to his country
Blood, Sweat, and Tears
Behind loved ones are kept waiting
Brave soul signed to his country
Trained to fight
Fears faced
100 percent until the end
Blood, Sweat, and Tears
Fellow soldiers scream
Wounded soldier carried
Flown home to their families
Behind loved ones are kept waiting
Hope for their hero to return home
Until a flag is given to them
MIA and POW gone but not forgotten
Mighty Big Brothers are watching all people from distance,
Trying to hack every brain by TV and newspapers,
Armies of clones are unable to show resistance
To the corrupted and biased opinion shapers.
Feeding the crowds with lies, they don't tackle starvation,
Playing a dangerous game, they don't care what happens.
Fighters for freedom and thinkers who speak for the nation
Can be destroyed and defeated by their own weapons.
Make a repost from a blog - win a travel to prison,
Stand in your truth till the end - it will still be unspoken.
Those who want to be heard need a very good reason,
That is the freedom of speech, devastated and broken.
It is the same boring scene with some fresh decorations
On the political stage. But we need new playwriters,
Striving for justice in public and human relations,
Speaking the mind of those desperate fearless fighters.
~Fearless Fighters~
And there we have them
A team of believers
Who believed in our freedom
Dreamers who had faith
In there dreams
Brave warriors who knew the worth
Of United African Nations
Relentless freedom fighters
with great thirst for freedom
Fearless mothers and fathers
Who sacrificed much for their many children
Musicians
who sang against segregation
a multitude of Civilians
who were hungry for civilization
They faught in the rains
They faught in the Summers
Until all nations
At some point emerged winners
Though with great
shed of innocent human blood
They all fought with one spirit
One mind
Therefore on this special day
We stand as a people with on mind
To affirm that we shall protect and embrace
The history and culture
Our heroes wrote with their own blood
But this serves as a reminder
That our Victor's victory wasn't about winning a war
But uniting a people of different races and cultures
Preaching oneness though with different skin colours
WE ARE ONE
AFRICA FREEDOM DAY
To all the freedom fighters who fought,
We say thank you for bringing us into light,
Today we honour you for being independent,
Freedom is the greatest accomplishment,
You made us live in a peaceful environment.
We remember you as we bask in the sun,
For you fought with an arrow and not a gun,
Working hard until the whites were overrun,
Spending nights in cold forests and mountain,
Teaching us to be one 'n' united as black skin.
You live in our hearts and remain heroes,
They used submarines but you used canoes,
In the forest you're attacked by mosquitoes,
You had no doctors to treat your sicknesses,
And you chose freedom over your families.
©Kelmwa
My reputation is that of a jester
But I DO have a serious side
Some Soupers find it out of character
And worry that I'm not my old self
Not true... this is still me
Commenting on what seems to be
A much more dangerous world
Correct me if I'm wrong
Perhaps it's because of my advanced age
Kinda hoped we would have found peace by now
Not a chance, we humans will probably never get it right
It's written into our DNA
We'd like to think we're lovers, not fighter
Unfortunately, it's never been true and never will be
It's not the most attractive side of the human condition
We think we're above our natural combative instincts
If per chance peace on earth is ever to be achieved
I'll be long gone but I'll be watching
And will return for a day or two
To revel in a world when peace finally reigns
I'm a lover, not a fighter!
© Jack Ellison 2104
Green and growing; educated youth is a warrior, helping country to grow and rise.
To prevent democracy from becoming a book of rights and crime in disguise.
To fight out injustice they quickly take charge, without calculating the loss and price. .
Whether it is protesting or simple candle march.
Never scared of the valiant efforts required.
United and proudly they stand together.
Each one's emotions perfectly entwined.
Today's youth knows no race, caste and creed.
To win their support, no one needs to be a relative.
Inclusion lives in their mind, heart and soul.
With loyalty and commitment in their attitude.
Kindness and understanding serves as the strongest bond.
Always extending warmth and helping hand.
Proudly wiping out plural pronouns.
Loudly they shout out single pronoun - "together we shall grow, together we shall shine. "
They have the power to kill cruelty and crime.
However painful is growth and change.
It's impossible to kill their indomitable will,
Or even fight out their intelligence and skills.
Together they fight with complete courage and grace.
They just don't know how to quit .
Yes! Nobody can defeat their spirit.
Date: 10th July; 2020
Warrior Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One
My elders, have seen, the struggle,
my people, have felt, the hateful pain.
Fighting they are, on the behave,
for the rights taken, we suppose, to gain.
For how long, had they have, to go through,
attacks from the abusers, until they, recognize.
There was no threat, to none of them, instead,
all the protests, being done, was to, open eyes.
Freedom was meant for all,
and not just for one particular people.
So take into account, the heartache spent,
for those, whom fought, to be equal.
Dreams, new and old dreams, we all dream
We all dream of chocolate and ice cream
We all dream of monsters, bandits and angels
We all dream of good, bad guys and devils
That’s where nightmare comes into play
We all dreams of better days in May
When the temperature is cool, welcoming and warm
Spring fever brings hope, something new and calm
Living is about dreaming for a better and fruitful future
Without defying Mother Nature’s raft and thunder
Don’t stop dreaming
Don’t stop hoping
Don’t quit
Not even a bit
Keep fighting and dreaming for something better
That’s the essence of breathing like a new creature
From time to time, we forget our dreams
For diverse reasons like the summer streams
Wandering in the deep forests in search of the ocean
Which is miles away waiting for a benediction
We all dream. We dream awake or asleep
Simply be careful and prudent while away from the beep
We dream at night and at daytime
We dream and hope as we rhyme.
Copyright © July 2025 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
We Saluted in Honor
Right Hand to Head
In Victory to be Lead
For All the Hero's Still
Fighting to Live
Who Continue to Give
I thank You for being Braver than Most
Wounded barbarian none gainsay is brave,
Enemies harrying him to his grave,
Trench filled with valiant comrades, struck
And split by the axes, or arrows that stuck.
Orgies have slated and wasted his brain:
Wenches and wine left a mid-morning pain
Dulling his eyes as he slashes and swings,
While straight for his body a javelin zings.
Slowly his sword-arm is losing its strength;
Whistling arrows are leaping the length
Spanning the distance from bow-string to chest,
Encircling his breast like a feather-barbed vest.
Sagging to sand in a pool of rich red,
Shutting his eyes, he imagines instead
Maidens besprawled on a silken divan…
Valhalla entices the soul of this man…
Wife has picked a fight.
No holds barred! Man, she's a sight,
screaming through the night.
Warlike wife's wild words:
"You vile, vicious, cranky cur!"
He growled and bit her!
Janice Canerdy