Best Plowshares Poems
A mountain of some measure aligned slopes,
Silversword's statuesque uncommonness,
bikers and skiers, youth urban slang, 'dopes,'
pics of height's flowering tower upness.
Centuries of swordplay, The Word, acclaimed,
plowshares and the sorts treats its new version.
Purplish flowers are structurally framed,
like a cross handle, silver hairs orphan.
Majestic still today, handle to point,
Jehovah's watchtower, grand edifice
leans to age and weather. Volcano joint
Maui's 'House of the Sun' sole home exists.
Another species bides the intellects,
nature goes on living with the ... neglects.
Categories:
plowshares, allusion, analogy, appreciation, fate,
Form:
Crown of Sonnets
KJV: Isaiah 2:4, " ... they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruninghooks:" ... by Isaiah son of Amoz re last days of Judah & Jerusalem
Insomuch, the northern rains be as brief,
and the winds tear the southern plains relief,
sobeit, that the realm is the victim,
and the seas rise as victor; its dictum,
praise be not the state claim of righteous earned,
challenge naught by singularity spurned,
howbeit, by a greater force yon ours,
deliver its wrath on the land it scars,
then sheath the swords of heartless warriors,
in their mildness find besprent carriers,
and restore the misty dew dawn's embrace,
while tethering the plains a moistures grace,
and hail the dutious guards their former posts,
and the forces that be, as the realms host's.
Categories:
plowshares, appreciation,
Form:
Sonnet
Childrens of mother land!
Citizens of mother land!
I call upon you my fellow neighbours!
Hear my concern my fellow neighbours!
We heard reports about your Africans around the globe
Citizens of the world yell like monkeys when they see them
They are likened to mandrill and shown bananas
Africa you portrayed yourself as beggars and inept
Africa! Your children are scatted all over
In pursuit of greener pastures
My brothers let us turn Guns into plowshares
Africa unite to fight against ailments and poverty
Poverty is claiming lives of your people
AIDS is robbing lives of our brothers and sisters
Crime is stealing our dignity and our pride
Citizens of the world have a distorted view of us
Why unite only when there is a feast
Mother land is bigger than world cup
Mother land is bigger than Africa Day
Africa is a home to all who dwell in Africa
How long shall we blaze with anger against each other
How long it will take us to unite as one nation
How long before we combat prejudice
How long before we combat xenophobia
Who are we fighting people?
Who is our enemy?
Blood is not an ink to paint our mother land's portrait
Africa Unite! We are bigger than civil wars
Categories:
plowshares, peoplemother, world, mother, prejudice,
Form:
ABC
Dear 2017,
I welcome you to our blessed planet earth,
from your God given and gracious abode
In a few short days, you will arrive in full armor
You will bring us winter, spring, fall, and also summer
And like all the years preceding you, you too will be unique
It is hoped that more peace will appear before your 52nd week
I know that you will be well prepared to do your very best
Please be aware that to your God and mine, I am making my request
Your sun will continue to rise and set at its God-appointed times
I’m asking that the Lord will allow you to bring us shorter refugee lines
I’m praying that in your year God will spare us of so much inner city crime
Perhaps before 2018, we will be blessed with harmony and more love to find
May you bring us people willing to beat their swords into plowshares
May the children in 2017 realize that someone loves them and truly cares
May your days be accompanied with more rain and less pain
May you bring us people with more to give and less to gain
O, 2017, I just wanted to inform you that there were many in 2016 who experienced the awful agony of defeat
And I also wanted you to understand that these will need lots of compassion and aid to return to their feet
I well understand that you neither create trouble nor heal a single wound
I wanted you to hear my request to God that you bring less doom and gloom
12282016 PS Contest, Welcome 2017, Nayda Ivette Negron 3rd Pl.
Categories:
plowshares, children, grief, new year,
Form:
Personification
four star circus
side show of war,
thugs on a hillside
another killing floor,
greedy men squabble loudly
gulping down the poor,
coalition vacuole
futility galore,
sobbing children in the dust
silent tears like rain,
generation lost to time
born in tragic pain,
greener valleys stretch on out
blot out the crimson stain,
sons and daughters of the fist
hope for love in vain,
win the peace, slogans fly
bloviating head,
metal coffin rocky graves
feel hobnail tread,
darker cabals plot it out
empire must be fed,
marching legions to the borders
muster in their stead,
parched throats choking on a crust
bitter unslaked hate,
plowshares beaten into swords
blood debts won't abate,
who can say what life is worth
as condolence payment made,
trembling fluid, parchment hospice,
eyelights slowly fade,
sunlight melting slowly
moving through the dusk,
bloodshot eyes see clearly
at the future's empty husk,
dirty smiles, broken grins,
polluted tonic for our sins,
old hob just sits and grins.
Categories:
plowshares, war,
Form:
for KNOCK US DOWN WITH YOUR LINES Contest
How many generations have to suffer
the stings of those who would be bigger than
they are? Cain, Goliath, Saul, Hammurabi, Xerxes...
Other Ages were no respite from Despots.
Caesars, Hannibal, Pharaohs, Machiavelli, Richard II,
and those of the Middle Ages. All these made us suffer...
The Great War was only another step on the road of
"Man's Inhumanity to Man". Hitler, Stalin, The Terrorists
of today. Can't we yet beat our swords into plowshares together...
written 8/26/15
Categories:
plowshares, death, discrimination, history, holocaust,
Form:
Free verse
And he shall judge among the nations, and shall rebuke many people:
and they shall beat their swords into plowshares,
and their spears into pruninghooks:
nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
neither shall they learn war any more.
Isa 2:4
Trigger foolhardy Second Amendment rebels,
didn’t the pyramid spoilers free speech tell you:
Ain’t no guns permitted in the kingdom of heaven
No bang bang sound of violence will be heard
in the unwalled saintly places
There ain’t gon be no blood splatter seen
on the halo glow angelic faces
It seems the trigger pull allure
is dragging leadbelly, heavy metalheads
to the wavy, bottomless deep
Such a hot, smoking barrel shame —
Bullet refuge don’t Resurrection keep
It’s semi-automatic unwise to trust in trigger safety
Hell bells are ricochet ringing in
the Year of the Zombie Revolver Chambermaids
Unlearnt violators got bait-and-switch gender played
And the idol intoxicating sidearm delusion
is double-pump action misfire wrong
Let the Kevlar armor weak say: “I am strong”
Ain’t no bang bang sound of violence
is ever again gonna be heard
I’m just a meek, born-again eternal optimist ...
who faithfully believe in God’s Word
So go on and secretly stockpile,
if they coin folly care Second Amendment dare
Them gun-toting, war paint rebels
ain’t gon wailing like that melting sight
of brimstone flashes in the cold, darkening air
In the valley of decision,
trigger-happy steel-minded zealots
ain’t gonna give up their ungodly right to bear arms ...
Tho’ a few bleating souls
do chariots of fire spoiler alert tell it
The weak of faith will always trigger say,
Salvation gotta be gun-blazing their way
Even if granted mercy access to the most holy firmament,
they will still trigger choose to remain devil rebel hellbent
Categories:
plowshares, judgement, religious, truth, visionary,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Could always feel the threat in the air,
When a bad storm was gathering fast.
Soon heavy clouds would conquer the fair,
And hold them captive in their firm grasp.
Thunder like huge kettle drums would pound,
Lightening hit with perilous strikes,
A downburst of rain would fall and pound,
All nature, mankind and beast, alike.
Most storms downhome approached from the west,
But other storms much, much worse, it seems,
Are forming and raging in the East,
Threatening borders of all regimes.
History notes World War I and II,
Civil to Iraq and some coups,
Revealing that war brings on much rue,
Leaving chaos and pain when it’s through.
Yea, in many places conflict rages,
Devastating loss with deadly bombs,
Crushing precious lives of all ages,
Leaving their hopes and futures stillborn.
Very real threats linger in the air,
Binding people captive in war’s grasp,
Struggling in the midst of woe and fear,
Dying daily in war’s stormy blast.
Earthquakes, storms, disputes, and conflicts rage.
Guess they shall ‘til time fades away,
But there is a word from wisdom’s page,
Calling for swords beat into plowshares.
Peace is fragile and frail in nature,
To have a chance, peace must be honored,
By the brave ones of every culture,
Who desire war itself be conquered.
Categories:
plowshares, conflict, history, humanity, international,
Form:
Rhyme
Death stalks me like a sweetheart
Rushes up and then just let’s me be
All together my life comes apart
And I keep watching but I can’t see
Brush away the dead canaries
And put a picture on the desk
Another charm on the keys
And a dead carnation on your vest
Pound the swords into plowshares
And the romance into bell curves
Atop all the freshly painted prayers
Only Satan’s corporate d’oeuvres
Pull out the dreams and polish
Cry a tear for all the windmills
Look to progress instead of solace
Hope is just another bitter pill
Categories:
plowshares, emotions, growth, heartbroken, lost
Form:
Light Verse
Children of Guernica
Children of Guernica .
In deserts of no mans land
children play among the dead
killer themes from killer kings
what is the song they sing
comes raining down in
shrews of blood
Bombs burst though silent
air beyond the red glare
where mothers and children lie bare
In scripted carcasses of crumbling bricks
amidst the city streets
broken bodies limbs screaming
wombs of agonizing cries of despair
dropping down death from above
in the safety of the night
rivers of blood and angels of death
circle from high above
Sleep of sleepless dreams lie amidst the decaying corpses
children dressed in delicate dressings
starch white linen in ghostly silence
the lambs laid out to rest
Once so shocking citizen casualties
now so common collateral damage
distill the horrors of war
deadly games on computer screens
without touch or smell
Rage distorting the outline of shadow
horse’s teeth open wide to the sun
and necrophilia battle cries of death
stand still like ghosts amongst the dying flames
Wounded Pegasus gaping
requiems for generations yet to come
hypnotized to drum beats of war
where monsters of the id come alive
in the cradles of scorched earth lit destruction
Children born to such things
wander through the deserted streets
where there is no home to rest
sleep the dream of children
Lower at dawn their veils
through broken clocks time stands still
And tides rise over setting moons
amidst the lambs spheres of love vanishes
in landscapes of pain
Minotauromachy rises amidst the dead
monatours of death die slow
when swords turn to plowshares
iron bombs to gates that open
the hearts of wounded men
hush a by don’t you cry
go to sleep my little babies
In the meadows lie the little lambs
friends of the western winds
leave tortures on the bleeding grass
in lust for blood and shadows of fears
Moons of serpents awake before the dawn
crucible of blood cast bare amidst
the trembling wheat
street symphonies of stripped flesh
hanging from the poplar trees
Instruct us of our internal natures
inner conflicts and battlegrounds of distress
death instincts and dark knights of the soul
of tragedies and waste doorways through hell
and roots of indignant screams
Categories:
plowshares, war, , western,
Form:
Free verse
HAMMER SWORDS INTO PLOWSHARES
Entangled we are in wars – gritty nails beneath a ruthless -------------------Hammer
Time swaps bombs and guns, retires its rusty-------------------Swords
Spares its armies face to face encounters
But blood finds its way to sit uneasy on a warrior's mind.
As hapless Foes plead prayers that flow-------------------Into
A World Heart beating without Conscience--
Soldiers begging to return their bloody hands --this Spring-- to bless'ed -------Plowshares
( A promised world of Peace according to the prophet Isaiah)
Categories:
plowshares, hope, soldier, war, world,
Form:
Free verse
THE TEARS OF A VALIANT SOLDIER
The man coming home, used to wear
a military suit.
Man’s little older, wiser now,
not innocent … recruit.
‘Soldier his duty,” back then told,
same told, other young men.
Told they’d travel see the world, poor
gullible … little Ben.
Ben heard, “privilege fighting for peace,
for freedom for this land.
In return, be educated,
come home … a smarter man.”
And so Ben donned a uniform,
looked handsome as could be.
Put on, so that whole world might live,
in peace … and liberty.
Christmas Eve in foxhole, Ben thought,
“should be peaceful, not fight.” *
Thought, “must have been out of his mind,”
he’d known … killings not right.**
Christians killing other Christians,
saw Priest blessing each gun.
No way no one, on either side,
peaceful men … like God’s Son.
What no one ever mentioned, and
took war for Ben to see.
Blood guilt tears, he’s experiencing,
not who he wants … to be.
Ben, valiant soldier shed tears in
cold prison many years.
His CRIME, “Not kill fellow humans.”
now God’s approval ... hears.
Valiant soldier, peaceful teacher,
neutral in world affairs.
Scripture on U.N. wall obeyed, ***
'sword beat .… into plowshares.'
June 29, 2022 copyright
Contest : TEARS OF A VALIANT SOLDIER
Sponsor: Faraz Ajmal
*KJ- Romans 12:18- “as far as it depends on you,
be peaceable with all men.
**KJ -Exodus 20: 13-“Thou shall not kill’
*** KJ - Isaiah 2: 4 -“They shall beat their swords into plowshares,”
“neither shall they learn war anymore.”
Categories:
plowshares, bible, courage, feelings, humanity,
Form:
Rhyme
There Are Sounds of Ancient Thunders
There Are Sounds of Ancient Drummers
Calling … Brave Warriors
Gladiators and Warriors
And They’re Marching To The Cadence of Their Hearts’ Pounding
Marching, To The Cadence of The World’s Rage Resounding
They’re Going By The Beat of Their Heart’s Pumping
By The Steady Flow of Blood and Bloodlust, Tells Me Somethin’
… Warriors …
Courageous Warriors …
Chorus:
But, We’ve Seen These Men, Playing With Their Children
We’ve Seen These Sons and Their Laughter, I’m Hearing
We’ve Seen These Men, Loving Their Babies
And Tenderly Holding and Kissing Their Ladies
… Warriors …
Courageous Warriors …
2nd Chorus:
Oh Lord, Please Stop These Warriors’ Battle Cry
And The Battle Cry, Coming From Their Mothers and Wives
The Battle Cry, Coming From Their Little Ones’ Eyes
The Battle Cry, Coming From Warriors … When They Die
… Warriors …
Courageous Warriors …
Sticks and Stones, Swords, Arrows and Bombs
Lances, Knives, Hand to Hand Combat, Napalm
God Almighty, Oh, Thy Kingdom Come
Please Rescue Us, From The Kingdom of The Gun …
And Prophecy Is Marching – Listen, All Who Arms Bear
Warriors, Must Beat War Weapons Into Plowshares ( Isa. 2: 4 )
And When War, Is No More, Then We Will Hear
All Warriors’ Battle Cry, Will Be An Amen Cheer !
… Gentle Warriors …
Peace-Loving, Warriors …
2nd Chorus:
Oh Lord, Please Stop These Warriors’ Battle Cry
And The Battle Cry, Coming From Their Mothers and Wives
The Battle Cry, Coming From Their Little Ones’ Eyes
The Battle Cry, Coming From A Warrior’s … Last ‘ Why ? ’
… Warriors …
Courageous Warriors …
How Can Flesh and Blood, Mortal-Men, Be So Fearless, I Wonder
Are They Strengthened By Duty, Love and Honor
Facing Danger, Death and Being Torn Asunder
Sacrificing All, As A Fallen Soldier …
… Warrior …
Courageous Warrior …
Categories:
plowshares, death, faith, family, father,
Form:
Ballad
Deadly fissures of division ... tolerance of others’
different faith gathering space
is divided by hate
Almodad synagogue sadness
is the latest menorah light
extinguished by ancient dust clouds
A shifting sky of perpetual, roiling anger ...
thundering cataclysmic crypt loud
Dark tone bark dogma:
Shogun pacifist lies ... Amalekite cursed voices
in stealth mode disguise —
Cold metal lungs
spitting blazing darts
smoking barrel hot
Pour the molten rain
in scattering patterns of
premature burial pain
Smear the bloodstain moans
in varying degrees of
splattered morbidity groans
Ada-dah synagogue sadness
was the previous generation yarmulke cry
buried in the gas clouds
Philistine pagan pyre
burning Babel tower fire
fan the cantor wails high
Peleg and Joktan echoes
heard in divided sections of terror grief
Domestic violence done
Ellis Island openly,
with primal intensity of hateful glee
Adullamite
Synagogue
Sadness
Balaam’s brAss bullet bray tale
that the next mass murder massacre
double pump up the gun sells
Sorrowful Beth-el temple arias pray tell
that the kinetic swords get melted into plowshares
Barrel pride be a rejected revolver shell
Righteous tears knowing full well
that God will swiftly give a just reward
to the ricochet rebels, hateful holster burros —
Those who put their soul up for sale,
and bought a killer ammo treasure trove
The crown jewel caliber trinket
is a rusty trigger ticket,
to get onboard a bullet train to hell
Categories:
plowshares, death, imagery, spiritual, violence,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
The wind whistled a chilly tune,
As the day slipped toward a grey horizon.
Flocks of blackbirds darkened the autumn sky.
The quail's shrill call could be heard in the forests,
As the workers put their plowshares away.
The distinctive odor of burning leaves
Floated in the breeze that struggled to live,
And people could be heard coming in from the fields.
Workers and animals weary from the day of toil,
Eager to find solace in the warmth of home,
Be it a cabin, shack, house, mansion, or stable,
To be fed and bedded was the desire of all.
It seemed that the fall pricked the sense of existence
More than the other seasons of the year.
Prompted answers to questions if all had been done
To weather the blink and dark of winter.
All that could be gathered was in the barns,
And all that had been neglected was stored in regret.
Now winter must be faced with bold resolve,
With a prayer that survival would witness springs new hope.
The farm communities of old have long gone by
Where family and neighbor worked and played together,
Sharing the triumphs and defeats of agrarian struggles,
Working with their hands and wearying their backs,
In an effort to support and advance living off the land.
Through life was slow and perseverance strained,
The genius of that day has been lost to prevailing winds,
Never to be known again or valued as wholesomeness.
But those who came from those days of yore,
Gained more than most modern folk will ever know.
That was a time in yesteryear.
Categories:
plowshares, autumn, family, farm, friendship,
Form:
Free verse