Short Plowshares Poems
Short Plowshares Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Plowshares by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Plowshares by length and keyword.
We beat our swords into plowshares
And the enemy bombed all our farms
Disarmament sounds nice in theory
But it's the other side's call to arms
on the back of an old bus schedule
an old man once wrote
seasons change and days turn cold
we long for the friendship of others as we grow old
our plowshares become heavy as our hearts become light
longing for the fellowship that only comes during christmas time
I’ve felt the stir of resolution
to throw off careless greed.
I’ve heard the soothing voice of reason,
long thought to be extinct.
So pound your plowshares into words,
turn your anger into votes.
Let’s march together towards sanity,
reclaiming fragile future’s hope.
If humans must wage war,
let it be upon our own evils.
Let there be genocide on
violence and divisiveness,
malice and indifference,
prejudice and inequity,
foolishness and falsehoods.
If humans must make weapons,
let us weaponize goodness,
arm ourselves with love,
beat peace into plowshares,
and (nearly) kill with kindness.
Such are the wonder weapons
we humans of the world want.
AND THEY SHALL STUDY WAR NO MORE
Trapped we are in war –simply nails under a cosmic-------------------Hammer
Time simply gave us bombs and guns in place of-------------------Swords
Swirling upward both sides offer desperate prayers that flow-------------------Into
A World Heart eager to return fruitful hands each spring to -------------------Plowshares
( A world of Peace according to the prophet Isaiah)
Capital is the original weapon
for blasting apart nutritional health
from commodity wealth.
If capital is human history's non-ecological economic risk,
Then cooperative investment is our original tool
for healing nutritional wealth
as compassionately felt
GoldenRule opportunity health
for achieving win/win affective and effective politics,
ego-personal
and eco-social
deep learning weapon/tool future investments
co-relational.
Alas, we must mow again, again
The Shallow grass, the poppy fields,
The tuliped glade o'er yonder glen
Until in solemn rest we mend.
Not for this time of rest we seek,
Our swords, not plowshares,
And our shields, our burdens heavy
Carried 'til we meet and on this field
Our foe defeat.
In long rows the harvest comes,
The youthsprigs' archaic drills!
The scathe we raise in unison
A fire so bright outshines the sun!
Cut down, cut down! And then were none.