September winds carry the echoes of ancient songs,
When air was sweet with the scent of earth
And we placed our wishes upon the willow's roots,
Weeping then as echoes drowned in the noise of throngs,
When cares of life displaced the child’s mirth
And left us crushed by war's tough boots.
high above… shines love
celestial skies… peaceful dove…
down below... war’s glow
TENDER VICTIMS (Children of Gaza Contest)
Dust-covered children,
With tear-streaked faces
And bloodshot eyes.
Orphaned. Abandoned.
Offered no respite--
Empty promises and lies.
Barefoot in rubble,
Tiny hands reaching,
Covered in flies.
Surrounded by debris,
Shattered homes,
With none to hear their cries.
The six o’clock news
Tells their story--
And gets one or two sighs.
My Dream
No
War
Vain
Pain in
The world
Peace rooms
Collect us all in together
Harmony sings love songs so much
We live and let live with no war to wage to harm
WAR
ONLY HITHER KNEW HIMSELF
SELF TO DESTROY THE WORLD
WELL DONE MISTER
WE HAD ANOTHER WAR FROM YOU
(“Citadel of Light Merit Badge”, 2016, original pen and ink)
Battle For Your Mind
We live in a time of upheaval and change,
Challenge and war,
But the biggest battle
Is what some call “jihad”
An internal struggle of light and dark
As a soul makes their way along the path.
But along with the esoteric jihad
There is the exoteric, external struggle for your soul,
And battle for your mind,
A battle between the Death-eaters
And the Life-givers.
In this battle of temptation
Desertion is always an option,
And as many times as we may vacillate
What matters most is where we finally settle.
And in an infinite universe
On a timeline of eternity,
As Led Zeppelin said,
You can always change the road you’re on.
But once we know how it will end
Then the momentary ups and downs
Cannot confuse and distract us.
This is the Path of Seeing
The path of no return
The warrior path
In the battle for your mind.
(9/16/25)
Gone is the quiet. Gone is the holding back.
The war is here. The war is back.
We are readied from the fear, of loosing all we hold dear.
We fear all for we care for all.
We destroyed the plights drowning our dwindling lights.
We will make it right.
Born in the dark.
Nurtured by stone.
Forged by the core.
No longer shall we be broken. For now we break.
---
A dwarven song, newly crafted for an old friend. Saved from horrors and now they know that war is back, they will not flee like they once did. In the war then never really ended.
The very ground quakes with their words, their hum, the ground echoes in odd ways and begs for them to heed their words. Begging all to help.
-On to war-
It cries. Not in blood lust. Not in wanton destruction.
In a plea to make the echoing pain stop. If even just for a moment.
Just to break the cycle once.
That's all that's truly needed.
Life lost, she bore;
The cost of war.
Is it enough, the constant
Abuse of words homeward
On all mind and attackers if better
The worthing of my sleepy eyelids
Shantee dwelled eyelids
Of humans assembled against that I alone
Creating terror in silence
Witness criminology from affronted dishonor
Boundary as military parallel and in stilled eye single remorse I'll not review in news
Years begat war none speak of the front lines
All will myself lonely into the trench
As yesterday you will wake up tomorrow forgotten of being past the freedom of a single vote, literally, in time
Like roar, he snores-
Ears sore, she bores
Beneath the dusty streets where children play
the twilit baneful torture tunnels lay
where many innocents are laid to rot
among them, some still breathe but countless not.
Among the dusty streets, the children act
their role to maximize a shock impact
on our naive, jaundiced media types
greedily turning up to earn their stripes.
Amidst the dusty streets, the children shield
the homes where missile launchers are concealed;
not one child wished to execute this role;
expect to pay the devastating toll.
In dusty streets, now innocence is lost
and children’s lives are nonchalantly tossed,
by tribes with little desire to debate,
upon the altar of ancestral hate.
TO THE WHY OF WARS
Why are there still wars?
A perennial question;
A simple answer:
God gives humans their free will;
They choose theirs, instead of His:-
THIRSTY PEACE WALLOWING
In life’s wet streamings–
Sweat, tears, and painful peeing–
Peace wallows in thirst:-
Today’s warring wet waters,
Quenching greed’s evil thirstings:-
They are not headlines,
not numbers
stacked in columns of loss.
They are children...
running with paper kites
stitched from the scraps of yesterday,
drawing suns with broken crayons
on walls that no longer stand.
Their laughter once rose
above the call to prayer,
a fragile hymn
against the roar of falling skies.
Now, quiet shows them before their time
how to carry grief in tiny palms,
how to tuck emptiness close
as though it had been cradled in their chest all along.
Yet—
in the rubble,
a doll without arms still wears a smile.
In the dust,
tiny feet trace games
on streets the world has forgotten.
Hope is stubborn.
It hides in their eyes
flickering like a candle
protected from the wind,
whispering to us
if we tune our hearts to
their quiet voice,
...that childhood
should be a garden,
not a graveyard of dreams.
Remember them.
Not as shadows of war
but as children who deserve
to wake beneath an unbroken sky.
we surf the channels
some shall shrug and look away…
this is not my child
Specific Types of War Poems
Read wonderful war poetry on the following sub-topics:
anti, biological, brave, children, civil, cold war, cyber, economic, history, kids, nuclear, peace, political, sad, soldier, spanish, time, vietnam, world, ww1, ww2
and more.
Definition | What is War in Poetry?
Poems Related to War
anti war, battle, battleship, bloodshed, civil war, cold war, combat, conflict, fighting, gun, hostility, korean war, peace, peacetime, strife, submarine, vietnam war, wage war, warfare, world war i, world war ii, wwi, wwii