War Poems | Examples of War Poetry

Look around, an era of strife, Yet God still plans to bless our life. This season brings abundant grace, As trials and changes, we continue to embrace. Progress on, define the way, For needs unmet, let not your heart dismay. Watch for signs, see ahead the story unfold, Let the Spirit decree, make new things bold. Towards fruitfulness, we now move ahead, Seeking faith,...

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No Matter Which Side by Malabika A mother weeps beneath the smoke, Her hands still clutch a thread of hope. The sky does not ask where she stands, It only rains on blood-soaked lands. Her child, a name now carved in stone, Not soldier, not foe—just someone’s own. No anthem sung, no victory claimed, Can silence grief, or wash the blame. A cradle sways in...

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When One Comes Home by Malabika The knock was soft, the world stood still, A breath held tight against its will. She opened wide the wooden door— And there he stood, not lost in war. His eyes were tired, his voice unsure, A soul who'd walked through pain impure. But arms don't ask what scars you bear, They only wrap around and care. The war...

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Hit them where it hurts President Trump said “Ukraine has no cards to play to end war with Russia”. Yet deep inside Russia, Ukraine masterfully destroys over 40 warplanes that could carry nuclear weapons, using smuggled drones; simultaneously attacks multiple air fields. Russia loses an estimated $7,000,000,000 dollars in one day. This is the one for...

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if politicians had to go and fight wars there wouldn't be any...

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Recently, there was a subtled battle, Between the sound from a shop and the piano. At first, it was just a little issue, Then it grew bigger and uglier, Between the personnels and me. For exactly eleven months, I have been playing the piano for fun, The unique half a century old melodies, Have brought so much joy and effective therapy, To the...

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Serried spirits walk on the wind Paratrooper raindrops collecting courage before descent Drunk off your paints, tasting life in your landscape Heart ablaze, my fantasies have been conquered Village pillaged by an army of one, glimmer of my eye tucked in by evening sun Assigned to your omphalos, war drums curvet At your touch, I evaporate into song Polyphonic acme ...

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"The clouds parted like the pursed lips of desire," opening to a dazzling glow of molten fire, as rays reflect to cover rippling waves below, and like a fairyland, the colors blend their flow. Dear Nature is the painter of the finest art that marks its motion as it spreads and morphs apart just like a lovely watercolor's subtle smear captures a...

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history reflects as... a reverse-all of some aspect of who is what where... len ...

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They came with dust on their boots and a morning star, Shadows of boyhood still clinging to their shoulders— They were sons of the land, faces bright with the dew, Carrying small, cherished photographs in their breast pockets. They rose with the sun’s trumpet call at dawn, A summons to arms, to fear, to death— Yet they did not tremble, They carried...

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Altho' 'tis something any sane man would disdain, should abstain from and abhor, there are those I condemn who choose to cry, 'Mayhem!' and let loose the dogs of war. Meanwhile, no need to think twice, I prefer a 'purr', to play nice and release, tho' they may be old hat, the pussy-cats of peace. ...

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B-52: a city on its own. You mess with us, we’ve got technology. I loved it when we flew into the zone: as Ernie said, “We’ll kill ’em till they’re free.” My job? To watch the black cascade of death and myriad explosions in the woods: Louisiana lilt – “You hold your breath,” that’s Ernie’s voice – “delivering the goods!” The pretty...

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Troubled men chase illusive Peace with sharpened knives and smoking guns. They recklessly wield all manner of weapons under the sinking, blood-red sun. But Peace is an individual choice, evoked through conscious decision That arises from deliberate and heart-felt aversion for the ultimate collision. At the personal level, if you are not at Peace it means you have chosen wrongly. Your reality rests in...

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Peculiar human beings builders of ...

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The silence here is not of peace— It hums like blood beneath the skin, A hollow hush that will not cease, A quiet carved from what has been. No birds, no breeze. Just broken ground, And boots that whisper through the dust. Even echoes fear this sound, Where dreams break and memories rust. I used to hear the laughter loud, My brother's voice, a...

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