War. Poems - Poems about War.

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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They said the sun would rise again, But not how red it burns at dawn— A bleeding orb above the hills, Where shadows march and boys are drawn. We kissed our mothers’ hands goodbye, The station rang with rust and steam. Our boots were new, our hearts unscarred, Still halfway clinging to a dream. The sergeant’s voice was gravel-rough, It ground the child from...

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Raining Bombs Why do strangers shed blood? Open waters, there's another flood. War against their own brothers. Weapons used to hurt others. Where do we run too? The war has been measured to you. Fight to survive. Stand tall for one life. The sky is raining bombs. What is the point of this when too...

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Tug-of-War Alpha Dog Carnivore Locked our horns Power struggle Crown of thorns Neither bows nor bends nor folds Instead digs their heels Leans in and holds Under weights of worlds shouldered Beneath catching fires smoldered They juxtapose Until the end And so it goes Protect; defend Both yearning to submit, surrender Though, coward, that would them then render So instead they hold strong their positions Each declaring their conditions Never has...

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An old man once said: Freedom isn’t free As a child, I grew up, never understanding those words. As an adult, I learned, the tree of freedom is watered with blood. I thought we had paid enough. But as trees wither without water, so does freedom without its tribute. As such I hoped, we could pay with sweat and duty. But once again-we choose red......

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The ground shakes and buildings sway with the blast of each shell. I cover my ears but the ringing stays. Fear grips my chest, Grief swells my throat, As I wait and wait in my safe place. I sit on a mat In the corner of the back room with my dog feeling human. Another day brings life. Music coming...

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This is a season for peace but not where the war rages, not as our country men die, not as the grill burns human flesh and the sky rains ash. My dear friends, do not tire out as the bombs drop, As the gangs plunder, our babies starve, and friends go missing. As the water dries out, as the chasm widens, when moon shows no light and...

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Tell me words are red And I'll tell of the lives We lose everyday in the middle east Of the lives in danger in Northern Nigeria The Sahel, Ukraine, Russian and Syria. Tell me words are white And I'll tell you how a world of peace is I will tell you how you go to bed at ease And how deeply...

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Dear Ma, if this letter finds Your gentle hands, your quiet eyes, Knowing I have fallen where silence climbs, Beneath a blood-rubbed, broken sky. The wind here howls like wolves in chains, Gnawing the bones of godless ground. The trees wear coats of charred remains, Their arms outstretched but never found. Our prayers are whispered into mud, Where poppies bloom from brothers' blood. And every...

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I am an Angler. I sit in the dark. The walls suffocate me with my agitation. I am an Angler. I am not like you. I am from the depths of the ocean. I am an Angler. Predators may eat me alive. They manifest a death strip, one which I cannot pass. I am an Angler. My curiosity is held prisoner deep in...

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Today my thoughts are on Master Sergeant Joe D. my brother who was four years younger than me. Growing up Brother Joe was always the battler, he took no one’s “stuff” and was never a prattler. At twenty one I entered and Brother Joe came soon, to the Army’s ways Joe seemed to quickly attune. He rose to Master Sergeant in...

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Robarme el destino Los weyes son kimo Porque me la Pelan Nada es sencillo todo Viene junto Vengo de abajo , Estoy en la orilla, Dale dela misma Me bajo en el monte, y salgo elegante, con cinto serpente mirada cortante. No conozco suerte, ni ruego favores, Ya nadien apolla Crecí entre los tiros, engaños y gente, hablan de guerra, yo soy de frente ...

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While I struggle to understand the battles, the wars unending shadows weep for the moments just before duty called you to the front lines, where you would meet the last encounter with courage that I could never imagine, valor, gallantry, boldness fearless as the weeping shadow my heart aches from the knowing you were young and innocent, fallen now a soldier beneath...

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