Cold War War Poems | Examples
These Cold War War poems are examples of poetry about Cold War War. These are the best examples of War Cold War poems written by international poets.
We were the USA all tried and true
red, white and blue in 1952
our archenemy, our nemesis was the USSR
we despised them
We were capitalism, they were communism
we kids knew that we needed to win the space race
there was much cheering for our astronauts
We thought we were ahead
Lots of propaganda said we were anyway
The Berlin Blockade and Cuban Missile Crisis were on the news
There were McCarthy trials for writers and actors in Hollywood
USA children were taught to despise the USSR
The USSR was our enemy; it was okay to hate them
We knew they were bad, even if we did not know how
The cold war did not include actual fighting
But it sure did include propaganda and espionage
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It used to be called the U.S. Department of Defense,
even in the Cold War days when things were very tense.
But now its been changed to the Department of War.
Can someone please explain to me what the hell for?
Well, we certainly live in interesting times.
Some say it should now be the "Department of War Crimes"!
The HippoPOTUS claims to be a man of peace.
Meanwhile, we pray for his brutality to cease.
He has repeatedly shown that he deserves no peace prize,
with his declarations both impudent and unwise.
Quid pro quo my darling, yes or no?
Press play.
Caught within an erotic cold war,
control.
It’s not acceptable to bend the knee,
break it.
My desire outweighs your defiance.
Give in.
It’s our sinful hierarchy of hunger,
my dear.
Well it’s not a big issue to know
That I am an abstraction to you
Anyway to your world I can't go
And to tell you the truth, I won’t do
But the same goes to you, isn’t it
A cold war number two made for us
We’ve gone over the budget and split
Now again in the borders we trust
Or in case we do not, then we mime
That we’re different to the core
We pretend not to know it’s a lie
Hope you win with a crushing score
So we’re free from the things we could share
Free to wave our hopeless goodbye
It’s a cold war excuse, that you’re there
And I’m here again, wasting time.
Don't you understand what I'm trying to say
Can't you feel the fears I'm feeling today?
If the button is pushed, there's no runnin' away
There'll be no one to save with the world in a grave
Take a look around you boy, it's bound to scare you, boy
And you tell me
Over and over and over again, my friend
How you don't believe
We're on the eve of destruction
Eve of Destruction sung by Barry McGuire
World War III
Could we on the verge?
Is this another cold war?
Will it end badly?
All it takes is a wrong word,
itchy finger, Russian coup,
a single accident and the world
will end in fire followed
by a long cold nuclear winter.
There will be no one left
to write poetry
Mutually Assured Destruction
Air-raid drills in the hallway,
air-raid shelters in the backyard,
neither would have worked.
If us and the Russians would have
gotten MAD at each other
the Cold War would have been toast.
In 1990 with détente,
no one would get MAD
or so we thought.
Perhaps the Russians will get MAD
at the Ukranians. The Ukraine gave
up its nukes, so perhaps AD instead.
Maybe the Iranians will now get the
bomb and be MAD at the Israelis. Or
maybe the Israelis get MAD first.
Perhaps India gets MAD at Pakistan, or
maybe they get MAD at each other.
So, they will be MAD together.
Perhaps we will all get MAD at
the same time. Oh well, no one
will be left.
MADDENING.
For my entire life
I've always been on the brink
of annihilation.
A cold war child
a nuclear age child
petrified of being exposed
to the fallout, child
Under a wooden desk
covering porcelain neck
the unforgiving sirens.
Teachers yapping at us to keep our heads covered.
Seven years of age
stressed out by the alphabet
A thoroughly undiagnosed dyslexic
We’d already beaten Japan
But the A-bomb was Truman’s plan
To tell Russian reds
We’ll cut you to shreds
And that’s how the Cold War began
We flashed two targets civilian
And killed point two of a million
Of sub-human trash
Just burned into ash
But we’re in no way reptilian
The territorial aspirations of the dictators
change in the course of aggressive adventure,
the geopolitical scenario through regional conflicts,
with the dreadful potential of global escalation.
Though the cold war between the super-powers
has ended with the demolition of a wall,
the global hot spots of persistent conflicts,
flared by the supremacy pursuit still persist.
As predicted by Nostradamus, these spots,
the clashing arena now of limited proxy war,
might someday thrust the world into World War 3,
with mass destruction weapons ending the civilization.
The humanity will face unprecedented devastation
at the aftermath of WW3, the nuclear apocalypse.
In the midst of the nuclear winter then,
there won’t be any winner in another ice age.
You spiked my drink,
I poisoned thine.
You pulled a dagger,
I swung a halberd.
You threw a grenade
And I threw a bomb.
This might have been a story between Russia and the United States
But is it a story of you and me?
Is it the story of Democrat and Republican?
Is it the story of Christian vs Atheist?
What if:
You spiked my drink,
I simply gave you water.
You pulled a dagger,
I gave you a teddy bear.
You threw a grenade
I baked a pie!
There are decisions to make when we don’t agree,
One path leads to war,
One path leads peace.
'Experts' assured us the Cold War was over
that Russia’s a bit player now
My hat’s off to them: We’ve got a Hot War brewing ~
but Russia’s on offense, somehow
Drinking San Miguel at the Spanish Gate.
Naval Base Subic Bay.
A Cold War hovered above my head.
The jukebox rocked Tom Petty.
“Somewhere, somehow, somebody
“Must’ve kicked you around. son.”
I’d been kicked around enough to know
That life was a hit and run.
And I’d pondered it many a dark watch,
The fate of the refugee.
For what useful thing is freedom
If not paired with agency?
Now, many years later, watching the news,
I think of the words of that song,
While reality echoes the chorus for millions,
Proving Tom Petty wrong.
Premiered at Woodrow’s Roadside Shelter, Vienna, MO – 2/12/2008
ACT 1
Epaminandas at Leuctra
MacMurphy’s Head
Outremer
Silent Butler
Valentine from Valley Forge
La Garde Reculé
Count It with Numbers
ACT 2
If the War Goes On
On the Eve of Camerone
Washichu
Apacharia
Stone Cold Sunshine
Remembrance Day
ACT 3
Holding Attack
End Game
Cold War Clientele
Execution Style
New Dark Ages
Burn Ward
Talking Points
My thumbs pressed on the trigger.
The M-2 bucked its load.
I squinted down the barrel
And watched his head explode.
An early morning ambush,
A steaming Luzon hell,
For Ferdi and Imelda,
Our Cold War clientele.
The mission was generic:
Suppress the NPA*.
It didn't really matter
Just who got in the way.
I carried out my orders
And did what I was told,
But Christ, the kid I wasted
Was only twelve years old.
*New People’s Army – a Maoist insurgency
COLD WAR ARTIST
The art of such intention is fatigue
At living lies outside the scope of death,
To wear in the last blitzkrieg
A shroud meaning artist, a wreath
Of columbine in the hair, but the kitchen eyes,
Carbuncled knees betray the giver’s art.
Down on the doorstep, she’ll scrub your lies:
To her gift of total self she’ll add a part -
Your own tongue sliced and severed on her plate
Of 20th century design – taste
The dust of pointillism, the cubist fate
Of newspaper and cello here embraced –
The emptiness filched from the master’s past:
Mankind’s death wishes, home to roost at last.
1964-1987
published IN MEMORY OF HER, Dublin, 2008