World. Poems - Poems about World.

When under the gun how can one not be outdone by nepotism or overcome by favouritism altho' the norm they're no more than a form of terrorism a nebulous opponent none can fight on the human landscape naught but a blight from which we can't escape or run any self-respecting someone would shun and as for me you see I was obviously yet definitely born in the...

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You are my world Father And in you world I want to live Forever Father Also, it is amazing How you have Created your world Before you created Human beings You have made the sky blue With your holy hands AIso, Father you have made The birds with your holy hands The last thing you made After you made the human beings Was the Ocean During the Summer The human beings spend there Time Swimming...

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I’ve found that it’s not so inconvenient To live with eyes closed from time to time Towards my troubles I'm becoming lenient In the appalling news I cannot change a line So it does seem to me counterproductive If I’d worry if we're cheaply bought and sold If I sought a remark that eases the distructive Troubles they send to share...

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It’s as if the cameras have gone blind the inks bled dry on every page young souls grow up knowing only war their cries muted though echoes rage. The crisis in Yemen slips from view no longer fit for breaking news their names consigned to dusty files their suffering ignored. What truly happened to this land? No press to trace its haunted streets no orbiting...

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lay aside their arms .. for ~ just one silent night ----- Light up the Lanterne Sponsor: Nette Onclaud 19/05/25 ----- The Christmas Armistice of 1914: World War I on the Western Front had settled into stalemate. On Christmas Eve, soldiers from both sides spontaneously began singing carols - mainly...

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why fight when we can say no more fighting Now written by dad...

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In a world of illusions, where great and small liars play chess with destinies, Curtains of smoke dance on the stage of time, hiding unwritten truths, On a black canvas, they paint empty words, with brushes of dirty silver, And in deep pockets they gather shattered dreams, like stones from a silent river. Under the mask of saviors, they...

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When I was younger, I thought that in retirement I would take pictures of or paint beautiful clouds situated so vividly above us. Clouds more often appear as wonderous displays in the canopy. Clouds sometime seems so ominous and threatening. Clouds often hover above us like a band of darkness and at other times, they are white and crystal...

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No More War Marching boots echo no birds sing in the shattered valleys. Children’s toys buried beneath the smoking ruins where are they ? Flags wave in triumph, but mothers get folded notes instead of sons. Steel birds above us drop fire with no memory earth weeps sorrowfully A soldier's last breath drifts with dust into the wind nameless in the dark. . No victor remains when the fields are...

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our home grown monarch ...

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Within the thick rainforest’s living light, where leaves shimmer with soft emerald light, there lives a creature no one has seen, Luminara, the secret of the night. Its skin is like liquid moonlight, cool and smooth, tracing patterns only the night knows. Its wings unfold like glass petals, translucent, catching every glimmer of the forest’s glow. It moves without a sound, a flicker of...

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Maybe love is forever Or at least long enough Maybe devotion is definite Or will at least last a lifetime Maybe you can have everything in the palm of your hand Because I once saw a man With his world in his hands Every Sunday at 8:30 am sharp The golden hour of the morning When the sun is warming Not yet burning When the day...

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Infinite world, my only escape. Infinite world, the life I hate. My hand is cramping as I write. But I don’t care. I still fight. The lead is scraping paper thin, Slicing air with every spin. Infinite world, my one place. Infinite world, my only safe space. My pencil was once unused, Unmarked, clean, and unbruised. My hand was once unsure, Quiet, soft, and insecure. Not that...

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~ Day and night have doors between different realities ~ quote by poet Children are an infinite source of wonder and w h i m s y R e v e r i e has the ability to let thoughts fly a balance between illusion and reality The...

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We are all poems in motion our beauty shaped by the choices we make the words we speak the paths we take. So let’s write something beautiful. Let’s choose peace instead of war kindness instead of cruelty love that doesn’t ask to be earned. Be a sonnet not a dirge carry hope in your lines leave room for others in your verses and rhythm that heals...

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