War World Poems | Examples
These War World poems are examples of World poems about War. These are the best examples of World War poems written by international poets.
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
I'm refusing to lose hope
there's rising evil in this idyllic world
~ let me catch my breath
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
In a clash of burgers and biryani,
Manchurian with Russian fares so many,
All else that watch the fun
From fence with just bread-bun…
To guess who’ll lose, who’ll win,
It’s too early a scene,
Seems, burgers might lose their ‘reserved’ penny.
______________________________
Happenings |04.09.2025| humour, world, war
Note: A proxy war is going on in the world, the western developed countries versus the so-called south, call it a global power and the pretender hopeful, or NATO, QUAD and BRICS, SCO. Obviously in this ditty, burgers, biryani…., represent their countries. And then there are some fence-sitters. It seems, USA today has to contend with its President more than anyone else.
O Quintessence!
That which makes us, shapes us,
Through the dirty day
From dust to dust –
Did they know, when they unleashed you, what they wrought?
Stellar eternity condensed in cataclysmic instant,
Iota wreaking death, and smaller blasphemy –
Brief man stealing star-power against the night.
Did he know, when he died the little death, what he was doing?
Not you, for true, but great symbolic father in the garden;
Death brings death, seed seed, life life – the third will last
Then may we live in harmony with you, O fundament.
May we find a link that harms not you nor us.
The wild fruit we may not see again,
And End awaits he who tastes the tamed –
Somewhere in between, then, and let it, like a pomegranate,
Sweet us, bind us to it, that me dwell our time
No less, no more.
They called it “order,” they called it “right,”
As shadows grew thicker and swallowed the light.
A whisper became a decree, then a law,
And mercy was branded rebellion, a flaw.
The Angel delivered in Auschwitz’s hell,
Breathing life where the silence fell.
Her trembling hands defied command,
Cradling hope the Reich had banned.
Today I hear echoes—same venom, new tongue,
The chants of the mighty, the songs they’ve sung.
“Illegals,” they cry, “take them away!”
As history’s lessons rot and decay.
First come the poor, the unhoused, the lost,
Then comes the migrant, whatever the cost.
Strip them of names, reduce them to fear,
And the march of injustice grows year after year.
But tyranny dresses in banners of pride,
A patriot’s mask with the darkness inside.
Camps are not born with smoke in the sky—
They’re born when compassion is left to die.
The Angel stood firm where the night had control,
Hands catching sparks to rekindle the soul.
The question now lingers, sharp as a knife:
Will we guard the ashes, or cradle new life?
Repent, and you shall be forgiven
And hopefully, reinstated
If you are conscience-driven
It’s much appreciated
No need to come up with objections
Just humbly take the charge
Accept all stupid allegations
Before they grow too large
The astute will suspect you’re kidding
Those will be a minority
Most of the judges will believe you
So blessed by their authority
You go whatever way you see
It might be not the same
You walked before, but you are free
To start another game
It is a gaming world, all play
Whatever game they like
In games of war for peace they pray
In games of work they strike
Of course the wise like to pretend
That only justice meets their needs
But at the high stakes it depends
Forgive the hypocrites.
For a while, I have been gone,
Not so much for I left my poetry in my stead,
So they read, so they remember...
Yet here I am, alive yet dead.
They look at me with eyes,
Eyes that made mine cry,
No hugs, no hellos, or a faint gladness--
For I am here, alive yet dead.
The house I lived in, now lives another,
neither a friend nor a brother,
A man, they said, had no home to live in.
For I am here, alive yet dead.
The girl in my poems,
Married to another who made her feel
in many ways, all the seasons at once,
Living the life I prayed for in my sonnets.
For I am here, alive yet dead.
There is a sting in my heart
It is silent, yet it plays a noble part
and the dark shades around my eyes
The eyes that have seen so many die
And in the end, they would cry.
What now?
Now there is a darkness nigh
Slowly engulfing me, swallowing me
Taking with me my poems and my dreams
The life I wanted, the family that had hoped
The war that had come, and the lives that went by
including that which was mine.
They look at me with eyes
Eyes that made mine cry
No hugs, no hellos, and no signs of warm gladness
For I am here, alive yet dead.
From moments when love was cherished in Stalingrad,
Like stories written on the walls
With the song repeated by Babushka
And not long after that, the war reached its gates.
Hands turned into fists and ready for battle
Like heads and shoulders patiently under the whip,
The Motherland Calls enchants and glorifies,
Without knowing the ensuing bloodbath.
Every minute felt like a bundle of fear,
With the magic of free will as faded as a dust,
Like a house turned into rubble
And corpses piled upon corpses.
Disposable.
Just like the bodies scattered
As unimportant as the soldiers blood splattered
A black man stands watching violence unfold
Not to the enemy
But those who fought close
Those your supposed to trust
Comrades
Yet somehow
The black man
Is on the receiving side of the bullets
Not by the opposition
But by those claiming to be on the same team
With words that sting
He fought for his country
And as a reward
He is erased by history
He became an unknown soldier
Whitewashed because of colour
Seen as another sacrifice 'for the greater good'
Yet deprived of herohood
A man who once had a name
Now demoted to a nameless face
The question is will we ever know
The story of this unsung hero
Will his name forever be buried in the trenches of history
Hidden beneath the blood Soaked sludge
Drowned out by the white man's scream
Forever silenced by the songs of white history
Now an invisible grave of black memory
Under appreciated by a system so weak
It used black strength as a weapon and shield
The old streets, the old cars
The flowing river that won't stop far
The memories seeking through tears
The old paper ,all tattered and cleared
The music that fills time
The glowing star ,What a divine!
The literature, the song
The jolly old self that never returned
The world dark with humor
The very one that withered
The rose in between the pages
The radiant sun that seeks through the stages
The dancer in an empty stage
All with nothing but courage
The way they knew her
The empty shell that resided
The moon that knew its worth
The earth that breathed life
The tress that now glow with fire
All that now has retired
The pain and wounds of the war
The miseries of the poor
The hunger that dies, withing the souls and the eyes
The braver they were, the lower they dipped into
The depth of the world was hidden in a cage
All that now seemed to be filled with rage
The hatred only knew what it was
The result of the growing cause
Yet lies the little girl
All she knew were few words
Her life in question
Will she falter or answer?
While I was meditating
Then I started visualizing
And I saw a world
That world seems differ
Different and far away from planet earth.
Just like astronaut
I traveled from Earth
To that wondrous world
Exploring without fear of the unknown
Then I emerge
It's a civilized world
Not a jungle world
A world without war, propaganda or dictators.
In this world
They're always ready for growth
Love ruleth over hate
Courage over fear
They strive and thrive together
Very united, no apartheid
Creativity, productivity, positivity etc
Their demonstration without hesitation.
If you could have been
part of the population
in Hiroshima and Nagasaki
at ground zero
you would have seen
total annihilation
when the bombs were dropped
(Little Boy and Fat Man)
and if it weren't enough
you should become 'hibakusha'
victims of nuclear fallout radiation
the perpetrators censored the news
and only the survivors
were evidence all war must be stopped
In halls where silence cloaked the dread,
You raised a voice, though fear had spread.
With leaflets fluttering like doves in flight,
You lit a candle in the night.
Not with guns, nor iron might,
But truth and courage, fierce and bright.
A rose in winter, pure and still,
Defying hate with steadfast will.
Your words, like whispers through the air,
Asked hearts to feel, to act, to care.
Against a storm of brutal lies,
You stood with clear and open eyes.
Though gallows claimed your final breath,
You did not bow, not even in death.
Your petals fell, but not in vain—
They bloom where conscience dares remain.
White Rose of Germany, proud and free,
You taught what strength and soul must be.
A bloom of hope in darkest hour—
Forever grace, forever power.
He told me all is fair in war, that he studied all of our wars.
That when they take over, everything will belong to them.
He told me, when a new culture of government takes over they instill all of their laws and cultures, making all the old ones cancelled.
All is fair in war he said, so the real thought I said is when will this happen.
Is it done by population, by birth rate, by wealth, by some other type of war that is not in sight.
All is fair in war he said, makes me think of God, when he said multiply and dominate the earth.
Is it true that the one that has the most, has the most power, are larger families more able to control and dominate.
All is fair in war, is an interesting discussion, leads me to make many presumptions.
Reminds me of the days of plunder, when they enslaved all the people when the winner conquered the target.
Are family growth and culture and nation, are all related to war and domination.
Lifting prayers to God, for today and always.