World War I Poems | Examples of World War I Poetry

Valor of India Unyielding Gallantry at Neuve Chapelle During 1915

Bravest Sons of India – Neuve-Chapelle, 1915.
(Linking Pin Sonnet – Dr. Joseph Spence Sr. Style)

India’s sons marched where guns roared in flame,
Flame lit their path as the Lahore men onward pressed,
Pressed with the Meerut through wire none could tame,
Tamed only by hearts in brave Garhwal dressed.

Dressed for the storm, Gurkha steel cut the way,
Way through

Fighting alongside the enemy

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

When The Child Cried Out

In the early Winter morn, in the Seargent's footsteps,
They followed on the burned, barren earth,

A place so strange, but so familiar, he looked around,
A sign lies, on the naked land, "St. George Vill.", it read,

In a frenzy, he wondered at the town that made him,
Now buried in its own grave,

While his Comrades rested their tired

ceasefire

 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

ceasefire

why
fight when
we can say
no more fighting
Now


written by dad

Poppy Fields

Flying over the front lines
with the French Escadrille Lafayette
a brown and barren belt below
a strip of murdered nature and yet
during the warm months of spring and summer
seeds in the shattered ground would grow
delicate vibrant crimson flowers
in row after row after row
and in those poppy fields
that's how we remember them
all the fallen soldiers
those unforgotten gallant men
tho'

our heros went to war

our heroes went to war
also know what there fighting for, 
to give there life's to keep us safe
to fight along to save human race.
in our hearts we remember you
know one knows what they really went through, 
to stand and fight and brother in arms, 
to pray to god as know its bad, 
remember the day

Armageddon, Lyrics

Broken souls and disillusioned dreams.
(Drowning in a sea of dread…)
Broken toys and angels without wings.
(Fragile things…)
Weep for the fallen brothers and infants without mothers.
(No light, hopes where broken…)
Pained tears encompass the empyreal rays.
(No more days…)
Pompous worlds painted in a destitute haze.
(Where are we now?)
Transmogrified in the iron flood.
(Wash me clean…)
Transmogrified in the spilled blood.
(Still we

Nothing to win nothing to lose

There is lots of work to be done
But there is nothing to be won
There are people that I have to greet
And promises that I have to keep.

The barking dogs in the street
Have nothing to eat they roam 
The streets all night putting up
A fight attacking the people the see
And chasing the cars up and down
The

ghetto boys and girls build ordelies

To you 
I dedicate
The visual hazards
At you a post
Bailing water
And ima float
Sam tha ghosted 
Ships end blisters
China bone, scandinavian romes
Too the beautiful i dead, i kate
Lovely little irish twisters
Cant sake
Im four’d

Political Stage

The world’s a battlefield, a restless stage,
Politics a war, rage upon rage.
Nations clash with words and might,
Underneath the glare of a fractured light.

Donald Trump, a seismic leap,
A tempest roused from the deep.
Voices thunder, crowds divide,
Truth and lies in a tangled tide.

An antichrist, some whisper low,
Dark prophecies begin to grow.
Fear and fire in the minds of

Whispers Between the Circles

In the dim-lit dusk of a shattered world,
where shadows gather but souls do not meet,
I wandered—a hollow echo of Virgil’s path—
between the ruins of ambition and ash.

“This is the way the world begins,”
whispered the dust-voiced guide beside me,
“Not with a bang, but with endless scrolls
and tongues too tired to speak.”

I. The Circle of Silent Spectators
Here,

Tears of innocence

The war stains my eyes,
Of unheard screams.
So loud that I think,
My eardrums will bleed.

I'm centered on ground.
The dirt beneath my feet,
The crumbling society.
And the guns taking my seat.

My wife is dearly missed,
Dead or Alive.
If I see her again,
They say "I won't thrive".

A man is a man,
And a gun is a gun,
Be one, which one?
Does it

Etched in Stone

Our village has a standing stone
 and on it etched are many names
Of village men, both young and old,
 who gave their lives amid the flames

The flames of war to end all wars
A delusional hope for sure
For as we know it still goes on
To kill and slaughter many more

So when we lay the poppies red.
Honour

The Edged Effects Of Evil: Part 3

He viewed his name as an awkward constitution for commoners to address so plainly and nonchalantly. Adolf held a preconceived opinion that a simplistic reversal of his name would suffice. To avoid an embarrassing brouhaha, the name Adolf presented a less than formal relationship, which he viewed as unbecoming for an absolute future leader of

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