Love Poems About War or War Love Poems

War love poems and/or love poems about War. Read, share, and enjoy these War love poems! Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for poems.

Poem Details | by Carolyn Devonshire |
Categories: love, war,

Why He Fought

Soldier stashed a silver locket
Safe inside his jacket pocket
When the war would numb his senses
He’d break down and drop pretenses
Open up the only token
That recalled those thoughts unspoken
Images of infant, young wife
For their freedom, he’d give his life


Poem Details | by Wendy Watson |
Categories: fear, love, mother, war,

The wounds of war

Dear Mother, should my footsteps never tread
The pathway which would lead to your embrace,
Know this, though many words were left unsaid,
Your love has pierced the darkness of this place.

I cannot lie and least of all to you,
My mind is frail, and body's wracked with pain.
I tremble as destruction sounds anew
And blinding terror strikes this bleak terrain.

Incessant haunting screams assault the mind,
And sights I've witnessed which I'll ne'er forget.
Scarred men lie bleeding, rendered lame and blind
Their troubled souls with thoughts of death beset.

And how my weary spirit yearns to roam
Through country meadows leading me back home.



07/01/19

'War sonnet poetry contest' : Sponsored by: Mark Massey



Poem Details | by JAN ALLISON |
Categories: lost love, miss you, war,

SOUVENIRS OF LOVE




Souvenirs of Love  …
I keep them all in a locked mahogany casket
It gets harder to open with my arthritic fingers
Yet every day I turn the key and peer inside

When I lift the lid I recall such precious memories
I caress the string of pearls you gave me in Paris
The diamond necklace sparkles like my blue eyes once did
Your mother’s wedding band is nestled in its red velvet box
You had it re-sized to fit me and had mizpah engraved on the inside
A lonely tear trickles down my wrinkled cheek as I slip it on my finger
You promised that when you came back from the war
I would wear it on our wedding day…
That day never arrived



01/29/18

The meaning of Mizpah is “The Lord watch between me and thee when we are absent one from another”.


Poem Details | by Laura Breidenthal |
Categories: adventure, allegory, angel, art, baby, beach, beautiful, beauty, child, childhood, confusion, courage, dance, dark, daughter, death, dedication, devotion, dream, fear, flower, freedom, goodbye, grief, hope, life, lost love, love, sorrow, travel, tribute, uplifting, war, water, woman, write, me, earth, me,

Goodbye, My Child

Where cradled canyons sing
Of ebony wood in the forest
There lies a gurgling spring
Where cockcrows sing their chorus
To the melody of singsong birds
There I’ve concealed my sensuous words
Filled with befitted signs
The saccharine whiff of my designs

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Where the fogs of night are fountains
Spills of glistened moon ignite
By distant silhouette mountains
We dance with passion of fight
Entwining ancient stance 
Mingling hand in hand we dance
Till the mountains smile on high
Near and far we spring
To pursue the realest of dreams
While the world cries at its seams
Anxious in trouble to cling

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

To where the ridges merry make 
From the beaks of wooden bright
In sparkly pools the ghouls awake
That scarce to stir our night
We watch for seekers down under
Muttering secrets in their soul
We bid them lucks of shivers
Dipping gently in
From reeds that hide a tear of a foal
Under the gentle rivers

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Far away she shall ever churn
The taciturn eyed
She’ll listen no more to turn
To the working mills beside
Or the scrubbing of the barn
May peace weave in her song
She shall wave in the yarn
To a haven known as Belong  

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

For she comes, the mortal youth
To the wild realm of her truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only her tears be found


Poem Details | by Maria Williams |
Categories: beauty, humanity, love, peace, world war ii,

A Rose by any other name ---

Through the hushed whisper of the breeze Flowing through the majestic circling pine trees I sense that I have stepped Into a sacred hallowed space A GARDEN OF ROSES A heady perfume hits the senses Euphoric, Exhilarating, Enticing, Ethereal comes to mind Heaven sighs in a high frequency of vibrations To whisk one away to never before felt heights An Awe descends on me It's as if time itself has frozen A spiritual and mystical alignment Encased In A Timeless Capsule Of Love Reserved for the weary of heart perhaps? Roses from all nations scintillate in complete harmony Where no negative emotion except love Dares Enter ANGELS SING FROM ABOVE And I feel it deep in my pores I see it in the mother who lifts her child to smell a rose I see the artist who strives to capture its beauty In the frail old lady whose carer brings her wheel chair close to the Blooms In the star crossed lovers In the older couple who stare fascinated at the thorns on the stems Perhaps contemplating their past journey That is now in a blissful state of BLOOM And I wonder to myself Since roses from countries around the world Can bloom in complete harmony Why can’t we as humans do the same?
Footnote: Dedicated to my Mum, whose love for roses shone through with her peaceful nature and her love for peace and harmony in the family'La Vie en Rose' was one of her favorite songs MAY ALL NATIONS LIVE IN PEACE This poem Is Not about the 120 varieties of Roses represented by the best species from 120 different nations. This poem Is Not about the beautiful hues from almost black red, to sanguine reds, pinks, orange, yellows, delicate Harlequin tri-colours of shades of red to cream or the unusual roses of blues and even almost indigosAll these pictures you can see on the net if you look up the Ryoseni Temple in Nara Osaka which we visited on our recent trip to Japan. This poem Is Not about the hundreds and thousands of Rose blossoms encircled by a thousand pine trees. This poem Is About the concept behind this Rose garden established in 1957 as a living prayer for Peace and Harmony among all nations, not long after WWII. This poem Is About the tangible positive, peaceful energy that pervades these gardensA gentle breath of wind is instrumental to the delicate petals scintillating in orchestration and releasing the beautiful fragrance throughout this massive Rose garden This is a garden that binds Nations together with Roses that are not only an international symbol of Peace, Romance and Love, but it is no coincidence that it is a species with the highest harmonic vibrational energy frequency of 320 mhzA most beneficial and elevating energy to our well being(Humans have a frequency of 62 mhz to 68 mhz at full health). Let’s bring back LOVE & HARMONY people - starting right HERE. For more on the beauty of Japan you may like to visit my poem 'Seduction In Spring - A Haiku Garland' La Vie En Rose sung by Daniela Andrade


Poem Details | by Geoffrey Brewer |
Categories: lost love, war,

June 1944

JUNE 1944

they kissed with dreams of peace in clover - for him fulfilled in Norman field

Monoku - Cliche: All’s fair in love and war


Poem Details | by Tom Cunningham |
Categories: death, horse, love, soldier, war,

Death Of A Lancer

My one true love with eyes of sparkling blue
Our hearts as one it was our destiny
Heaven sent you for me and me for you
It would not last but end in tragedy.

War intervened I’d have to go away
To the Crimea with the light brigade
My true love I thought of every day
Our lives on hold along with plans we’d made.

The Captain said “suppress your greatest fears
Ride close ranks and do not come asunder”
The noise of hooves were ringing in my ears
Sounds they made were like a raging thunder.

A lance pierced me and off my horse I fell
Then death came down, my life I bid farewell.




Written on 7th February 2019.


Poem Details | by Subimal Sinha-Roy |
Categories: daughter, death, love, soldier, war,

Winning The War


WINNING THE WAR
In tough action of war crawls the soldier across the thorny ground riddled with mine, charges with loaded gun on the shoulder, revenge and rage in mind sorely combine. Facing risk of dying any instant flash of the face of his little daughter he sees smile in his emotion dormant, he stows for his mission is to slaughter. His task is to kill enemy at sight with hands that fondly caressed the daughter. Fear of death is killed by the spur to fight, to live for her, it’s not time to falter. Become a bold soldier, fight without fear you’ll live for the loved ones winning the war.
January 8, 2019. Syllable count : 10 each line Checked on howmanysyllables.com


Poem Details | by Elizabeth San Miguel |
Categories: friendship, love, sad, heart, heart, life, love, i love you,

All is not fair in love and war

People say that love never fails,
That all is fair in love and war,
But really, how do you know,
What love can or can not do?
And if all is fair in love and war, then
Why does someone always end up getting hurt?
I know my love will never fail,
Because I love you with all my heart and soul,
Because I would give my life for you,
And everything I am or have just to be with you.
However, I can not be fair to all
Because all is not fair in love and war.
I wish to hurt no one, so I don't,
But by doing so, I hurt myself.
My heart wants to be with you so much
And yet I wish to hurt no one.
So I don't, I don't confess my love for you,
I keep it locked inside,
And as a friend I stay by your side.
My love for you remains forever pure and unchanged.
I love you, Yes, I do, with all my heart and soul,
With all that I am and hope to be just for you.
My heart untamed and wild, dreaming of what if,
But it's cut in half by the love I feel for both.
My heart belongs to you but only half,
Because I gave the other half away to him.
Now I suffer for my love, for both are great,
But only one, I wish I could be with forever.
All is not fair in love and war,
So I love you both and suffer much,
Because my heart is wounded, torn in half.
I can not speak of my deep love for you,
I can not confess my feelings to you.
So I go on with my life pretending nothing's wrong.
Why must I go on without your love?
It's faith, I guess, that I suffer so.
It's destiny to love you so.


Poem Details | by Verlena S. Walker |
Categories: angst, celebrity, encouraging, freedom, irony, metaphor, simile,

of love of war

of love of war
the staff of a prophet, seen fairness not imagine, sings shouting out, obscenity recognized, yet in search of fame, seeking stance the moment arises, seek of voice of power, godsend renown supremacy, yet prophet not acknowledged, kept desire of a great life, sought skill of voice, articulate hardly ever, cheek no longer free, famous self seldom bite snarls dogma, link of country of faith, kinship all that’s true, fair play desired fame acknowledged, pent the home front, covetousness war or peace love or hate, just yelp puppy love, nice _________________________| Penned on September 28, 2014!


Poem Details | by John Paluszek |
Categories: adventure, animal, art, beauty, childhood, confusion, courage, dark, death, depression, faith, freedom, friendship, god, goodbye, growing up, hate, heaven, hope, jesus, journey, loss, lost, love, memory, metaphor, natural disasters, nature, philosophy, places, prayer, relationship, religion, religious, romantic, sad, sorrow, spiritual, time, visionary, war, memory, memory,

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark


Poem Details | by Charmaine Chircop |
Categories: abuse, child, future, love, war,

Just Like A Child Without Borders

Just like a child I toss pebbles in the stream Each pebble is a wish Every ripple is my dream I dream of running freely my face against the wind Hear it's million voices and the cicadas sing. I dream of climbing treetops to a majestic world a world of happy faces where everyone 's a friend. I dream of sharing cookies with those we' ve made come poor I dream to share hot milk where we've created war. Just like a child I wait for falling raindrops to cleanse away dry mud Mud that turned in mountains of an untraveled path. Mud molding the borders so innocent can't pass Why do we refuse them when they are one of us ? Just like a child I forget the bruises all over my knees I dance into the moonlight along with flowing leaves. I return to my place with a kite still soaring high but cannot lay in my bed while others sleep outside. How can I be hopeful when innocence 's not pure When lonely tears are prescribed treatments without cure Just like a child I toss pebbles in the stream Each pebble is a wish Every ripple is my dream
Dedicated to the men, women , and children , leaving their countries, , their homes, trying to find a safe place to stay, to escape war , yet still behind boarders P.S - When I say We , I mean it - For our countries, our politicians, and our voices - We can do better.


Poem Details | by Brenda Atry |
Categories: introspection, political, war, war,

Urgent Call for Love

 Urgent Call for Love

The evil axis has been burning
Who rules the land? It’s now very vague.
The second son must get out of old Al Sham
And meet the hungry jury in The Hague
The puppet is hanging by his last string
And the judgment day is sure to come
Forty thousand martyrs will be singing
As they join me in my urgent call for love.

The war machine is pregnant and is bloated.
Money births an icy, rigid son.
He grows up in the muck of all this madness,
It arms its addled brother with a gun.
In my world, war is not an option,
Let’s end the chaos with a silken glove
Murdered angels soar among the heavens
Please join me, in my urgent call for love.

I’d love to build a mass market dart board
With mug shots of the Senators and House
I’d load it on an App and shoot the darts off
With the quiet, perfect clicking of my mouse.
How can these servants bow before their master?
When Moses had already freed his tethered load?
Make them testify before the one judge
And answer to our urgent call for love

Some years ago a scholar lost his lectern
Because somebody stole my vote away
He spoke his truth in defense of climate
And was told let’s fix it later, not today
When the perfect storm came a calling
It blew our measured lives and hopes astray
 My Mother, here’s an olive branch and white dove
I surrender to the urgent call for love.

The pleading skies and rivers, they have warned us
Their voices rose to wail their tortured song
The veins of life, they have been all corrupted
And darkness has been blinding us in fog.
Insanity bathes in its make shift chambers
It soaks in a vile and filthy marble tub.
Please join in my call for our salvation,
I am humbled,   in my urgent call for love.

Brenda Atry 1/1/2013 copyright pending


Poem Details | by elijah prophet |
Categories: allegory, war, war,

Your Love


The first time I beheld your being, I felt that creation helded, its breath.
      
     Without peace of mind you are in a constant state of war within.

With your tongue, you murder your brothers, sisters,, complete strangers,

      And then the innocent, as you allow the guilty to go free.


You go to war with your own heart!  Yet we pursue love, or and lust,

       with a tenacity and then we declare a cease-fire, that has only one truth.

It blinds us to such a depth, that the cease-fire fails.


Poem Details | by Edward McCormick |
Categories: adventure, brother, courage, death, fantasy, freedom, heaven, life, love, moon, rain, science fiction, sister, war, beautiful, heart, heaven, beautiful, heart, heaven, ocean,

An Epic Battle With A Simple Question

A beautiful heart pines from afar. To parallel freedom, we choose our master. In Love, the Dragon and Unicorn are! Celestial winged heart beats faster, Over mountain and ocean meet polar eyes. To parallel freedom, we choose our master. Embarking from sun brewed and moonshine skies Two alien races, in war, collide. Over mountain and ocean meet polar eyes. All brothers' swords raise, marching with pride. Sisters of heaven let feathers fly. Two alien races, in war, collide. The angered clouds rain blood from the sky. A new path finally found. Sisters of heaven let feathers fly. Brothers' swords low now to the ground. A beautiful heart pines from afar. A new path finally found. In Love, the Dragon and Unicorn are! In universe Out bound energy Where are we when we die?


Poem Details | by Patrick Cornwall |
Categories: brother, death, husband,

Notice of Love and War

He woke and saw his beloved asleep with one breast partially exposed

And with his fantastic limp he works his way to the kitchen

He made coffee for her with croissant lathered with jam

Gently he pulled at the exposed women and gestures with the tray

Happily she wakes and with great affection reaches for him

Coffee is second and pastries  with jam come close to him

But he is first and the love hits him like the wind

Gently it began and gale force now

He had to lash himself so he wouldn't be swept away

And it grew

She always lay in their position and there was no other

He would mold himself to her and tease her nipple

He came home weathered from the battle and with grief

Friends had been shot by snipers and the heat

He had seen a woman with a basket approach his friend

And she dropped the basket and pulled the belt

The explosion deafened him and his comrade's face is gone

Fragments hit him but he is running to his friend

But the friend lays silent

Gazing to the wetness on his leg he falls

He is deafened and wakes in terror and looks upon the leg

And finding himself in bed she tries to talk with him

But he claim's it's a bad dream and the basket falling

And later...............

The limp was his reminder of that day and he eats the croissant for his friend


Poem Details | by liam mcdaid |
Categories: life, lost, love, spoken word, truth, vanity, war,

Cloud Weavers

Little child
Your tiny hands hold a little flower
Delicately, you start weaving a story about peace
In your gentleness, you understand how happiness works
It is the sanctuary of warm softness in the heart
Free of all clouds and stormy weather
 
Little feet
You walk on soft white sand
Eagerly, you pull yourself up after each fall
In your curiosity, you discover what makes you happy
It is the freedom of making your own choices
Unconstrained by necessity or fate
 
Little heart
You embrace everyone without judging
Innocently, you follow the impulse of your instinct
In your imagination, you build the foundation of harmony
It is the pillar of mutual acceptance
Co-existing with different beliefs
 
Now, a grown young man
Your hands are no longer soft and delicate
In your journey, you learn how betrayal works
Painfully, you slip and fall each time
It is the feeling of deep hurt in the heart
That pushes you forward
 
Now, a capable man
You walk on a long winding path
In your trial and error, you finally grasp the true nature of humans
Disappointedly, you sigh at the people who create war
And those who instill hatred in today's youth
It is the sense of rightness that moves you
 
Now, a man of experience
You let your thoughts flow upon paper
Dipped in the ink of blood, words continue to flourish
Seamlessly, you integrate your enchanting imagery
With the blessings of God's living water
You paint a ladder of inspirations reaching the horizons
 
Seeds of the new generation
They are dreaming of a better future
Far from the opening chambers of blind heartaches
Those who drowned in the darkness of their moonshine spirits
Burning sinners and hypocrites
Drunken smartass slurring in a poetic oxymoron slang
 
Evil minds
Your eyes grin when you take away lives
It is the cold heartless stare that you exude
Until your victims' breaths leave their bodies
The demons in you rejoice in your attachment to them
Your souls are no longer your own
 
Unfilled vessels
The windows of your souls are sealed off
You have fenced yourself in to keep out the goodness
Spitting in Love's face, you bow to your Demon God
It is the hatred that you cling onto
When you weave long threads of recorded bad memories
 
Unforgiving gale
It approaches with a full force
Floors tremble and vibrate
When the houses break, it will be swift and inevitable
It is an unstoppable vortex of good and evil
A battle of hurling vile obscenities
 
Demon possessed
You will curse everything holy swearing lies
Sweet talking arrogance with no bounds
Under a thousand points of light
So blind becomes the beggars vision of a predator
Rattling through the cages of time
 
Death holds a beating pulse
Harsher than physical wounds exposed
Pain burns the poker scorching hot inside empty skulls
They curl their tongues in mockery of life
Cultivating a culture of takers and pranksters
Givers are now doomed and deemed foolish
 
Where do we go from here?
Stuck in past mindsets, the old must find a way
To break the mold and make peace
The young and new blood should never give up
On peaceful tolerance and forgiving love
Let bygones be bygones, start now with peace

a co write by liam mc daid and Angeline Lim


Poem Details | by Bertrand Raven Banda |
Categories: addiction

Kill You Today, Love You Tomorrow-Love And War

I lay in my bed day by day,
thinking of what next to say,
I feel I dont love you 
anymore,
its like I was drowning & now 
I'm ashore
I feel no love & no hate my 
heart is sore.
all is fair in love & war 
Inside my twisted mind i mix,
Two very different links, 
Today you die, 
tomorrow you cry,
today I'm wielding a sword, 
tomorrow I'm defeated by 
your words.
I see you in my dreams, 
but we are on different teams, 
it feels so right & yet its so 
wrong, 
its like I'm in heaven, but not 
for long
I will kill you today & love you 
tomorrow, 
this day is on happiness & the
next sorrow, 
Why am I like this? Are you to 
blame?, 
Why are you always that 
flame?, 
I stand in the midst of 
Armageddon
ready for war, 
with my armour & hammer 
looking like thor, 
I see you on the other side 
are you looking for more?, 
only God knows what it is 
we're fighting for!


Poem Details | by arthur vaso |
Categories: life, music, sad love, war, women, write,

Into your Hideout

Into your Hideout


The ruins of my mind
The bombed out places so so unkind
Lost you in the haze of hells fire
Bombs making humanity expire

I have dreams they call out as nightmares
You are running away from your fears
Amongst such destruction and horrors
A borrowed bicycle your only escape

Yet here I am, and you know not the truth
I am alive, and running, just as you
Through the ruins of this city so destroyed
I am chasing you, and screaming, stop my love

Stop, arête no more need to run
The enemies and nightmares ran out of guns
That day when the sky rained barrels and bombs
Wounded, I survived, our love kept me alive

In the deepest of dreams, I hear your screams
Love please know soon, we will be in the sun eating ice-cream
I will never stop my endless pursuit
Of finding you my love, my wife, my meaning of this strife

I shall find your hideout in the depths of hells fears
We two shall resuscitate our hearts, humanities fools
For all the terror, the war and hate
One day me and you shall smile at lovers garden gates

My blood is yours, my veins joined to your soul
No soldier shall stop us, from our hopes and loves ultimate goal
When I sit caressing your hair in the shelter of hidden despair
The hideout no longer needed

Us lovers, together, finally in gods sun and the fresh air


Dedicated to all the innocent victims of the horrors in Syria

I would like to thank a fellow poet, for her support, encouragement and exchanging of ideas, Casarah NanceI was discussing how often music inspires my writing, and was sharing some favorite songs with her, when this idea came up.

At the same time, tonight we had a workshop on www.baffn.biz  #Poetry room, and I would like to also thank Tim, Casarah, Jan, Maverick, Halil, Samantha, Armand, Keith and Joe for the wonderful comments and suggestionsGreat to see poets encouraging other poetsThat’s how it should be!


Poem Details | by mike dailey |
Categories: death, family, father, funeral, inspirational, lost love, war

A Little Hill in Arlington

A Little Hill in Arlington

There’s a little hill in Arlington
Where no bodies are interred
Yet crosses dot the hillside
And Taps are sometimes heard

Unlike the Unknown Soldier
With “unknowns” in the ground
This little hill in Arlington
Is for soldiers never found

I grew up without a father
He was gone when I was four
Flying for the Air Force
Back in the Korean War

His plane was ore’ the Azores
When communications ceased
The search went on for days and days
They never found a piece

My mother raised four children
Each day she learned to cope
She said until a body’s found
We’d never give up hope
The years went by just waiting
And my mother, bless her soul
Held on until her very end
To a grieving widow’s role

For fifty years we children
Had no resting place for Dad
No gravesite and no marker
No closure ever had

Then on little hill in Arlington
Where no bodies are interred
We raised a simple white cross
Dad’s Taps were finally heard

My big sister got the folded flag
And we all shed the tears
That had been bottled up inside us
For all those fifty years

Now Dad, he has a resting place
With other fallen sons
On a quiet little hillside
Right here in Arlington
 


Poem Details | by YASEMIN BALANDI |
Categories: baby, child, courage, humanity, love, war, world,

CHILDREN OF WAR

Off the stuccoed walls, the shells peel 
The wounded babes bleed
There is a story of harrowing kind
To every war
This one is no different to others
The babes die in Aleppo
The world maintain the stony silence
Mothers' hearts shattered to pieces
Meanwhile
 by both the forces of Assad and Isis.

The lucky few hit the jungle
In Calais
braving the oceans 
And the deadly shells
Seeking shelter from us.
Yet a hysteria breaks
In heartless media
Demanding the samples of DNAs
They are not one of us
We must kick them back to the jungle
And have them deported to their lands
Bombed.
We won't offer no succor 
Let them be tortured
Let their bones get fractured
Let their mothers’ hearts shattered
They are not one of us.
These kids need a right old kicking
The heartless whores of tabloid shout.

We listen 
And hold our heads in shame
Powerless:
On the face of demonization of the victims 
Of the war
Where is our tolerance?
Where is our compassion gone?


Poem Details | by STANLEY Harris |
Categories: blessing, food, funny love, memory, peace, war,

I do love food

>I do love food.

When I was young, food was rationed.
So much of this, or that, you were allowed.
Each person had a ration book for adults and a child.
So much butter so much sugar, a few ounces of meat.
If you grew your own produce, fresh veg was a treat.
And what was put on the table, you did love to eat.

Many years have passed, and food is not rationed anymore.
The choice on the supermarket shelf, tells there is no sign of war.
Now we are leaving the EU, what will the supermarkets do?
Will the shelves be empty and bare?
Or will more British produce be for sale there.
I do love food, so hope it’s there.
British, nice with a price that’s fair.<


Poem Details | by Matthew Wetter |
Categories: evil, love hurts, peace, romantic, war,

Whatever It Takes

When two choose each the other
Having decided this, their fate
A bond, a pledge, a vow replaces
That which, unchosen, cannot wait
Even when it requires a warrior resolute,
Vitality deathless, and sacrifice continuous,
Eternal must the pledge be, or
Risk betrayal's scourge sinuous.

It is at the pit, against the fiery horde
That Absalom dulls the finest sword

This is what it takes to stand at my side
Antagony to injustice is my cause
Knell my soul to abandon,  divide
Eidetically my failure would resound, preside
Sorcerous dreams expounding my flaws.

Indebted to peace, yet still facing war
Soliloquy sweet, punished yet more.

When the lashes pernicious slander my spirit
Have you the stamina to fight weaponless, naked?
Ardently ask the goddess Irit
That throughout the nightmare, you survive unwakéd?

Impassioned, immortal, immoderate, rhetorical

Would you, could you, if so, should you?
Illusion or real, my fight is defense
Leave destruction behind 
Lose selfish pretense

Give willingly blood to the unjust blow
Impatiently wait the night for the dawn
Vicious dark creatures attack love's glow
Effervescent, they dissolve at the light, and pass on.

Because violence feeds violence, and hate cannot withstand love's rapture.


Poem Details | by liam mcdaid |
Categories: blessing, feelings, god, hate, love, peace, war,

An empire strikes back

War is a time of great conflict 
bringing so much misery and suffering 
to a generation of people mistreated
on their knees in it's wake 
prayers are calling to Heaven 

Where the innocence of children 
becomes tainted 
no longer having a voice 
little ones confused
scratching behind the ears 

Silence there dwells
hate filled secrets buried 
under the carpet of lies not revealed 
from the unspoken truth 

Invaders are tyrants 
dressed in suits no doubt 
employing soldiers 
brutally abusing their powers 
given unto them by the peoples vote 
With no morals how does society stand a chance 

They are blind unconscious 
to their acts and deeds of mercy 
Sitting on their high seats of office 
Purely a stand up joke 
with false handshakes claiming peace
 
Stealing is not a God given right 
quoting justice seeks answers 
We have all been deceived 
Democracy of the poor struggling does not exist 

I call for world peace 
Address all issues 
laid out on the table containing truth 
The day for nit picking is over 
End this shameful bloodshed and violence
because there is always two sides to every story 

Victims of racism 
no blacks 
no dogs 
our race came lower classed than animals 
shame on your envy of our father's faith

Kept down for centuries 
Sold as slaves of little worth 
I am a writer of my times 
Where everyone 
should have a voice equal 
not hiding in the cupboard 

Love in God's light 
has taught me morals 
thou shalt not steal 
or take what does not 
belong to you pride 

Hate with the demons 
you dwell crying 
over your own spoiled milk 
Where was Europe 
during this crisis time
when human rights
became violated on our soil 

As a child to have a gun 
pointed at your face 
is down right cruelty in the act
twisting acceptance of arrogance 
through the vision of my eyes 
looking down a barrel at me 

Even yet years later 
they remain silent 
why I ask myself 
when the grass is cut 
before your eyes 
into addressing murder and child abuse 
big issue to act on 
in realities fact
the reaper of truth sheds light always


Poem Details | by Nichola Vincent |
Categories: bereavement, child, depression, family, fear, lost love, war,

Evacuation and Loss

The night shone for the full moon,
Sky brewing a coarse monsoon,
Bolted were windows, locked were doors,
The frequency of death frighteningly soared.
But who was this infant high upon the hill?
He denied the storm and just stood stone still,
Eyes shut like blinds and fingers dug into ground,
Felt he could move no muscle, for was sadly street bound.
Shutting his eyes, arms wrapped tight round
His skinny body, battered and browned
Praying for the sake of friends, family and all
However imaginary, he imagined them call
 “Boy, come to us we love you most”
“Our love for you is bigger than the Canadian coast”
“Do not cry, remember our love”
Joining their gaze in the beyond above,
He softly mumbled a song to forget,
The once daily song that was always a duet,
Alone on that hill without any feel,
Of an afterlife he finally accepted, wasn’t real
Tears met the floor, now bathed in yellow light,
As lightning struck him too quick to fright,
Child lay on the floor, dismembered and black,
Though his mouth was smiling and his happiness had come back,
As re-joined with family, head held high, 
He waved his tortured existence goodbye.
Hugging his mum and his dad the same,
Somehow put an end to the incessant rain,
The natives emerged from their homes, safe and sound,
The boy crying for happiness at the new life he had found.
Soul peering at his body, dead at age eleven,
Holding family’s hands they could finally pass on and join heaven
The touch of their skin brought old emotion,
 Parents who were torn betwixt war and devotion,
A child whom they gave their best shot,
By train to board and bomb to not.
The grave of the boy with the electric crown,
Who carried a burden he couldn’t live down,
Stood proud in the yard of cobbles and stones,
For everyone knew those were a heroes bones,
When you look into the sky on a stormy night,
Remind yourself of the boy’s plight.
As he is the clouds that damper weather,
Out to protect his town, children altogether,
He wanted a life for them around,
That didn’t consist of being mentally wound,
A life that he could never possess,
But he did not bathe in spiralling depress.
Life is sacred, upon that hill,
Those cobbles and stones bring great goodwill,
For the sun only shines on that grassy land,
Still holding marks of the boy’s humble hand,
Some say that the yearly rain,
Is him up above, the tears of a chain.
The chain of the tears shed on that night,
Of the fear and happiness’ conventional recite,
Up above, being tucked under the covers,
Is a little boy with an injury he recovers,
Mother kisses his head and says her goodnight,
Father over bed, comforting a nightmare fright.
Drifting off, the boy could hear,
A little rhyme to calm his fear,
“Boy, come to us we love you most”
“Our love for you is bigger than the Canadian coast”
“Do not cry remember our love-“
The young man rose slowly in his bed,
Opened his eyes and smiled as he said
“I’m here”


Poem Details | by Laura Breidenthal |
Categories: abuse, adventure, devotion, gothic, inspirational, love, war,

Bring It On

Eckhart Tolle says, "Life will give you whatever experience is most helpful for the evolution of your consciousness."

...

To this, I say, bring it on
Throw everything at me, the night of your own right,
And as sure as there is light,
I will live, push, cry, and fight
If the words roll away into the winds of woe
When your eyes no longer burn in my vicious glow,
I will pull through without, within
Taking all the impact in

Lost will be my promised purpose,
In the deepest prisons cold,
Jeers of delinquent devils shout,
"Out with mercy! 
Out with fight! 
Out with all the hope of light!
Into the fray, vicious and gay,
Stab their souls in false array,
Cut their tongues of honeyed hope,
Crack their joyous jaws and mope,
Beat their battled courage raw,
Reduce them to tears-commit them to flaw!"

To this, I say, bring it on
Drag me to the prisons that quiver,
Into the hell that encompasses the strongest of mind
If treasures are fables, then grime I shall find
And I shall mold the muck into wings of luck
Descending the cliffs of the damned 
I will light the wick in my world 
With the flame of all determination unfurled!

In the cries of goodbyes I will lift mine eyes,
Across the seas of delusion,
Sing-song, supple voices cry,
"Welcome to dream, 
Welcome to relief,
Welcome to mastered misery supreme!
Syrupy promises, in smiles we roam,
And make sugared falsehood our hanus home!
Take their wearied souls and breathe,
In the softest fumes of darkest retreat,
Drain their sorrows in the booze of blood,
Take their children and drown them in mud!"

To this, I say, bring it on!
Lure me into your seas of wrath,
Poisoned with liars promising heaven
If misery be my friend, let her lend a hand,
And lift those hopeless children from the sand
Riding the waves that were once dreams-now life,
I will let myself drown at the expense of their ascension! 
You will not take our next generation!

I rise in the gorgeous eyes of your frenzied surprise,
I make love to the promise that even the weak survive
As certain as there is love,
I will always battle with the tiger eye and the charm of a dove
And the souls will remember the days of suffering,
Giving into drifting doubt:
"Remember our slaving curse tonight,
Our God brings death as sure as night,
Weakly we beg you to surrender, right or wrong...
We cannot sing along if we don't belong..."

Moan and groan, my flock, till the break of dawn
Still to this day, and always,
I will pray, bleeding, heaving and graized..
Bring it on...


Poem Details | by Peter Lewis Holmes |
Categories: humor,

Let Rip the Farts of Love and War


I love to fart, it stands me tall,
the raucous rumbling, belly bell,
all look around with eyes aghast,
to witness such a mighty  blast.

when before the beak for slander foul,
I gave him one that made him scowl,
“does Sir require a time alone?”
I farted down his crony’s phone.

and if I’m lauded, like Le Potomane,
I light one to produce a tongue of blue
incandescent flame; thus lit, the room
and shadows prance, about the room
the dragons  dance

and when in battle we cower from gun,
and want to encourage my comrades on,
I crouch below hell’s muddy trench, and 
thus release the devil’s stench

then running forward death all around, I 
fart the bugle’s curdling sound, and to
the enemy’s quick dumbfound, so
soon we seize triumphant ground 

you see for me it is no shame, to unleash 
the belly’s dogs of war, and oft when
travelling by first class, I give them a blast 
from boiling ass

when love speaks strong and passion cries,
beneath the sheets there are no lies, so ahhs!!
or Oohs!!  I never start, but let rip a lover’s
orgasmic fart

look:  tis not the wallet, watch or jewel, that 
creates the jinx, and mocks the fool, a prettier 
penny lies beneath;
tis the fart; and jealous mule, the thief.


Poem Details | by Gert W. Knop |
Categories: lovewar, old, summer, love, old, summer, war,

Estaba lleno el Verano /Der Sommer war voll/The Summer Was Full

Estaba lleno el verano,
Estaba lleno el verano
de flores, de deseos
como un espejo de cristáles azules,
reflejando los sueños 
y el suave color del cielo,
estaba lleno el verano
con nuestro amor.

El color de las casas 
antiguas de Oxford,
limpias como después
de una lluvia de leche,
blancas y maravillosas.

Estaba lleno el verano,
lleno de nuestro amor
y de canciones.
Estaba lleno el verano
de calles angustas y cerradas.

Estaba lleno el verano
de espuma, de murallas antiguas,
de música abandonada y olvida.

Estaba lleno el verano
y nuestro amor hize brillar
los sitios como la nieve
hace blanquear las estrellas
en noches de invierno.

Estaba lleno el verano,
lleno de nuestros deseos,
lleno de flores frescas 
de un paraiso extraño.

Estaba lleno éste verano,
lleno de abrazos y besos de nuestros corazónes.

----------------------------------------------------------

Der Sommer war voll,
der Sommer war voll
mit Blumen, mit Wünschen
wie ein Spiegel aus blauen Kristallen,
der Wünsche wiederspiegelt,
der Sommer war voll mit unserer Liebe.

Die Farben der alten
Häuser Oxfords,
sauber, wie nach einem Regen
aus Milch,
weiß und herrlich.

Der Sommer war voll,
voll von unserer Liebe
und von Gesang.
Der Sommer war voll
von engen, verschlossenen Gassen.

Der Sommer war voll
von Schaum, altem Gemäuer,
von vergessener, verlorener Musik.

Der Sommer war voll
und unsere Liebe ließ die Plätze erstrahlen
wie der Schnee 
die Sterne erstrahlen lässt
in Winternächten.

Der Sommer war voll,
voll von unseren Sehnsüchten,
von frischen Blumen 
eines fremden Paradieses,
voller Umarmungen und voll der Küsse unserer Herzen.

----------------------------------------------------------------

The summer was full with
flowers and dreams
like a mirror of  blue crystals,
reflecting dreams
and the soft colour of  the sky.
The summer was full with our love.
The colour of the ancient houses of Oxford,
neat as after a rain of milk,
white and wonderful.
The summer was full 
With our love and songs.
The summer was full with 
narrow, crowded streets.
The summer was full with
the foam of old walls,
full of forgotten and old tunes.
Our love threw light over the sites,
like snow let shine the stars 
in winter nights.
The summer was full with our desires
and fresh flowers 
of an unknown paradise.
The summer was full 
with our kisses
and with our hearts.


Poem Details | by Bj Fard |
Categories: adventure, art, dedication, faith, inspirational, love, nature, passion, peace, people, places, religion, space, time, visionary, war, me,

The Universal Man

I shall live and die By my own accord Only my God may judge me To him I've proved my worth I am still here fighting It matters not what for On my ship of righteousness Headed for waters unexplored The clear night sky will darken And the clouds seem ominous I take heed to the sure signs From them I won't digress They are in the way of my dreams And hopes that fill my sails Like the wind from my heaven Keeps my skin tough as nails Evil comes to tempt me I am not immune Sometimes I play the hero Other times I'm just a fool Either way the choice is mine I make it with my free will For that's the gift he gave me And for what I fight for still The government is coming To bring a chaos they call order The line has been drawn Between two sides there is a border I feel myself being torn To choose a fate in stone Let this be a lesson Why I wander on my own Minds can be controlled I see it every day The weak wills fall like dominos That lie littering my way An obstacle before me I iron will it to the end And when the devil comes to dance with me I have already started to transcend into everything around I am the universal man my true form I shall disguise I am hiding it from this great Satan they say will come for my demise I know he will find me maybe he already has in a long gone nightmare that my soul he stole at last if I remember correctly I can't say I recall ever escaping his grip or did it ever touch me at all?


Poem Details | by Glen Schwartz |
Categories: america, grandfather, hero, hope, love, war,

War is Hell

        War Is Hell
              Our nations war to settle a score and or fight to noble fight..
           It's the countrymen who pay the price, no matter who was right..

                Now I love my nation under God , My country tis of thee..
                   My one regret is that my son , was my eternal fee..

            Like his dad before he went to war and served this nation well..
                I taught my son a lot of things, but not how War Is Hell..

    His camp came under fire one night while the boys were all writing home.
         That was the first of many nights, our families would dine alone..

                  The days were long , the nights were longer..
                        But with time all wounds they fade.
                   I could see my boy in my grandsons eyes..
                      What a treasure my God has made. 

               I spent most of my time doating upon the lad..
                 Telling him hero stories of his fearless dad..

               Now he's joined the core, to fight a new war,
                       and or make his father proud.
                  And every night as I pray for his life,
                       My cries can be herd aloud..