Labour poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of labour poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on labour are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
A face unbeknownst – belying recognition, To create mighty buildings is his mission. With caring hands does he mix, The cement and mud that he spreads over the bricks. Over his head he carries, The stones brought from the quarries.
Sweat Sweat travels through the wave His vice gets harder and harder Leeches, Earthworm clamoring in the soil The Earth is crying with the sweat Some fear, some take a bow His bread and butter he earn though Blood gushes
I have a lush green garden full of Charming snakes, Their frightful sight can give heart attacks. Though in appearance attractive and sleek, Their dominance can make your life very bleak. My garden attracts them to fulfil their greed, They
Through the wrought iron gate, Emblazoned with an ironic promise Of freedom earned through labour. A promise fulfilled only for the lucky few. Within, dull, threatening concrete towers Survey the inner pen, once filled With innocent men and women, Ready
A mythical apocalypse about life in Hell This is the crux of the matter, That the sinners will carry the cross of the master. Though it’s wonderful in hell, What has happened to Hell? is it a relaxable place? To
Or, at least that’s what you might think. Judgement hurts in too many ways to count. I stand in the local thrift market looking for trinkets and such with my father. He came here to look for vintage picture frames
They were boys of Carson’s army, sons of Ulster, loyal and true, marching off to France for glory, fighting for the red, white and blue. Description of T Atkinson on enlistment height 5’7”, weight 122 lbs, chest when fully expanded
From Time’s first stirring of momentary dread Hope is crushed by tyranny where what might be lies broken Under a brightly garnered garland a siren of sweet promises. As if the stains of blood and tears were sweet red wine
I, the most perfect syllable in the world. It encapsulates me and all that is mine And all that I perceive or have perceived, All that I encountered or experienced, the Totality of my existence and its meaning To me
Hours before the birth of the gem, There was an affectionate argument between them; Her father said, ”Watch my child change the state as a minister”, To which her mom quipped, ”No she’ll deliver unbiased justice as a barrister.” When
When my spirit feels malnourished. Something in me finds the strength and courage To Read the word so I can help my spirit man flourish. Medicine for the people of the oppressed. Come unto me, all ye that labour and are
Nations and nationalities, you are not chocolate, you are the sweetest Jam cooked from bitter labour! You are the original egg, the supreme cause of war and peace! You are the homeland of the rising sun and moon. You are
July 20th, 1822. We’ve done it. As I lay down my tools for the last time, Here stands before me the fruit of my labour. This night, a technology beyond its time has been born. She truly is beautiful. A
I toil ceaselessly in the Summer, to store in barns beneath the Earth for the winter. I get scorched by the tropical Sun for a colony made sufficient, yet without exhaustion, for my instincts make me efficient. I gather, heap,
I am a creation of yours, taken after you with the same traits and a unique hue, do not have demand, do not have desire but only a need, your little time and attention, indeed. Acknowledged with the labour you
Right in the lap of dark blue hills With backdrop of snow capped peaks Blooms this fascinating garden Reflecting vibrance of Nature The mystique of flowery abundance Wraps the landscape in a charm With colors alluring and bright And sweet
Betrayals from long-ago, Resurfaced when I saw you. Though time had past, The wounds still bleed. As if the damage, Was done yesterday! No apologies ever flowed, From your evil lips. Sympathy was never implied, All I could see was
Midnight, A cold night in November. Mama braiding my hair with her hands so tender. Hearing moans of fright in the air, she said, That’s just your daddy and he’s having nightmares again. Mama why you puttin’ up all them
In a nearby flat a radio whispers, Birdsong begins its chatter in the bushes And giggling lovers tickle the dawn; Rain beats its gentle rhythms on the window, Occasional cars issue hushed rumble escapes And those still awake Wonder about
Nature’s undertaker and cleaner of bones. Making a meal of your vocation, You gather your tokens from The Reaper’s table, Peck by peck, a dissection by rip saw. Meat, by any other name, could taste no sweeter, And yet so
There are some things I have come to believe. Believe me when I say, I am not deceived. Sometimes the good die young, and never receive. Unfairness exists, and persists, though ill conceived. Sometimes everybody gets pushed around, or cheated.
Evil whispers to darkened hearts Seeds of destruction; plans for death Kill a mind, a heart, a life By choices of darkness or light Blind arrogance They can’t see themselves in the dark Lips speaking crooked lies and deceit. The
Dreamcatcher, give me a dream. Of lavender fields as far as the eyes can see. Cheery Marigolds with Sunflowers by the stream. And meandering brooks murmuring their glee. Dreamcatcher bring her a dream. Of our fun on the swing. And
Within you lies the mini universe.. Within you lies the the mini horizon.. Within you lies the mini world.. Within you lies the mini you.. What the whole world think is not important… What the whole matrix conversation about you
Selfish night, why do you make me weep? Have you no understanding of my heart? I never wanted us to part Most greedy night, why do you take away my joy? All I ever wanted was forever, most silent night
I envy the farmer’s wife Sitting beside her partner for life – Gazing together into the sunset. This togetherness is not there, We have lost it – I don’t know where. Together we sleep in a double bed – You
Celestial love, to shine the light from above and Rise against the odds. Excellence of character, not to be ranked along… But yes along the great. Loyal alliance to her majesty, family & friends. Exceptional personalized understanding of all things.
Those two twinkling eyes, Hopes and fears filled her eyes, She was scared, scared of the future She had an unknown fear deeply seated Her heart sank as she realized the truth She was not happy, She wanted to go
You have to roll a six, With four dices on the board. The odds are not in your favor, Playing a big game of chance. Critics are saying it’s impossible, But you still play in the tournament. Self-discipline increases the
Take care, my dear, of the spoken word, Bridging gaps is our guide word. A word once spoken razes mountains beyond repair, And craters of tears with endless despair. Leaves scars does a scathing word, The poisonous dagger doth stab
Feel like breaking free from all Good and bad that I recall Free from the shackles of loving souls And from the shackles of fear and doubt Wonder if all feel this way To experience hews on life’s highway. Monsoons