War Poems

War poems that glorify the courage and patriotism. This collection of war poetry sings prises of heroic battles where soldiers lose their life with valour and dignity for their motherland. Every war poem is original and written with the spirit of extreme patriotism that is sure to inspire you.

The Futility Of War

The Futility Of War short poem

Death; The Dealer of the final deck of life. No hidden agendas, just a cold slate to wipe. With hand and sword or with rock and stone, with shaft sailing deadly through grey skies, alone. The smarter the weapon, the

The War Went On

The War Went On short poem

I looked into the darkness And there they were. Some were barely twenty A few a little more. They did not move, They were dead. And the war went on without them. Back into the jungle, Like deadly ghost we

Holy War- An Oxymoron

Holy War  An Oxymoron prose poem

My god’s bigger than your god! no! my god’s bigger than your god! therefore my god can beat up your god! isn’t that what gods are all about? isn’t that what gods are for? to beat each other up- you

Vile War Versus Moral Peace

Vile War Versus Moral Peace short poem

Bloodshed, bloodshed everywhere Mere violence in the air Clouds of obscurity strewn about The sky of fateful memories. A terrible terror crammed In the inner core of the heart There’s no room for mercy now Retort hatred with hatred And

War Trophies

War Trophies short poem

Hospitals are Bombed mass graves With cold bunkers And shattered artillery. Red army fights the white army Blue army fights the yellow army Drones land on the cranium Submarines torpedo through the aorta. Death is a wheelbarrow You hitch a

War Veteran

War Veteran short poem

A rock within a shell encased, lifeless and stilled. Heavier than most, despite the wear and attrition. Stone, cold and caged within. Deliberately chilled. Once, in another’s hand, cast aside like spent ammunition. Collaterally damaged, withdrawn from further crusade. Surrendered,

The War Within

The War Within ballad

A soldier has scars, wounds we can’t see A mind of unrest, a soul yearning to be free What their eyes have witnessed, one’s heart can’t comprehend The sacrifices they have made, we can’t possibly understand They are sons and

War Or Homicide?

War Or Homicide? short poem

Why? we kill, without mercy or regret yet we are still somehow human with every strike of the blade, every pull of the trigger every scream uttered every drop of blood spilled soldiers thought of as heroes but nothing more

The Face Is A War Mask

The Face Is A War Mask prose poem

The face is a war mask And the eyes are made for crying The mouth is poison And the skull a cathedral Dreams are dreamt But are not seen And sleep is slept But is not solid Blue is the

War

War short poem

It is a real fact, War is nothing but a foolish act. A bitter and waste of life war lays. That must say, war pays only grudge and strife. What a helplessness, all feel, what a dark day is seen

War Dreams

War Dreams prose poem

She builds booby traps from paper clips And ration cans while her GI lover Blows smoke rings But around here a confession constitutes A conviction even if your mouth is full of gold And yet she admits to nothing But

Understandings of War

Understandings of War sonnet poems

The world’s a puzzle of inconvenience The members who inhabit it are worse than fallen angels Ghoulishness, fears, abhorrence are their manifest examples And for them there’s palpably nothing like repentance Rare, are the souls who proliferate forbearance As malicious

A War Song Will Be Sung

A War Song Will Be Sung elegy

A song will be sung as war descends Calling on God’s invisible hand Enemies hordes crushed underfoot With no knowledge of why they came. Ships harboured in the bay Like sleeping sea serpents did they lay While out in the

Rajputs Go To War

Rajputs Go To War long poem

‘O Rana¹’ The odds are heavy The match is five to one Or may be more Our enemies united For our annihilation And knock like Ocean waves At our doorsteps Surrounded From all sides We are With no help coming

War

War short poem

Having love in our hearts and intelligence has been able to change things that no war has By making us see for ourselves how wars are always so dirty And end up in the unnecessary deaths of so many of

The Forgotten Casualties Of War: Igbobo-robert

The Forgotten Casualties Of War: Igbobo robert prose poem

Like a rumbling thunder let loose upon a recalcitrant world by the fury of nature, the sound of heavy gun shots could be heard ominously in the distance from this remote settlement where the inhabitants lurks away in the gloomy

Unending War

Unending War short poem

Preparing jaggery from palm juice the resistance is splashed on face for the vision of peace. A pre-emptive trapeze breaks the monotomy of transsexuals. Intimes of peril the ancient conflict becomes a broker to fire the night. A ball of

War

War prose poem

The whiteness in a black-spotted dove flies away from my head, each time war wakes up; A voice falls down from a window staring into emptiness, which is jammed with fragileness and trivialities, and crashes on the cracked street. Rust

World Of War

World Of War short poem

I slept, but not in peace For I dreamt of us in another place Of you in a benzene bloom Twisted and stiff in the roiling plumes Of fiery dragons eating your flesh Sucking the breath From your lungs You

War!

War! short poem

I don’t remeber what I tried to forget Lost words that were better left unspoken The days that were gone, that were never to happen again You were one in a million and I was a thousand to two Now

Reema: A Child Girl At War Time

Reema: A Child Girl At War Time prose poem

At evenings, Sun puts off her light as usual and goes behind a curtain woven by sea, rock and trees, so to have a break. Meanwhile, those with black heads and scattered hair go to warm themselves at the ember

Hero Of War

Hero Of War long poem

I was brought into this world by the miracle of birth, Just another living thing on the planet we call earth. But as time has gone beside, I was taught that I am more, I’ve been told that I am

The Garden Of War

The Garden Of War short poem

The pain in their eyes, still fresh, bleeding. I know their sleepless nights, trying to put together the missing pieces of this puzzle called life. A Poet who writes in the garden and then must write in the war, may

And So I Went To War

And So I Went To War long poem

What happened to us when we were young When I was scared about to go to war And leave the warmth of kin and home For battlefields far flung and stain the dirt Beneath my boots with blood and gore?

Poems you will love


The Difficulty Of A Memory

The Difficulty Of A Memory short poem

One difficulty still haunting him That time could not absolve Was the invisible sense that would come over him Deep in the night when suddenly, forced awake From exhaustion, he’d remember the war A village, a road, or maybe the

She

She short poem

Facing the wrath of the blazing Sun, She, with her tangled hair, toothy smile, deeply lined face ; in a coarse cotton and battered bag, walks through the lofty gates of a mansion ; A fine blend of art, wealth

Bloody Wars

Bloody Wars short poem

Blood splatter everywhere, You can hear cries in the air. Oh! There’s so much despair, Why, in war, is everything fair? Differences in colour, religion, Nose – All depends on our region. These differences, can’t we accept? Instead of killing

The Woman Sweeping Her Step

The Woman Sweeping Her Step short poem

Every morning she sweeps the dust That settles there on the step at her door And evening too again she must Sweeping away the dust from her door The dust of the trucks, the dust of our boots The dust

Kashmir Weeps

Kashmir Weeps short poem

Kashmir weeps, All her admirers abandoned, She had all to attract, The beautiful valleys, Proud and elegant mountains, Greenary,lakes and what not? A heaven on earth, Kashmir weeps, Curses its destiny, Literary turned into a military camp, Rich culture heritage

Brothers are Sleeping

Brothers are Sleeping short poem

Brothers are sleeping on the battlefield so gently.. Brothers are sleeping as if they will never wake, They are dreaming of a world where they will have no reason to fight again… Can you see? there the pilgrims are passing

The Letter

The Letter short poem

Mum, if you this letter read I beg you, let your heart not bleed I did not weather storm of night And blackness now has dimmed my light But give to me your loving smile For I’ll be gone, for

Hunting

Hunting short poem

Last night the harbourer tracked the stag to his resting place, and at sunrise made a close inspection of the perimeter of the wood, to ensure he had not escaped. When the Master heard this, and was satisfied, he ordered

We Were There

We Were There short poem

We were there, when the whistling of rifles blew And the hats of the old man into the sky they flew The cries were so awful Like the sting of a bee it was painful Yet they called for a

The Red Button

The Red Button short poem

A human myself, I would push the red button. For having seen into man’s heart, Brimming with evil. Black, Rotten. Eliminating them now, Preventing perhaps. Unending sadness, Shielding the unborn. From humanity’s touch, Painted with madness. The red button, Gleaming

Awaiting

Awaiting short poem

Was it hard to die, Arjun, So very hard to die! No songs of battle to soothe your nerves, No memory of dearest love of Krishna and her sons. Breeze blew soft from south sea against morn’s cheeks, conch shells

Tears For Her Boy

Tears For Her Boy short poem

A mother sits by a graveside, Tears rolling from her eyes She doesn’t know the reasons, The what fors or the whys. Men who wear their business suits, Who only care for oil and cash, Sent her son to faraway

POW Camp 161

POW Camp 161 long poem

It was where I learned to read, and write, and count; I counted the days. It was where I realised carrying a cello was harder than playing it. It was where I engraved my name on the playground wall, beneath

A Grand Confusion

A Grand Confusion prose poem

Do you deem it courage? Or is it a kind of outrage Sparking off the blood-hued flares Igniting all particles of wrath present in the air Curses etched on the strips of little paper Nailed into the cloth flesh of

The Gulf

The Gulf short poem

To the twinkling star, so far away. I cannot reach as I pray! For safety in your present state, Amongst a land of hate! Tears glaze my eyes,I reminisce our growing up. Denial fills my mind, I refuse to believe.

The Guests Are Here

The Guests Are Here short poem

World Wars, that should never happen… a poem on holocaust. Oh, we know, we shall see it to some day… The nights filling in, with such dread Oh no, they just cannot get us, never… We are safe in our

Road To

Road To short poem

The drone and the groan of the track upon sand As an armoured car rolls over the land Its cumbersome movement, the desert it stirs By the haze of the heat the terrain is disturbed Outside, it’s bleak, not a

Singular

Singular short poem

she wore the gold off her narrow ring on the zinc bartop tapping out an alien message unheard by the narcissists pinching each other’s cloth like bargain shoppers sniffing at the must of use and hard travel men and women

Does A Bullet Worth To Kill You!

Does A Bullet Worth To Kill You! short poem

Take cover!! There they are! Hold your fire we are running low Bombs are wet, grenades empty I hate this way of fighting… Never let your riffle fail Keep your bullet straight your eyes firm on enemy’s chest Shout in

Welcome Home Brothers

Welcome Home Brothers short poem

Taps sound, a shot is fired. An echo reverberates through the valley The splash of tear drops, The sound of muted sobs. Grieving friends and family gather For a man they hardly know. Quite and shy, a family man, For

Goodwill 1969

Goodwill 1969 short poem

Send me your sons And ask not why. Give them a hug And say goodbye. It isn’t a war, It’s just goodwill. I will take your sons And teach them to kill. It isn’t a war, It’s just goodwill: Explain

The Pressing

The Pressing prose poem

“HMS Trincomalee, British Man-O-War, sixty guns, one hundred gross tons was she, The Purser and Pressman am I, managing a pressgang in strict service of country and King. Her ships bell marking time; bosun pipes: Captain arrives! She’ll turn with

Atop A Highland Hill

Atop A Highland Hill elegy

Atop a windswept highland hill above Locheil land Clansmen gathered roun and shook the prince’s haun They raised the standard high cheered till they were hoarse Followed the flying heron across the highland gorse. A,wa tae London toon wi hopes

To Whom This May Concern

To Whom This May Concern short poem

It’s coded in war games: Bombs will have the enemies’ names Etched on them, synonymously And anonymously; For worse false or better true Bombs know neither me nor you And so have not recourse To feel pity or remorse; Bombs

Brothers In Arms

Brothers In Arms long poem

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