World War II
Learn more about other poetry terms
The battle bold, the breaths we hold, the terror we face, the horrors of Grace, The flag that flies, the women that sigh, the lines you hold, “Oh, men, be bold!”
07/20/1945 I could not see the sun setting over the sea as my windowless cage of armor raced over Bornean sands, but I knew as I loaded my Colt’s magazine with bullets and counted down the miles to the jungle
A few decades ago, there existed Die Wunderbare Republik, Everyone lived peacefully and no problems came about, Everything was perfect, symmetrical, and organized.
Tattered and torn clothes Weighted gait and pale face. The man makes his way to the piano, as if to play. Months of silence. All the time in hiding. He slowly lifts his fingers
The Eagle's Talons When I was but a boy On that day in '41 I had never seen a bomb Nor had I seen a gun. Father paid for my freedom And he'd never let it be That I would ever witness
Brace yourself Welcome help Armor up Enough’s enough Hope for the best Prepare for the worst Those are the words You used to calm me Down by the river Build a bridge
Praise be to thee
And the day that I died
Bring down the white flag and tear down the rails,
A Rest in The Forest
Red suns rise all around me. Seventeen eighteen year old warriors; Starting their one way trip across the ocean.
Fat man Sirens, "go to the shelters!" Flash, "What happened?" "Is this the end?" Gasp, "MOM!" A boy sees his mother Wait, is that his mother?
Women were once mommas. Once classy ladies And Sisters The men are all fighting Gals have replaced Their misters. No longer in dresses And ribbons,
Switch lanes, fast pace, different narrow streets Different city, different veterans sleeping on concrete Lone wolves devoured by group of carnivorous pigs Heat-fuelled MACH, punches off the judges' wig
She pressed her hands agaisnt the photographs Hoping to push away the memories Of that never forgotten past The pain The sorrow The nagging rip in her soul that she lived a life time trying to hide
We didn't understand at first The roar that shook the earth, The roar that would tear screams from our throats And shake the fear slumbering in our souls,
Hope... Hope fosters dreams, the goals in life we have from little to extreme. Hope is something we can not see, yet can fill our life with glee. Through darkness we go on to just believe.That one day this goal will be achieved.
Here amongst phonemes and graphemes I can hide the truth. Words have the power to expose, But they also hold the power to conceal. Poetry lets me play outside the laws and boundaries of prose. I can neglect the period
We are merely two mice, two out of millions. Amongst thousands of cats, they are the villains. They have taken you from me, taken you away. Oh, Anja! How I long for you, each and everyday.
The cattle car stopped, our ten day trip we hoped to be through So much hatred from a Nazi, so much hatred toward a Jew Our belongings were taken, to where we don’t know The pile of suitcases beginning to grow
Waiting. Waiting In the endless masses. Others go through the process quickly.
There once was a man named Fred Korematsu, There was no aspect that made him different from you, But one day his life changed, As he found himself bound in chains, That day was December 7th, 1941,