#wars

167 posts
  • aleesa 7w

    urban noises flow through the empty streets
    of her grey and fluid surrounded brain
    she is a city, full of chaos and havoc
    wartorn but whose ruins still smell like home
    her heart is a museum that stores memories
    and bleeds nostalgia and destroys itself
    flowers grow from her lifeless ruins
    and every sky scraper buried beneath her bones
    chases light, points towards the sky and stands still
    her castle is in flames and is wrecked by hurricanes
    that emerge from her own soul; a civil war
    self- hatred rains over her when everytime
    she kills the people residing within her concrete heart
    due to the unsettling and destructive war inside
    still she wakes up with the hope- painted
    sunflowers and learns from the fluttering butterflies
    the art of rebuilding, letting go and holding on

    ~aleesa
    ________________
    @writersnetwork @miraquill #city #wars #wod #pod

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    //of concrete hearts

  • tamanna3 10w

    there's a child crying
    in the drain nearby.
    black skin and history,
    he cries and cries
    under a sky that looks
    the same as his sides.
    he looks for a mother
    to feed him,
    she lies camouflaged
    in the rubble.
    her breasts
    - an incomplete victory.

    a pile of garbage lay near him,
    at times they whisper
    like the living,
    then resort to bangles and cutlery
    packed away haphazardly
    for an untimely escape.
    they hiss at him
    when he cries,
    like snakes devoid of venom
    slowly succumbing to
    subdued pangs of hunger.
    their country is at war
    and homes,
    a neonatal memory
    growing distant every second.
    they clutch at their guts
    that now speak
    the language of silence,
    the war has invaded
    every aspect of their existence.
    bread and butter
    - a novel history.

    the child keeps crying;
    the last laughter of home
    lay exhausted on the edge
    of his underdeveloped
    yet withering memory,
    his squalls grow weaker
    every second,
    he gasps for the tragic air
    demanding a last vision
    of his mother.
    he can't hope,
    he's too young for that;
    he can only cry.
    so he cries
    and cries
    until he's gone,
    until he's one of them,
    silence,
    death,
    dust,
    a forgotten memory.
    are all that remains
    - of him and them.

    ©tamanna3


    #wars ; those times
    when things go/are done wrong
    much like this poem I had
    written & rewritten
    many times.

    That was totally unexpected,
    Thank you, @miraquill <3��

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    WARS

    - of times and people.

  • ishubhankar 16w

    a child was born the day the war started
    a child died in shelling, a day after
    a child's parents were killed before it ended
    a child lost his limbs thereafter

    a child saw the real guns
    another shut the ears the whole night
    a child grew up on war stories, tons
    only a few will never witness the unending fight

    a child asks his mother about his soldier father
    a child screams for his dead civilian brother
    a child plays with bombshells from miles farther
    will a child see a world without wars in future?
    ©ishubhankar

  • muskangautam 17w

    Wars

    Wars will get end soon
    But not the waiting of a child
    For his marteyerd father

    Wars will get end soon
    But not the waiting of a wife
    For his beloved husband

    Wars will get end soon
    But not the waiting of a mother
    For his son

    Wars will get end soon
    But not the waiting of a family
    To get their beautiful house built up again

    Wars will get end soon
    But not the one for
    Who lost their everything
    In fighting for nothing
    ©muskangautam

  • ovais43 17w

    Now the world will witness how a war can bring peace on earth...

    We know, when it happens, only humans and humanity dies...

    ©ovais43

  • hawaii 22w

    What if....

    What if all the wars in the world ended today? What will "world peace" look like? What if that will bring us closer to the end of humanity. What if wars are slowing down the process to human extinction?
    ©hawaii

  • aabhajoshi7080 30w

    To win you have to lose
    Who has to lose, as you decide in this Truce.
    (WAR)
    &copy;aabhajoshi7080

  • beensn 38w

    Scared

    I am not scared of weapons and wars,
    I am scared of wicked and witches.
    I am not scared of the efficient rule makers,
    I am scared of inefficient rule breakers.
    I love to follow rules and laws,
    I try to maintain distance from back door entrants.
    I take pride in losing against the strongest,
    I feel pity on those who win failing to compete.
    I am glad to be with those who fight face to face,
    I feel odd with those who act false.
    I don't cry for God given troubles,
    I am fed up of 'Man created' tortures.
    ©beensN

  • kajalpawar2911 48w

    "You will experience what love is when you travel to war zones having starved and tortured children yet when asked for one wish all they wish for is to be with their parents."
    ©kajalpawar2911

  • reflections__ 49w

    Wars

    My mother taught me
    wars at home are
    never called 'wars'.

    The battlefield never
    stains with blood and
    soldiers are never martyred.

    I wish I had ended a war
    that day but I never did.
    I can still smell torn vessels
    and hear panting voices.

    My head throbs like
    it's pressed between
    blunt edges of swords.

    There's blood and no
    blood at the same time.

    A six year old wound
    near my right eye still
    gushes out cries of defeat.
    The flag wrapped with
    red cloth in my drawer
    has sucked in all agony
    of these past years.

    I've lived two decades
    of aftermath of a war
    I had never witnessed but
    born out of it nonetheless.

    It'll take another long years
    to burn every letter I've been
    writing to myself, willing a reply
    but I can't answer to a deliberate
    idiocy to accept a life born out of death.

    It hurts and it scars,
    but the world is blind;
    It has always been.
    ©reflections__

  • john_felix 54w

    Peace and Plight

    For them, they aren't always bright,
    The mornings.
    Some express hope and light
    Others drownings.
    Drownings into chaos and misery,
    Of a world in jeopardy.
    Peace lingers over our minds,
    But the sun's rays come with distress.
    They are the real humans, them.
    Those and them in the chaos,
    And those who speak of the chaos.
    It is morning where I am,
    But not so where they are.
    They know of no light,
    Just a sword and spear's fight.
    Fight! Fight to talk of their plight,
    Ignite, Ignite the spark of peace.
    For it is might
    ©john_felix

  • we_are_not_beautiful 57w

    There is something vivid about the alacrity of lexica that ooze out of my forbidden and claustrophobic thoughts, words no longer await the need to be spoken when the urge to be felt is bearing the alluring colours of cessation, but for them actions and weapons are louder than the words, bloodshed and injuries over peace and stability, they feed traumas and sufferings to the pitiable. As the winds of fiend reach the gates of paradise, with a shrewd mixture of warmth and blood, I scribble the lessons of love on the walls of scornful hatred, built by the kitsch beings, but the words of serenity are thrown onto the malicious lands. Annihilating damage within the invidious souls, I lost a piece of myself in the jaunt of fracas, though the other pieces fetter the unwillingness of people to show humanity. Exhuming the innocence of thousands, I find the exulting of mortals, very lively to be revived again. Delinquent shadows in every valley of asleep yet awake night, the footsteps are cautious to follow the sound of amenity, for there is enmity everywhere, and by the time one can solemnly express grief of the stillness of heart, there are already wars of words taking place insolently over the sounds of now dying frissons of helpless humans. At the place of war zones, there are many reaching hands within the fighting warriors, begging for someone to pull them out of the abyss of inhumanity. Flowers on the tombs, ashes of ephemeral harmony of ludic sacrificers, everything at the point of ruin rests on the cunning smiles of the tyrants. I tried bringing peace, but they dragged me down.  

    #readwriteunite #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeeworld #random #thoughts #poem #pod #quote #rwu #read #write #words #wars #warzone #peace #stability #blood
    @writersnetwork @readwriteunite @mirakee @mirakeeworld
    Is this even making sense?

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    And when the night comes, I choose to sing with many trying souls, the song of survivors. But they suppress what is lively and pleasant, they twist and turn words of humanity and present quite place of war zone, with that we sleep with the eyes hovering over ourselves. After all sleepers are deceived.


    -jayshree..

  • pallavi4 57w

    Wars inside me

    There's an alien in my head
    But it's not me
    Every time I conjure plans to run
    I'm unable to break free

    So caught up in my brain is
    The monster that lives inside
    Making me act like someone
    Whose feelings inside have died

    Akin to a lunatic, my head
    Makes deceptive, devious plans
    The damage is far greater
    Than physically hurting another man

    The craziness that resides deep
    Hidden and sometimes locked away
    Leaves me not in control at times
    Of the foul words that I say

    Unable to recognise that alien
    That stares back at me in the reflection
    I keep waging a war that I often lose
    And fall prey to my own deception

    Isolated by everyone who cannot see
    A semblance of restrain
    There's someone inside my head
    That over my senses reigns

    @pallavi4

    20th of May, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner

    #wod #alien #warsinsidec #wars #deception #monster #writersbay @writersbay @writersnetwork #writerstolli #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeeworld #readwriteunite #thepoetrycommunity #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @mirakee

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  • kikilove 64w

    Poetry

    He asked me
    Why do you write poetry
    What makes you think people
    People will read it
    Why not mope around
    Why not create a mess

    To the boy I said
    Can you not see
    Can you not imagine
    I have made a mess
    Only I can see

    Poetry is a form of aggression
    It releases stress
    Gets rid of depression
    It keeps you from drowning
    And from being vanilla
    Words are weapons

    I go to war with words
    Not with my fists
    Yes I am young in age
    But I know the secret
    To win a war use your words
    Words have won battles
    And wars
    ©kikilove

  • zubaira 76w

    In this world of wars, we just need hope to face the battles of inside.
    ©zubaira

  • kajalpawar2911 83w

    "I can end an ego in a second; but I will let your ego end you".
    ©kajalpawar2911

  • sarahrachelea 83w

    I'd rather cooperate than compete
    I choose my battles wisely
    I will not sign in meaningless fight
    Not all wars are worth winning

    ~ Peace maker
    ©sarahrachelea

  • aabhajoshi7080 86w

    To win you have to lose
    Who has to lose, as you decide in this Truce.
    (WAR)
    ©aabhajoshi7080

  • aabhajoshi7080 86w

    War

    In all the glory and stories of history
    Wars & Battles & Fights of our ancestors
    For reasons of morals, of land & of power
    And also the obsession with possession
    Some fighting merely for survival
    In these stories, their defeats & their victories
    We find ourselves in lost mysteries
    In an idea of life & in it, the fighting humanity
    Progressing as we now fight for humanity
    In this war, as we hope for victory
    I remind you of your enemy & his identity
    A lot of us mistaken in perceivings
    It's not that person you hate
    Or the one you despite out of spite
    It's not even the competitor in sight
    Ofcourse you think you are right, that he is wrong in your eyes
    let me remind you that is exactly how it is not
    Just like the sun & moon, as they rise & fall in their own time
    You too are sometimes in dark & sometimes in light
    You too are wrong & also maybe right
    Of your true enemy as i speak
    It's you and yourself you have to fight
    This isn't a war among kings for might
    This isn't a battle you could win without plight
    You have no armies or ammunitions at your side
    Your sword is the only weapon you accord
    A sword of restraint & courage & also of fear
    Not yours, but the fear you want in your dark mind
    The dillemma that you face, i now display
    To win, you have to lose
    Who has to lose as you decide in this truce
    Or let the sword be, static in it's place
    As it loses its shine, with a blunt edge as in sharpness, it declines
    The only place where you have a real choice
    Is whether to fight or to let it reside
    & the next time comes a war
    If you are a warrior or someone too weak to fight
    ©aabhajoshi7080

  • sayaliparkar 87w

    [ Anatomy of a Book]

    There's an entire world
    Breathing inside a book/
    Precious words married
    To a paper /a spine tieing
    So many lives together/ covers
    Holding beginnings and endings/
    So many wars rising
    And fading /and here I enter
    This eye of the hurricane /
    Unarmed and poised.

    -Sayali Parkar