Poems about power



Power The Flame

Power is a living flame
Seeking its' own expansion
Devouring all in its' path
Corpulent beast
Of infinite hunger
Caring not what carnage
Burns in its' wake

flame,  power.

Author: Graff1980
Date: 07/04/2020


Healing power..

( )
( )
( ★ )
( ★ ★)
( ★★★)
( ★★ )
( ★ ★ )
˜the healing ★
˜of writing ★
˜late night ★

healing,  power.

Author: Jugnu-the firefly
Date: 05/04/2020


The Power Of The Pen

I watch them write
I see in their eyes fight
Sweet is the power of the pen

Look at them go
Not one is taking it slow
Christ, oh the power of the pen

They write as fast and concise
They are hell bent in poverty
But rich, with the power of the pen

They fell from that tree
Just like you and me
And boy do they write
That is the power of the pen

Trained to make them fast and short
In fantastic dreams and thoughts
Laced in fantasy is the power of the pen

And when their lives are over
Pushing up daffodils and clover
They will be remembered, from then
By the power of the pen

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris

pen,  power.

Author: Christos Andreas Kourtis
Date: 05/04/2020


Never Lie About Money Or Power To Your Lover

I won't lie
Not this time --
Nothing is going to happen tonight.

I may never set this right,
But this time
I'm not afraid --

Not in this light.
Not tonight.

I didn't mean to push you away --
So cross in retrospect,
I was lost in intricate
With numbers
On a screen,
It is uncanny, their
Ability to demean.

Give me the right
To sell myself
As my habit demands
Yes, like a junkie.
That's where I stand
On that.

But I won't lie
To get by.
You and I, Master,
We have to try.
My pleasure,
You said, much to my delight.
But now I'm only
Sleeping. Just like
Every other night.

With the crash of confusion
My lover is gone.
Stoically claimimg
My heedlessness
While I weep
For the loss of sweet
Time pining away
For what is gone.

I won't lie --
Not this time
Not tonight
Not for loss or love.

Instead fortune forced
My hand!
I will lie for
The sake of
Those numbers.

The ones I keep dreaming of.

As for love,
You should never have to lie for love.

lie,  lover,  money,  power.

Author: biche
Date: 04/04/2020


The moon casts power

I am over flowing.
A tempest,
Of temperamental triads and
Trebuchet casting wards past ivory towers.

My silent guardian,
Now waxes in power and glow.
It's shadow wanes from the movement
Of Whimsical celestial tops.

To natures infinite rise and fall rhythm

casts,  moon,  power.

Author: Paul Donnell
Date: 03/04/2020


Progeny To Power

I came from nowhere into the sunlight bright
Staring harsh at the way it looked when released
From the thick of dark dank open spaces
Of the mind like skyscrapers
Looming in awe at unopened alleyways.

Writers and Poets with dark and dense language
Lurked on every page offering
Wisdom and wonder at all that existed
And I was taken aback by the grit and gristle
Of their tongues in torture and bonehard
Determination to say things real and true.
My first lesson was obedience
At the citadels of learning.

Soon the words began to form and fix
In the minds eye, each picture drafted
In the souls eternal fire of seeking solace
From within a lone slim space of knowledge.
We were wild then, travelling in jungles
Where beasts roamed with hookahs and chains
And belted the night with rabid beats
Of rhymes and rhythm bongo drums
That cascaded through waterfalls of lust
And loneliness.

Woodstock soon came around with a growl
From Hendrix and a soulful guitar solo
That lifted our energies beyond mud
And music into higher ground where
Love and peace co-existed with boundaries
And lines of policemen with batons.

Soon we loved each other on the streets
Of shame uncaring for the masses that lay
Strangled by traditions of the old
And battered regimes. Our music carried
Us into a universal song which started
Then and never stopped four decades gone.

What we started in those freedom years
Still parades the streets of our individualism
Today with a different costume.
The shackles that we unchained
Were replaced by those who felt burdened
By the guilt of freedom and excess.

Even today the Capitols burn with angry mobs
Tearing political fences and building barricades
Of stone hard determination and raised fists
In defiance of subjugation and slaughter
As they race towards a wide open gate
Where walls and sniper windows do not
Get them down fast enough.

The cities will continue to burn
To mark the decades we bled loose
The power from dictators armoured carriers
And concubines of greed and injustice
As we ourselves built shells of steel
Around our embattled homes and liberties.
Freedom is a right. It will be fought.

In every continent there burns a bonfire
Lit by few that smoulders and shudders
In the rubble of military might
But that will not deter the protection
And peace. The bonfires are fed by the few
Who boiled their blood in their thinking
For all the others.

Over the radio and tv promises will
Echo hollow and insipid as the faces
Of the masters who seem impervious to pain
And unwilling to smear the ashes of their own born
Against their foreheads of power.

A time will come when peace will settle again
And the rousing reception of rain bearing
Clouds will cool the tempers of the trusted
And the untrusted.

We will soon be gone but we leave a legacy
Of will that will course through the veins
Of our children and grandchildren
And for years to come the poems
We write will stand testimony to the demons
We locked back into the cages of the past.

The power to pen will return to the people.

Author Notes
I come from a generation that tasted freedom from traditions in the best way possible. Four decades on that unshackling still unfolds. This poem talks of that transition. It is long and will continue on and on until that bonfire subsides!
Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.

power,  progeny.

Author: Marshall Gass
Date: 03/04/2020




He never had this power
That satisfied himself—
'Twas difficult to compensate
In seeking what he left.

With paradise above the years,
He exhausted for an hour;
A prayer occupied his skin
And agonize no more.



Author: Evan Miguel Sebastian
Date: 01/04/2020


The Power of Beer

A burnt arrow
A battered door
A land lay fallow
The moats filled shallow

A catapult without stone
A wheelless ram
Empty fire pits
Uninhabited tents

What may this be?
Has the siege extended man's reach?
Or has the city already been breached?

The wind whispers
While silence reigns
But then
Someone came

"Guten tag", says the German traveller.
"Freibier at the pub... "
"ja? "

beer,  power.

Author: WJ Niemand
Date: 31/03/2020