Poems about Revolutions

First They Came Poem (Poems about Revolutions)

When you hear of the whole idea of socialism put together in poetry and you want to imagine the impact of poetry on revolutions, this is where you can find all that “first they came poem”.

Poems about Revolutions

First they Came for Poetry (First they Came Poem)

Read the poems below to feel the full feet of world revolt experiences.

And Then They Came for Me (First They Came Poem)

First they came for the Communists

And I did not speak out

Because I was not a Communist

Then they came for the Socialists

And I did not speak out

Because I was not a Socialist

Then they came for the trade unionists

And I did not speak out

Because I was not a trade unionist

Then they came for the Jews

And I did not speak out

Because I was not a Jew

Then they came for me

And there was no one left

To speak out for me

By, Reverend Martin Niemoller


The Nightlight Revolution (First They Came Poem)

I’m a soldier in the nightlight revolution

I’m fighting the nightmares that haunt your dreams

The monsters in your closet

And the Boogeyman under your bed

One outlet at a time

I’m a silent alarm that vibrates your covers

When older brothers come in after bed time

To cover your face in shaving cream

Dip your hands in popcorn bowls of warm water

Or just slap you in the face

Sometimes they’re not that subtle

I know when there is a tooth under your bed

Or reindeer on your roof

I’ve got a motion detector to keep step fathers at bay

While your mother’s asleep

I’m his grave digger and his crypt keeper

Taking his skeletons out of the closet

And laying them in the middle of the floor

That man won’t call on you anymore

I’m a hug when all you need is a handshake

And a hold-you-all-night when all you need is a kiss on the cheek

I don’t do half-

When things go bump in the night I bump back

Never fear to close both eyes when you sleep

Dream of fairy tales, Prince Charming

Dream of Maid Marions

Waiting for your touch

Don’t fear the reaper he fears me

I am a soldier in the nightlight revolution

Armed with so much more than illumination

I crawl through the cracks in the closet door

Make their shadows cast pictures of rainbows on your wall

The Boogey Man runs from Chuck Norris

Chuck Norris runs from me

Please rest easy

Let the night take you for all it has to offer

Through star lit skies and rain filled clouds on magic carpets rides

Ocean floors and clown fish in little yellow submarines

Rain forests with koalas and parrots and panda bears

Son never fear for what the night brings near

The nightlight revolution is here

Throw your dream catcher away I will hand craft each one

Take the lavender out of the window sill

Don’t leave the door cracked

You’ve got me

I’m here

We’re all here

Soldiers of the nightlight revolution

And we will not sleep til you’re awake

By, Michael DeVoe

Revolution from the Heart of Lost Souls (First They Came Poem)

There once was a boy who was but a slender
Line in a portrait or a smudge on a fender
Nothing more than would be passed by your eye
Was the boy so young who did nothing but cry

The world was a cruel one, but he wasn’t so tainted
His picture more perfect than of David’s statue painted
But the world would soon tear this boy apart
It would end in the mind what began in the heart

You see, innocence thrives where ignorance rules
For blissfulness is the kindest of the ignorant’s tools
But this boy would be taught to feel and to hurt
His tears turned to ash as they fall from lips to dirt

He was now cold and ****** and swore
His opinions had changed when his brother died in the war
There was no point to heaven and less point to hell
When they called out your name, you either stood up or fell

Chipped bricks covered in posters past
Graffiti from people of phrases that last
Like one-liners, humorless, gaining a laugh
And the three-word with the sketch of a heart cut in half

The best philosophes of this past generation
Write thoughts on the wall from their closed imagination
And the boy with his eyes red grew darker
As he reached in his pocket and pulled out a marker

By, Jared Eli


Revolution the Course to Freedom (First They Came Poem)

Revolution the course to freedom

Revolution a season of war

A season our lands are watered with our blood shed

A season people are starved and stabbed in the untilled field

Revolution a season of blood flow which end with the interminable joy of the nation

We are the people you make fun of because we cannot speak your accents

We are the people who dose your slave works,cleans your messes after party

We are the people who pays with our lives during festival to fight to death

You laugh at us

You snub us

Because we are nothing wicked like you

Your greed would make an end to everything we have and everything we ever lived for

This is not your land, you are a total stranger

We will not allow you to deprive us of our fathers inheritance yes we will not allow you to take what is rightfully ours

We will not pay the price to your greed

We will stay, we will not go away from our land

Our forefathers have lived here since before the days, yet you want what is rightfully ours

The only thing you could offer is brutal

Death is the only thing we can understand

You make us lots of promise

Yet you offer us starvation

Your promises are empty like the belly of our children

We will fight and shed our bloods for the course of our freedom

Our blood will water the land for we will not give up without a fight

Yes we will not give up without a fight

Arise oh ye youth of slumbers

Arise oh ye prisoners of wants

For the reason to revolt is at our course

Let’s fight for what is rightfully our

Revolution the course to freedom

A course to the normal world

By, Azubuogu Chinwendu Chukwudi


You Say You Want a Revolution (First They Came Poem)

There’s a Revolution coming,
The boots are on the streets;
It’s calling from the graves,
We’re stirring from our sleep.
There’s a hunger in the eyes;
The troops are on their feet.
The revolutions’ coming
And the enemy won’t retreat.

There’s a revolution coming,
It’s coming as we speak;
The revolution’s coming,
It should be here next week.

The mob appeal
Is running lights,
Towered minions
Fight the fight
To rein in their percent,
From navel gazing heights.
Desks in towers,
Those grasping power,
Will tumble in defeat.
The gravity of their greed
Will drag them through the streets.

The bell at four
Will sound no more;
The chorus chants
For a holy war; and
Salvation for the weak.

There’s a revolution
On the way,
We’ll re-write all the laws,
We’ll line up the Romanovs,
And shake down all the Shahs.
There’s a revolution coming
And it’s coming
With just cause.

By, Francie Lynch

This poems are  all too appropriate for those who are jubilant over the silencing of conservatives. Poems like this remind you of the need to revolt whenever needed.

Daily Times Poems.

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