Power Poems | Best Poems about Power


    Closed Path Poem by Rabindranath Tagore

    I thought that my voyage had come to its end
    at the last limit of my power,- -that the path before me was closed,
    that provisions were exhausted
    and the time come to take shelter in a silent obscurity.

    But I find that thy will knows no end in me.
    And when old words die out on the tongue,
    new melodies break forth from the heart;
    and where the old tracks are lost,
    new country is revealed with its wonders.



    The Quality Of Mercy Poem by William Shakespeare

    The quality of mercy is not strain’d.
    It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
    Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:
    It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes.
    ‘Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
    The throned monarch better than his crown.
    His scepter shows the force of temporal power,
    The attribute to awe and majesty,
    Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
    But mercy is above this sceptered sway;
    It is enthroned in the heart of kings;
    It is an attribute to God himself;
    And earthly power doth then show likest God’s
    When mercy seasons justice.



    The Happiest Day, The Happiest Hour Poem by Edgar Allan Poe

    The happiest day- the happiest hour
    My sear’d and blighted heart hath known,
    The highest hope of pride and power,
    I feel hath flown.

    Of power! said I? yes! such I ween;
    But they have vanish’d long, alas!
    The visions of my youth have been-
    But let them pass.

    And, pride, what have I now with thee?
    Another brow may even inherit
    The venom thou hast pour’d on me
    Be still, my spirit!

    The happiest day- the happiest hour
    Mine eyes shall see- have ever seen,
    The brightest glance of pride and power,
    I feel- have been:

    But were that hope of pride and power
    Now offer’d with the pain
    Even then I felt- that brightest hour
    I would not live again:

    For on its wing was dark alloy,
    And, as it flutter’d- fell
    An essence- powerful to destroy
    A soul that knew it well.



    Anc And The Struggle Poem by Chinedu Dike

    January 1912, Mzansi brought forth a child
    In a harsh political climate
    Destined to free her people
    Bound to cruel Fate
    Long Live Child Of Necessity!
    Viva ANC!

    His growth fraught with perils
    But nurtured by sons and daughters of the soil
    Deprived of dignity and birthright
    Whose principal offence is not being ‘White’
    Long Live Son Of The Soil!
    Viva ANC!

    His clarion call an impetus to the Struggle
    Unifying localized forces of Freedom
    Into mass-based Liberation Movement
    Brought into the realm of Global Awareness
    Long Live Symbolic Leader Of The Struggle!
    Viva ANC!

    Fighting against enormous odds
    Together with hopeful but ill-equipped natives
    Onto the spirit he anchored Power
    Victory guaranteed on Resolve
    Long Live Son Of Hope!
    Viva ANC!

    Braving the slammer, torture, bullet…
    Massacre of his warriors the order of the day
    Energized by tears and blood of compatriots
    Civil Disobedience intensify with Sabotage
    Long Live The Indomitable Warrior!
    Viva ANC!

    At long last, victory and jubilation
    Forces of Liberty topple forces of Oppression
    Embracing ‘no winner no loser’ notion
    He calls for ‘Rainbow Nation’
    Long Live Son Of Liberty!
    Viva ANC!

    Long Live The Symbol Of Human Dignity!
    Viva The Legacies Of African National Congress!



    Happy The Man Poem by John Dryden

    Happy the man, and happy he alone,
    He who can call today his own:
    He who, secure within, can say,
    Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.
    Be fair or foul or rain or shine
    The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine.
    Not Heaven itself upon the past has power,
    But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.



    Cologne Poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

    In Köhln, a town of monks and bones,
    And pavements fang’d with murderous stones
    And rags, and hags, and hideous wenches;
    I counted two and seventy stenches,
    All well defined, and several stinks!
    Ye Nymphs that reign o’er sewers and sinks,
    The river Rhine, it is well known,
    Doth wash your city of Cologne;
    But tell me, Nymphs, what power divine
    Shall henceforth wash the river Rhine?



    Absolute Power Poem by Rose Marie Juan-austin

    He was selected
    From among the finest
    Of all men
    To carry the loads
    Of millions of fathers.

    He got hundreds of millions of children
    With multitude personalities
    Some are in the right wing
    Others are in the left wing
    Still others are moderates.

    He holds great power
    Vested by the millions
    He watches over
    Yet, his authority is clipped
    With checks and balances.

    He got noble intentions
    Initiated reforms
    For the good of all
    Majority submitted to his power
    Others desperately wanted him gone.

    He reached the fork in the road
    And he tightened his grip
    To his power
    Changed tactics
    And ruled with an iron fist
    Cut the tongues of his children
    And broke their wings.

    He tasted
    The absolute freedom to rule
    Like a wine
    He wanted more
    Intoxicated by the desire
    To be the first in everything
    The one who has been told finest
    Has turned into a beast.



    Soldier’s Dream Poem by Wilfred Owen

    I dreamed kind Jesus fouled the big-gun gears;
    And caused a permanent stoppage in all bolts;
    And buckled with a smile Mausers and Colts;
    And rusted every bayonet with His tears.

    And there were no more bombs, of ours or Theirs,
    Not even an old flint-lock, not even a pikel.
    But God was vexed, and gave all power to Michael;
    And when I woke he’d seen to our repairs.



    Apparently With No Surprise Poem by Emily Dickinson

    Apparently with no surprise,
    To any happy flower,
    The frost beheads it at its play,
    In accidental power.
    The blond assassin passes on.
    The sun proceeds unmoved,
    To measure off another day,
    For an approving God.



    I Have No Power Poem by Nizar Qabbani

    ‘I have no power to change you
    or explain your ways
    Never believe a man can change a woman
    Those men are pretenders
    who think
    that they created woman
    from one of their ribs
    Woman does not emerge from a man’s rib’s, not ever,
    it’s he who emerges from her womb
    like a fish rising from depths of water
    and like streams that branch away from a river
    It’s he who circles the sun of her eyes
    and imagines he is fixed in place

    I have no power to tame you
    or domesticate you
    or mitigate your first instincts
    This task is impossible
    I’ve tested my intelligence on you
    also my dumbness
    Nothing worked with you, neither guidance
    nor temptation
    Stay primitive as you are

    I have no power to break your habits
    for thirty years you have been like this
    for three hundred years
    a storm trapping in a bottle
    a body by nature sensing the scent of a man
    assaults it by nature
    triumphs over it by nature

    Never believe what a man says about himself
    that he is the one who makes the poems
    and makes the children
    It is the woman who writes the poems
    and the man who signs his name to them
    It is the woman who bears the children
    and the man who signs at the maternity hospital
    that he is the father

    I have no power to change your nature
    my books are of no use to you
    and my convictions do not convince you
    nor does my fatherly council do you any good
    you are the queen of anarchy, of madness, of belonging
    to no one
    Stay that way
    You are the tree of femininity that grows in the dark
    needs no sun or water
    you the sea princess who has loved all men
    and loved no one
    slept with all men… and slept with no one
    you are the Bedouin woman who went with all the tribes
    and returned a virgin
    Stay that way.’