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Death Patriotic Poems | Death Poems About Patriotic

These Death Patriotic poems are examples of Death poems about Patriotic. These are the best examples of Death Patriotic poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

Soldier

I saw a burial with a bugler playing taps;
I turned to my father, “what happened?” I asked.
He clutched my hand and with a quiver in his voice,
he began to explain and his eyes became moist.

“My son,” he said, “this is rather difficult for me;
for an old veteran like myself this is tough to see.
In that coffin lies a genuine patriotic warrior,
an honest-to-God hero, an American soldier.

I appreciate that soldier and the service he gave,
and I honor his sacrifice as he’s laid in his grave.
He was honorable, selfless, courageous, and bold;
please remember him son, as you grow old.

The value of his service, I must explain,
if not remembered, will be lost in vain.
As a nation we’re nothing without soldiers like him;
and failing to remember would be a terrible sin.”

I listened in awe as my father spoke,
it seemed as if his heart were broke.
I suddenly remembered when he went to war,
and when he returned I thought nothing more.

I never asked why he walked with a limp,
and I didn’t care about why he was sick.
I was too busy enjoying the life that I had,
to realize that I had it because of dad.

I finally understood what my dad was about,
and it hurt so bad I cried out loud.
He sacrificed so much so I could be free,
and his battle scars were suffered for me.

It was my father’s spirit that spoke to me that day;
thank God I finally understood what he had to say.
I saluted his coffin as they laid him to rest,
and I thought about the medals pinned on his chest.

That I didn’t honor him sooner, I will always regret;
and I pledged that day to never again forget.
I’m proud that my dad was a patriotic warrior;
I’m honored to be the son of an American soldier. 


Details | Epitaph | |

The Day the Eagle Cried

We will never forget exactly where we were, 
	We will never forget exactly what we were doing, 
		We could never forget the loss we felt – 9/11/01.

We saw the birth of amazing heroes,
	We mourned with the grief of thousands,
		We marveled at the strength of the human spirit.

It was the day we held our children more closely,
	It was the day the American Family was reborn,
		And the day we became “One Nation, Under God.”

We heard those resounding words, “A plane hit the tower”,
	We watched in disbelief as the second tower fell to earth,
		And we heard the most heroic of words, “Let’s Roll!”

There were so many lessons that we learned,
	There are so many memories to be held dear,
		There was “Old Glory” – still standing to give us hope.

Firemen, Policemen, Clergy and Civilians-
	Were taken from us in a few fleeting moments,
		We saw a flight of angels, and an Eagle cry.

We became the strongest and most formidable of enemies,
	The most united in spirit and purpose in decades,
		We were filled with renewed honor and pride.

Yes, we lost the very innocence of our being,
	We lost the complacency of everyday routine,
		But yet we gained so much more.

For now we know the true meaning of so many, many words –
	“Indivisible”, “In God We Trust”, “United We Stand”
    		and the most important of all -
			“Greater Love Hath No Man Than This”…


Details | Verse | |

Ding Dong The Wicked Witch is Dead

Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Thatcher’s dead.

Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Thatcher’s dead.

Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Thatcher’s dead.

Its times like this I’m sad I’m an atheist
And can only shout and wave my fist
And then go to the pub and get pissed
Thatcher’s dead.


Details | Elegy | |

Running

I've trained for this. 
Lungs burning, muscles twitching
as I close in
on the line-
24,25,26.
I see them clearly now-
My wife, my child-
smiling, cheering
as they urge me
through the echoes
of feet smacking
pavement,
through my 
tunneled view of
the victory line,
through my exhaustion,
through my pain.

I've trained for this.
Lungs burning, muscles twitching
as I close in on my targets.
Thousands! There are many!
I can see them clearly now-
a woman, a child-
smiling, cheering
as I slip past
and drop my bags.
And now I am
running
through the 
smoke and through the
screams as runners push
toward the finish line
without legs.

I've trained for this.
Lungs burning, muscles twitching
as I close in
on the scene.
175, 176...
I see them clearly now-
the woman, the child-
lifeless, bleeding
as they urge me
through echoes 
of feet smacking
pavement,
through my
tunneled view of 
torment and death and
I can do nothing but
hold their hand.


Details | Epitaph | |

The Unknown Soldier

I stand at your grave.
I do not know your name.
I know not where you are from.
Where you fought,
nor where you died.

The horrors and pain you suffered,
were not in vain.
The death and destruction brought you pain.

I weep at your grave,
for the life you gave.
I weep for the Mother,
that gave you that life.

I kneel before your grave.
I bow my head in gratitude to you,
The Unknown Soldier.
Forever Remembered.


Details | Epitaph | |

John F Kennedy

John F. Kennedy 1917-1963 The great 35th president of US It wasn't really a success He tried to stop the missile bases There were lot of angry faces When there was about to be a war Peace was what he asked for Texas was the place he was shot Later, the criminal was caught He didn't survive the pain His people cried like the rain


Details | Rhyme | |

Kingdom Lost

In summertime, the ivy climbs,
and hides the castle wall.
The king dreams of late,
that the sea is so great,
and yet - his boat is so small.
As swift as a fox and
dark as a raven on wing,
seven hundred soldiers march  
into the valley of the king.
Long overdue, a battle ensues
flanking the powers that be.
Children cry, and good men die, 
the monarch is now on his knee…
Soon the horsemen alone 
try to maintain the throne.
But the long way around
is the shortest way home.
The evening is filled
with chaos and smoke,
and the kingdom is 
stunned by it all…
Soon the sun will go down,
and in spite of his crown, 
the king will undoubtedly fall…
His rival’s strength
was mistaken,
by a king overtaken,
his life is now but a pawn.
His authority lifted,
the power has shifted –
an era of glory is gone…
 
 
Copyright © 2013
 


Details | Free verse | |

If Old Men Fought

An old man looking out his door,
gaze fixed on a distant shore,
reminiscing to a time, not of happiness,
or, the prospect of a bright future,
to when he was sick to his very core,
to when as a youth, he went to war

A time before infallibility had meaning,
patriotism and bravado the craze,
the future was still unknown,
vigor for life at its all time high,
a time for romance, partying, buying,
no thought of pain, deformity, dying

Too young to understand or question,
ship to foreign shore, medals abound,
will impress the girls next time in town,
sacrifice not temporary,
forever more,
a legacy etched into a wall, few will remember,
flesh shredded, burned, torn,
families mourn

A time, when he willingly went to war,
will happen no more,
all lost in youth, now unrelenting,
no blind obedience,
minimal risk,
long life, his number one ambition

As he turns back from the door,
he thinks of the youth,
here now, soon no more,
lessons never learned,
the call to war,
to common the roar,
complacency the mood,
another generation removed

The old man agonizes
over what was originally not known,
war is preventable,
life too precious to waste,
the solution simple,
his vision, maybe too late

Send old men to the front to fight,
arthritis, heart disease, poor eyesight,
let the youth enjoy their life,
his near over, its only right

Send old men, to the front, to fight
ask them to give up their life,
patriotism and bravado, still alive,
will and desire would not last the night,
old men do not rush to death in their twilight,
failure inevitable, the old man smiles,
knows he's right

Wars not possible,
if old men, are sent to fight


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Freedom Uprise

We will not ride alone on this momentous journey. 
We will ride gathering our numbers, from the great mountains. 
We will travel to the valley of rivers, towards the great ocean.
For we have a great army.

Those who enslaved us with their power, stand on the top of the hill.
They stare down over the army below.
An army of vengeance we have gathered.
We will ride to the battle field at the great buildings.

Our intent is to wage war.
Fear will not take us.
You are weak supremacy, you will die by the sword. 
You will die by the hand of my fellow warriors.

This is war.
Blood will be spilt. 
Men will draw their last breaths as they fall back onto mother earth.
Mother Earth will soak up the spilled blood of our brothers and sisters.


We will be fierce and haste not.
We the suppressed will not retreat.
We the people will rise, with swords and fists. 
We are ready to die for what is equitably ours.

This is not an illusion. 
The fight against the money mongers, the powers that be.
Those that hold the power, will feel our angry wrath.
None will go unscathed.

We will watch the blood spill in and about the great buildings. 
Down the concrete stairs it will flow, rich, deep cherry red. 
Into the green of the grass, it flows.
Fear will choke your breath.

Reflections of your past, rushing before you. 
Thoughts of the dead, invade your mind.
Hollow is the cry of war, as we charge ahead to fight the battle.
To take the final stand, to give it our all.

Justice will reign by the sword and the all mighty hand.
Judgement day has arrived with this great army gathered beside us.
We will ride, steadfast into the fray.
Make no mistake this day will come upon the powers that be.


Details | Free verse | |

The Old Salt

The Old Salt was a special man who came along in a time
when he was needed most.

A time that is now gone forever.
When men believed and sacrificed, when hero’s walked the earth in mass.

When patriotism was not just a word
but,
by what men lived and judged the worth of each, 
a man who lived a life most of us cannot comprehend. 

An era now gone as this warriors tour of duty ends at this station, 
and begins anew in the heavenly fleet. 

Sail on Sailor into your unaccompanied tour,
we salute you.

What greater honor, that when a man moves forward, 
he leaves behind in each of us the best of what he was. 

A defender, protector, supporter, victor, a warrior, 
the last of the breed from an era when ships were made of wood
and men were made of steel.

The Old Salt has reported for duty that takes him away from us for now. 

Those of us who remain behind,
remember, and will continue to remember, 
because he now resides forever in our hearts.

As I look up at night, I envision The Old Salt,
a beret draped just above the eye, 
as he draws upon his pipe, 
quietly he waits.
The guardian of heaven’s gate.



Details | Free verse | |

Last Kiss

Open your eyes to the ever turning skies 
I want to here with me through the night 
My heart yearns into your soul 
Burning as if newly lit coal 
I bravely submerg the embers 
That the time I have can be spent with you 
And I remember each kiss every moment 
I was caught in your love that for just this day I remember 
So what happened was a chance for your love 
A time that I kept in a locket tied with a kiss 
 I wanted you to feel, to love, to slumber 
And to awake in my arms with that times kept bliss 
I lay silient in an umber


Details | Senryu | |

Senryu 2

they pledge allegiance
brave soldier does not return
flag folded with care

© Donna Jones 


Details | Rhyme | |

4 - Messenger from the Dead

Alas there is no more confusion,
finally found my last conclusion.
Expect me as if Jesus will return,
from a ghost to a realm of concern.

Your dreams are portals like doors,
welcoming spirits into hasten wars.
Leaving the thoughts without trust,
keeping your fears in much disgust.

And though you sought no consequence,
deeds that confirm a wicked malevolence.
Awaiting in your nightmare of screams,
enjoy what is left amongst your dreams.


Details | Epic | |

Come By the Sword, Die By The Sword

the blood of soldiers shouting for justice.
the battle field tells a story of defeat.
come by the sword,die by the sword.
bears  million of widows and orphan souls.

tragic memories of wounded hands.
rebels and soldiers cursed as one.
fighting for beliefs and motherlands.
mislead the future of their loved ones.

light of sun rays shining bright that morn.
forsaken land of Sheol will be abandoned.
blood in their hands washed off by tears.
flesh of cadavers buried on dreams.

the King of kings will stand up alone.
the sword of justice will save on His throne.
no other leaders will stand up above.
devil's sword will be home of a dove.


Details | Ballad | |

The ballad of Tich Thomas

The Ballad of Tich Tomas
.
A dog was howling in the night
Perhaps she knew the truth
That Tich would not be coming home
This dog needed no proof
That the man who she loved so
He’d come to her no more
Because Lance corporal Thomas was
 A victim of the war.

Now Tich, he was a country boy
His farm it was his life
A boon to his community
He’d give in times of strife
He learned his trade in farming school
With honours he’d come through
Then settled down to work his farm
That’s what he planned to do.

But then, one day it came to him
The news he did not need
He’d been called up for army life
He went off without heed
To do his time in Puckapunyal
To get him set for war
He soon made it as Infanteer
So he joined a fighting corp

He worked real hard and gained a stripe
This showed he had potential
He earned his skills in jungle fighting
And then there came the call
For he to go to Vietnam
To five RAR he was sent
Charlie company was his unit
When off to war he went

It was in April sixty six
Our man went into battle
There in the Phuc Tuy provence
Those guns did roar and rattle
Our Tich he fought real gallantly
So brave was he, but then
The shrapnel done it’s evil job
He joined the fallen men.

They brought his body back to those
Who were waiting for him there
The whole town came to welcome him
And helped with grief and prayer
They buried him with all the honours
That came to fighting souls
Who died to keep their country free
Courageous in their roles.

More honour it was placed on him
By the country where he’d fought
They built a statue in his name
And his likeness it was caught
By the sculptor who did honour him
And carve him into stone
And now Tich Tomas guards the park
As he stands there all alone.

If you’re ever down in Nannup town
Go to the park that’s there
You’ll see the statue of young Tich
As his spirit everywhere
Will fill the souls of those who see
This fighting man, so brave
Who’s body lies so peacefully
In his own town, in a grave.

2007


Details | Free verse | |

The Strand

This expanse of land has seen things. 
Things all of us can only see in dreams.
It's seen war, it's gotten it's fair share of scars.
Bombs bursting, bullets throwing sand into the air like it's a volleyball tournament.
The sand running red with blood silently mocking our arteries.

This magnificent stretch of land has seen heroes' tears fall; dropping to their knees while sadness envelopes their fallen brothers but also looking up to their beloved whilst carrying a ring in their hand. 

It's seen bright days, the sun glimmering over wet sand, footprints of past loves being washed away as the sun smacks the horizon. 

This expanse of land...has seen things we can only imagine.

T.K


Details | Rhyme | |

An Amulet of Peace

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
An AR16 rifle in my hands….
Seemed like such a paradox,
In the paddies and jungles of Vietnam.

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
A man’s life was in my hands….
That life was not only mine,
While trying to survive in Vietnam.

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
Hoping for guidance by God’s hand….
Ignore our sin, keep us alive and safe,
While fighting in Vietnam.

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
My duffel bag in my hand….
After 13 months, I was going home,
No more to fight in Vietnam.

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
An Honorable Discharge in my hand….
Only to be spat upon, called ‘baby killer’,
By ‘peaceniks’ against the war in Vietnam.

An amulet of peace no longer hung ‘round my neck,
The challenge of a new life was at hand….
Found love, happiness and some success,
And tried not to think of Vietnam.

Again, that same amulet of peace hangs ‘round my neck;
And I hope my friends all understand….
I want our courageous young men and women
Out of Iraq and Afghanistan.


Details | Nonet | |

Death of Freedom

(Nonet)



The heart of the eagle fills with grief
as she flies over our nation
and sees the death of freedom.
Her tears fall over all
America, land
of tyranny,
no longer
of the
free.

June 16, 2013


Details | Rhyme | |

The Price of Patriotism

I was a normal kid with normal dreams.
I liked my friends and my sports teams.
But that was before I heard the screams,
and now I am busting at the seams.

My name is Barton and I am proud to serve.
I have a hometown I'd like to preserve,
and I'd rather participate than merely observe.
I am not a fighter, but I've got the nerve.

They say innocence dies first in war.
A truth I find increasingly hard to ignore.
For now my brain is filled with unwanted gore,
all of which was non-existent before.

My name is Barton and I am a soldier.
My courage wanes as my heart grows colder.
My will falters as the war grows older,
for more than a gun rests on my shoulder.

I carry the memories of every brother I've lost,
as well as the face of every enemy I've crossed.
Coming to the truth that war carries quite the cost,
frozen in my mind like a flower in the frost.

My name is Barton and I'm ready to put down my gun.
This fighting is pointless and I'm all too ready to be done.
I refuse to be responsible for taking another mother's son.
My only goal now is go down before this setting sun.

The allure of life after this war has lost its luster,
Too many bombs and my thoughts begin to fluster.
Lady luck has left me no choice but to trust her.
So I gather all of the strength I can muster.

My name is Barton and here I make my stand.
From the shore I run through blood stained sand.
Up the hill, into the bunker, at least that's what was planned.
Eliminate the battery with the primed explosives in my hand.

The incoherent thoughts fade as I rush my final goal.
The bullets pierce my flesh, but it's an inconsequential toll,
for I knew my fate before leaping from that fox hole.
I'd rather die a hero than return home callous with no soul.

My name is Barton and I died so I wouldn't dream another day,
For the Barton who left to go to war got lost somewhere along the way.


Details | Free verse | |

An American Hero


                          for fallen soldiers

I watched the bad news on TV again...
A young soldier came home in a coffin.

He is someone's Son, Daughter, Grandson, Granddaughter,
Brother, Sister, Friend, Husband, Wife, Father or Mother:

        who will never smile and hug his parents,
        who will never love and kiss his spouse,
        who will never enjoy and play with his kids,
        who will never laugh and talk with his friends,
        who will never wear his military uniform,
        who will never, ever be again around us...

He, who gave his life, is an American Hero:
an American Son or American Daughter. 

We will remember You, Soldier.


Details | I do not know? | |

Chris Kyle the Great Sniper

Before you read this poem, I would like to invite you in reading about the great American sniper hero. I am also dedicating this to the fallen sniper because he is a true Patriotic Hero. Thank you.

Chris Kyle was and still is loved by many, this to be true I say
I always believe him to be, a great sniper to this undying day.
Why must things happen to people, that are always so kind
Life would be better keeping some, alive alongside mankind.

Why don’t I tell you a story, about this very kind honest fellow
He was and is an U.S. Navy Seal, but along that chill and mellow.
The most lethal sniper known of, in American military history
With a very high percentage confirmed kills, quite the victory.

At the young age of eight, his father taught him how to shoot
A great father teaching a son, instead of giving him the boot.
A bronco rider for the rodeo, sadly gave it up for a serious injury
It was to his arm although he still lived, with very great dignity.

Being a great sniper had an effect, putting souls to their bed
Eventually somewhat famous, an increasing bounty upon his head.
Undoubtedly dubbed the “Devil of Ramadi”, by non-other than Iraqi
An increasing bounty shot twice, but his body and will still intact.

After a while serving his country, he retired heading home graciously
Taking back some long spent  time, spending it with his family.
Chris Kyle a loved husband, a friend to many and a beloved son
His homeland now saddened, for America has lost a patriotic one.

A great warrior indeed, in my opinion our greatest honorable hero
He put his life on the line, instead of becoming the common zero.
The greatest treasure of all, came from within himself to prove
That all humans aren’t wrongful, but that we all can improve.


Details | Lyric | |

unnecessary chains

driving home
another late shift 
work long hours just 
to make dues
when the money I received 
gets paid back to you. 
lurking in the shadows
a man that has no soul
looking for ways to make
them like him more
his face is fresh I speak the truth
but justice isn't there...
all he cares is bonuses they set for him 
to slayer. 
corruptness lies where there is debt
and in our debt lies chains
the ones who say we're free are lame to think
its not a game. 
a joke, lies go up in smoke
as he goes home, with his bonus, alone.
wishing his dick was a little bigger. 
wishing the white girl loved him as much as she loves
the man he took away. 
Unnecessary Chains. 
Unnecessary Chains. 
his fresh robotic face
a disgust to the human race.


Details | I do not know? | |

Good Morning, Apocalypse Now : A Tribute to a Vietnam Veteran

Untitled 5
(My Uncle: Good Morning, Apocalypse Now)

My uncle doesn't speak much
about Vietnam or the stuff
he witnessed when he 
was just a boy. See,
he likes to drive the back roads fast 
and honk at random cars that pass.
His friendly gestures always lead to how
he grew up compared to kids now. 

Jumping and racing trains on the tracks
became dodging bullets and carrying his buddy on his back.
The marshes and dirt valleys here
became the forests and trenches of the military frontier. 

Last year, my sister donned his jacket
a fatigued fatigue that hung in his closet. 
In color and memory darkened,
kept out of sight for fear it would harken
the PTSD he's stuggled to avoid. 

He saw his brothers, young like him
to Vietnam succumb
while on American soil
and he promised he would never speak,
for fear his stomach would coil, 
when remembering rice - a dish he no longer enjoys.
And there's no orange on his clothes to remind him of the agent that destroyed.

When he speaks a calm 
"Good morning", I wonder if he's thinking of Vietnam
or if he knows
that I admire his strength and 
bravery and how 
he continually fights against 
the "Apocalypse Now".


Details | I do not know? | |

COME FLY WITH US

    COME FLY WITH US
We need you to get on them airplanes
and fly.
Come fly with us
come fly lets fly today.
Fly to Dizzyland.
Fly to New Yolk and spend money.,
You are safe
we have US Sky Marshalls
in our airplanes
and the Stewardass's know karati, kung fu, jui jitsui
and artificial percperation.
If nothing else works,
our generals have permission to
shoot airplanes down.
Come fly today. 
And if the fighter pilot
misses his shot,
we gots a few
drones.
We gots big drones n itty bitty drones
high flyin drones and hop skotchin drones
We gots heat seekin drones
and winndow peekin drones.
Andy of our drones
can blow anything
out'n the sky.
See y'all is safe.
Come fly with us today.
Come fly today.
© Ron Wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet


Details | Acrostic | |

COMPATRIOTS

                       COMPATRIOTS


Compatriots , where are you compatriots ?
On our a nation let’s pause a bit:
Money , money , money , money... 
Peace dying, children crying
All moving as if all is well
Take a look  at what nation has become :
Riots in south , terrorists in north ;
In the land of our births
Only God can say who is next
Thousand today, thousand tomorrow
Shame , what a shame !!! 


Details | Free verse | |

BRAVE LESS


Coward, are those
Who are afraid of change
For change might deprive them
Their Freedom, their Democracy
The liberty to choose
The liberty to live
The liberty not to do such duties and obligations
The liberty to stir the law
The liberty to engage in such activities
That provides them the luxury of life

Coward, are those
Officials who implements the Law
For the National Security
For which this protected island
Free from oppression of the foreign entity
But not from their own race
People versus people
Officials Versus citizen
Equality is futile
Law is equality
Doomed are those who resist Law
Dead are those who oppose them

Coward are those who are living in the castle
An epitome of good family
A picturesque nation and rich culture
For their lives are at stake
Only and if only risks are taken

Have you ever seen any purest intentions?
Of promoting the general welfare
If life is the fee
For a glimpse of nationalism

Will you be willing to give all?
Declare war against the offenders
Be vigilant to the oppressors
Of own kind and own people
To carry out the true sense of leadership
Pity for no such word fits to anyone
For no one chooses to die

Coward, are those people
Who care less or nothing at all
Little they know
That the liberty of today
Sheds blood in the past

A little eloquence of your tongue
To make a stand
Nevertheless to choose between black or white 
Was not an option
But to remain the tranquility of your existence
You are nothing compared to a feeble mule

Coward, are those youth
Who doesn't apply the sanctity of morality
Especially disrespects elder
For nothing you know
Nothing at all
That your freedom came into reality
If not because of the of the old ones
Whose beliefs your could architect change
Ever faithful to your caliber
Projects future in your hands
Was He who thought that
You are our last hope
Is an unsuccessful prophecy?
Such disappointment
Such disillusionment
Such failure

Coward, are those people 
Who pretend to be brave
Mumble a lot and speaks crap
For braveness is pure and bold
It is selfless and competent
It comes inevitably 
To those who willingly accepts
Hungrily fights and struggles their fate

He works untiringly and tolerates justice
For the salvation of liberty
To remain freedom

He defends the truth and righteousness
For the majestic good
Live in pain and agony
Let his soul be tormented 
For his reasons shall prevail
For the sake of his belief, he shall be in despair
He welcomes death
That concludes his serene patriotism…#


Details | Haiku | |

The Great War

Scores of suffering stalwart soldiers stand steadfast in scarlet-soaked soil ----------------- (C) John C Michaels, 2014 Submitted on the centenary of The Great War (4th August 2014), in memory of the sacrifice of those who are no longer with us and to whom we owe so much.


Details | Acrostic | |

HIDDEN WOUNDS

Honestly, I do not know how to exist most days.
I survive each day, with memories of,
Damages done in battle.
Destruction, chaos, horror;
Everywhere I turn I see violence and death.
Nightmares haunt me every night.

Wounded warrior, you cannot see my scars.
Over there is where my mind returns to;
Useless is how I feel sometimes when the tears flow.
No, you may never understand my battle,
Demons surround me always, invading every safe place.
Survivor; I served for freedom’s sake.


Details | I do not know? | |

THE WAY WAR VETERANS SUFFER FOR OURS HARD WORK

I look and saw how much war veterans like me suffer when we come back from war,We don't have anyone to comfort us,the power is on the side of those that beat us down,I look and saw how much war veterans like me suffer with tears in ours and sadness on ours faces,We don't have anyone to comfort us,the power is on the side of those that beat us down,I look and saw how much war veterans like me suffer,where we should be treated right,we are treated wrong,we have no one to comfort us,the power is on the side of those that beat us down,I look and saw how much war veterans like me suffer,where we should be treated fairly we are treated unfairly,the power is on the side of those that beat us down,We don't have anyone to comfort us,I look and saw how much war veterans like me suffer,where we should be treated kind,we are treated unkind,the power is on the side of those that beat us down,We don't have anyone to comfort us,I still can see the tears of war veterans like me suffing from coming back from war,We don't have anyone to comfort us,the power is on the side of those that beat us down,I look and saw war veterans like me suffer,where we should be treated good we are treated badly,I still can see the tears of war veterans like me suffing who are still on this earth while ours conrades have paid the price and die for this country,We still don't have anyone to comfort us, the power is on the side of those that beat us down,I look and saw the country on 9/11 when the enemy came and bomb the USA,We was there to comfort the country and the people that lost love ones,the power was on the side of the military of the USA,We beat them down,so I ask this question????? Who are going to comfort us now,we are no longer soldiers but war veterans all mess up we was not born this way but got this way for fighting for ours country////// SSG Jack Thomas Kirt


Details | Couplet | |

War-Born Lullaby

I hear a mother softly cry
As she sings a war-born lullaby.

The song of a father who went away,
To give freedom one more day.

He promised that he would return,
Return from watching evil burn.

It was a promise he could not keep,
As now he sleeps an eternal sleep.

He gave his life so his child could see,
A land of freedom and liberty.

His body now rests beneath green grass,
His medals and picture behind clear glass.

His soul, however, is not gone.
His ideas and dreams are carried on.

She sings the song of war’s high cost.
She sings the song of freedom not lost.

She sings of a father’s sacrifice,
For his country and family he gave his life.


Details | I do not know? | |

Ireland

 Oh Ireland i have seen your beauty
 I have seen your hatred too
 I have heard the songs of rebellion
 The war of words,the words of death.
 You remember Pearce,Connolly and Mcbride
 You forget the children who have died
 Died because of your ignorance
 Died,because of you,the people
 Who stand and watch,then turn away
 When will you learn that no-one wins
 In the game of war and hate
 But everybody loses
 For you, is it too late ??


Details | Rhyme | |

911

911 

Look up in the sky, planes flying low,
Crashing into buildings, not where they should go.

Pilot error it was thought, during crash number one,
Then a second collision, made the people run.

New York under siege, an attack by the air,
The snake named Bin Laden, who else would dare?

The trade towers stood for many a year,
At the world's financial center, did terrorists leer.

The world watched, as the towers came down,
A huge white cloud, and a thunderous sound.

The finest and the bravest, lost their lives,
Calls made, to the husbands and the wives,

We have bad news, your love one has died,
Out of the rubble, their body was plied.

There life it ended, in towers one or two,
Many lives ended that day, others were just through.

What of the workers, looking through the rubble,
Years down the road, the death toll would double.

From sickness and disease, contracted at ground zero,
Families can't survive on the memory of a hero.

Many years have passed, freedom tower erected,
People stay sharp, terror must be detected.

And wiped out completely, US leads the way,
But for now on your knees, and everybody pray,
For the souls we lost on that frightful day,

Ask God to relieve, the pain that day brought,
Renew peoples hope, give direction if sought.


visit poemsbypaulie.com





Details | Free verse | |

BAZOOKA JOE IS GUM

WESSON GIVES A LESSON WITH A .357 DAVID SLINGS A ROCK COP HOLSTERS A GLOCK LIZZY BORDEN PACKS AN AXE MAC HE PACKS THE KNIFE BILLY BATTLES WITH A CLUB TOMMY’S GUN IS A SUB KELLY’S GOT ONE TOO BAZOOKA JOE IS GUM PETER GUNN IS NOT COLT .45 IS NOT MALT NOR IS IT A HORSE HORSESHOES AND HAND GRENADES CANONS HAVE BIG BALLS DOC HOLIDAY HAD TB ROCK HUDSON HAD HIV NATILIE WOOD DON’T FLOAT NATILIE HOLLAWAY DON'T FLOAT THE TITANIC BOAT DON'T FLOAT JAMES DEAN CRASHED HIS CAR HANK WILLIAMS CRASHED HIS BAR DIRTY HARRY HAD THE BIGGEST THE DERRINGER IS SMALLEST CAIN MURDERED HIS BROTHER JULIETTE DRANK POISON FOR HER LOVER JIM JONES KILLED WITH COOL-AID SLASHING WRISTS WITH A BLADE BOW AND ARROW KILLS THE SAME AS BONNIE OR CLYDE BARROW CHARLES MANSON IS ALIVE MICHAEL JACKSON IS NOT IRAQI RULER WITH A ROPE JOHN BELUSHI TOO MUCH DOPE SATURDAY NIGHT SPECIAL IS ORDINARY FAST AND FURIOUS IS THE CRIME PIRATE VICTIMS WALK THE PLANK THINK! NEXT TIME I”LL BRING A TANK HEAR THE WHISTLE OF MY MISSILE? AFTER THAT WHAT DO YOU BET? I’LL COME FLYING IN A FIGHTER JET SMOKEY BEAR’S RIGHT TO “BEAR” ARMS OR DID WE JUST ARM BEARS? NEVER STIFLE MY RIFLE THIS IS MY RIFLE THIS IS MY GUN ONE FOR FIGHTING ONE FOR FUN CADENCE… BANG - BANG - BANG - BANG - BANG - BANG RELOAD MOLON LABE COME AND TAKE THEM THE ONLY WAY FREEDOM OF SPEECH WORKS IS BECAUSE THE 1st AMENDMENT IS BACKED BY THE 2nd AMENDMENT


Details | Quatrain | |

When Marbles Fall

          When Marbles Fall

Happy are the children on the wall of time
Playing marbles by the castle keep
Soldiers watch them secure that they won’t climb
But become bored and fall to sleep

The children are not children at all
But spies that cry for freedom
They slay the soldiers in a modest brawl
The king is next to fall to lose his kingdom 

Fate takes the king with a confidant to towers top
Spies follow them to that end
It is there where all of this must stop
The king must die but first his friend

Marble in this upper room is splendid
King marvels for one last time his acquisitions
Too bad right here and now he must end it
To simply die without his royalties permission 


                   Created 7/12/14 for- Not Just Any Old Quatrain contest


Details | Elegy | |

Hostages, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel's Otages by T Wignesan

Hostages, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel’s Otages* by T. Wignesan

This blood will never dry up on our land
and those felled will lie there exposed.
We’ll keep grinding our teeth for fear of blurting out
we’ll not cry over these crosses upturned.

But we’ll remember these laid low devoid of memory
we’ll keep count of our dead as hours were numbered.
They who weigh heavy as a scourge upon history
tomorrow one’ll spurn them low will they be surprised.

And those who kept quiet for fear of being caught
their silence too will not be pardoned.
Those who stood up to argue and to pretend
even the less pious will have them condemned.

These deaths these wanton deaths are all our heritage
their poor bleeding bodies will not be separated.
We will not let our recall of their faces lie fallow
orchards will bloom on meadows lush green covered.

May they lie exposed naked under the sky like our land
and may their blood be mixed with our origins cherishcd.
The wild rose bush will cover them with the roses of ire
with their blood fierce spring seasons will be enlivened.

May these spring seasons be so cool beyond all words
songs of birds and children trundling paths be they filled.
And like a forest surrounding them heaves a sigh
a great people pray in subdued tones with arms raised.

Rhyme scheme of the original quatrains : abab, cbcb, dbdb, ebeb, abab, fgfg

( La liberté guide nos pas, O.C., t. I, p. 420) 

*First published in the review Traits, in January 1942, and again in L’Honneur des poètes, in 1943. According to Anne-Sophie CONSTANT, the editor of Anthologie Poétique, « Hostages » evokes the execution of hostages in the Chateaubriant Camp on October 22, 1941.

© T. Wignesan – Paris, October 18, 2014


Details | I do not know? | |

The Year of September 11th

The Year of September 11th

The year of September 11th
The year my mother died
The year the World and I
Both sat down and cried

The World, for all its tragedy
Its rubble and debris
I, for the mom who late at night
Once rocked me on her knee

The World it lives life different now
It’s cautious and afraid
I just don’t know how to live,
And so instead I pray.


Details | Free verse | |

Welcome Home

<
WELCOME HOME
My precious son, welcome home
Let me hold you, embrace you, for you are not alone
My how you’ve changed, what battle has done
From serving your country, my soldier son

Your shoulders are broader, your face is like stone
Your hands are all battered, ankles worn to bone
You’ve shed lots of blood, and flood many tears
For you are a man, who’s truly faced fears

You’ve done the unthinkable, and have taken a life
And prayed for the courage, to do it in strife
You’ve lost many brothers, in battle abroad
And know that they rest, in a place next to God

I know who you are, because Im the same man
Now sit back and listen, while I hold your hand
I’ll tell you a tale, of freedom and pride
For I am God’s son, like you I have died

You see I’ve been a soldier, since the beginning of time
Fighting for good, my mission divine
I’ve died for Gods children, which you too have done
Your master is thankful, my soldier son

You were not blessed, with riches or gold
But with gifts much greater, than can ever be sold
You see god made you, with one mission in mind
To protect his creation, your mission divine

I know you have scars, that run deep inside
That man cannot see, but from me they can’t hide
Now hand me those burdens, in me you confide
Lay them at my feet, I’ll wear them with pride

Your mission is over, so lets take you home
To meet our great father, the man on the throne
He loves you so much, for what you have done
I welcome you home, my soldier son

Rhett Connolly, Author>


Details | Rhyme | |

WW1 HUNDRED YEARS LATER

WORLD WAR 1 ONE HUNDRED YEARS LATER 
(AMERICAN VERSION)
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS


PATRIOTIC SONGS GIVE US REASON TO CHEER
EXCEPT WHEN “OVER THERE” IS OVER HERE
LIVING UNDERGROUND IS NO PLACE TO CHERISH
CAUSE IN THIS PLACE , YOU COULD EASILY PERISH
YOU HUDDLE IN THE TRENCHES EACH DAY AT DAWN
THEN OVER THE TOP AT THE SOUND OF THE HORN


THE CHATTER OF MACHINE GUN FIRE SPILLS CROSS THE PLAIN
YOUR COMPANIONS ARE DROPPING SCREAMING WITH PAIN
YOU MOVE RAPIDLY AS YOUR PULSE RACES
ONLY A FOOL WOULD CROSS OPEN SPACES
AFTER THE CHARGE THERE ARE AGONIZING CRIES
FROM WOUNDED MEN SLOWLY LOSING THEIR LIVES


UNARMED MEDICS VENTURE INTO THE STRIFE
FEELING FOR PULSES SEARCHING FOR LIFE
COMMANDERS GAVE ORDERS FOR THIS TYPE OF FRAY
WE NEED TO GET BACK WHAT WE LOST YESTERDAY 
AND SO IT GOES SWAPPING LAND FOR MEN’S LIVES
WITH THIS KIND OF LUNACY NO ONE SURVIVES


NEITHER SIDE WILL CONSIDER THE OTHERS PETITION
THEY’D RATHER CONTINUE THIS SENSELESS ATTRITION
RIDDLED WITH BULLETS THEN DUMPED IN A TRENCH
NO TIME TO COLLECT NAME TAGS TOO ODOROUS THE STENCH
THIS YOUNG LIFE EXTINGUISHED AHEAD OF ITS TIME
HIS UNIFORM TARNISHED AND COVERED WITH LIME


A SENSELESS DEPLOYMENT OF EACH NATIONS BEST
THE REWARD FOR THEIR BRAVERY IS ETERNAL REST
LATER THAT DAY WHEN THEY CALL THE ROLL
FEW WILL BE THERE MAYBE NO ONE AT ALL
BACK HOME THEY’LL READ HIS NAME IN THE SQUARE
SOME WILL BE CRYING IN UTTER DESPAIR

WWI (2) AMER. VER.



THE GOVERNMENT BOASTS OF DAILY  ACHIEVEMENT
BUT IN MANY A HOME THERE IS ONLY BEREAVEMENT 
GALLANTRY AND SACRIFICE WAS WELL WORTH THE PRICE
CAUSE ON NOVEMBER ELEVENTH ALL WILL BE NICE
AN EQUITABLE ARMISTICE WILL TRULY INSURE
THAT NO FURTHER CARNAGE THE WORLD MUST  ENDURE


MISSION ACCOMPLISHED MEDALS GALORE
CAUSE WE FOUGHT THE WAR “TO END ALL WAR
THE GENERALS ALL FLUSH WITH THEIR NEW FOUND FAME
WERE EATING THEIR TRUFFLES AND DRINKING CHAMPAGNE
THE LONELY SOLDIER STILL IN ONE PIECE (SO IT SEEMS)
TRUDGED THROUGH THE MUD SEEKING RELIEF


THE WAR WAS OVER A TIME TO REJOICE
YET IN HIS SOUL AN UNANSWERED VOICE  
THE PAIN AND THE FRIGHT HE HAD TO SUSTAIN
THE HORRORS OF WAR WERE SURE TO REMAIN
THEN ON THAT DAY WHEN HIS LIFE CLOSES
 PUT A FLAG ON HIS COFFIN AND SCATTER SOME ROSES


THEY’LL PRAISE HIS SERVICE TO THE LAND OF THE FREE
AWARD HIM A MEDAL GRANTED POSTHUMOUSLY
DEATH AND DESTRUCTION WILL HAPPEN NO MORE
CAUSE HE FOUGHT THE WAR “ TO END ALL WAR”


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