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Introspection Soldier Poems | Introspection Poems About Soldier

These Introspection Soldier poems are examples of Introspection poems about Soldier. These are the best examples of Introspection Soldier poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Couplet | |

One Toy Soldier

One Toy Soldier

Little toy soldiers are all put away
Training is over for this time of day.
Where do these little boys go now to play?
Away from their home to die in the fray.

Little toy weapons are no longer there
But boxed in attics by mothers with care--
Where keepsakes still hold a lock of his hair--
While rockets and missles challenge his fare.

Little toy bad guys and little toy good
Haze in the distance when misunderstood.
Where fall the lilies on long crates of wood
And each gave their all--as good soldiers should...

Little toy soldiers are coming back home...
Mothers are weeping, laments all alone
Where flags lie folded--the gift of Shalom...
As the long box is lowered...'neath the loam

One little toy soldier is placed on the top
Remembering All--so that None be Forgot.

deborah burch©                            


Copyright © Deborah Burch

Details | Rhyme | |

Forgotten Memories

Forgotten Memories

seconds, minutes, hours and days
these pass to most in uneventful ways
s'o's' is a common phrase
yet to some times pass in torment and haze

a sound, a smell, a sight we glean
can nudge the mind to places more mean
places and times long ago pushed away
visit the mind with a will to stay

we know it is troubling and a not wanted visit
but the taste is bitter or sweet, which is it
some say be strong and pass it away
once the claws are set they want to stay

deep in the mind the battle is fierce
your heart, your soul, the claws will pierce
seconds are minutes, minutes are hours
hours are days as life darkens and sours
not battles rage or depth of sea
no limits set for him or me
for circumstances vary of tragedy and pain
no one can limit  loss and gain
we must reach inside and pull ourselves free
not to live as him but to live as me

Robert Gene Stoner Jr  ©

Copyright © Robert Stoner Jr

Details | Free verse | |

My Battles As A Soldier

Streaking skyward the tracers rip
Into hanging soldiers
Falling about into mayhem
Pulsing through blood-filled ears
Hearing comrades scream
Understanding nothing
This is the war I found…

Hatred filled hardened hunter
Into smashed building
Homes pulverized rubble
Strewn about the decaying mass
The scorched metal burning
Bodies of the fallen men
The miasma of war I forever inhale…

Tigers rolling through billowed flame
Firing upon burnt battlefield blindly
Retreating in terror I leave the voices
Calling as I my boots tamp by arms
Reaching for safety I couldn’t render
Brothers abandoned in the Arnhem snow
These are the ghosts of war who haunt me….

Battle’s percussion on the horizon distant
I fade through the fields upon the Rhein
Farmhouses glow a midnight path
Walking to the beat of gun fire echoes
Off the walls of a shelter a little boy sits
Unafraid of the man feeding him chocolate
In the crater of a bomb…

This flash of hope my salvation from war.

Copyright © Charles Fuller

Details | Light Poetry | |

The Spy and the Clown

She descended from a far away land
I was from the backwoods
She was my life and death
I was her lover boy

They taught me simple things
Beware of seductive pretty strangers
How to drive a car very fast and true
How to meander as a tourist in blue

To drop a note inside empty walls
To see my reflection in windows tall
To pick up this and that from here and there
Cross a border or two, if I dare

She moved into my dreams
They knew I was compromised
I knew not a thing at all
So I played the spy and the clown

East German prisons and needles
Russian doctors and dreams
Tomorrow sometimes never comes
Lucky me to be so old and dumb

In the basement of a side street
A Paris jazz saloon
I sat alone
As it dawned capon me

I have no one, I am the clown
The spy that never was
Photographs dancing in my mind
Lovers dancing arm in arm along the Rhine

Helsinki rendezvous
Swedish diplomatic moves
Vodka for both, a drunk white rose
The Russian red room was to be my tomb

I lost my lover
Pistol whipped and left for dead
Never be the spy and the clown
My only desire to touch the sea of Oland
Hope the hell I drown

Rainy days and clowns
Those days of cat and mouse
Left me alone in the old spies house

Hanging around
Saved the world
Lost my love
Time for me to cut my throat

Spies end up playing solitaire
Clowns end up alone
Fools drown inside vodka dreams
Lena still lives in my heart, weeping

Copyright © arthur vaso

Details | Cinquain | |

Inner Strength

I begin each morning eager for the day
Working for the good of mankind 
Come what may
There have been many hurdles along my way
For some reason unbeknownst to me
I do not stray
This soul is strong in spite of it's emotional dismay
My spirit is my strength today
And guides my life in every way.....

Copyright © Ninette Carey

Details | Haiku | |

Still My Enemy

Some boys called them dinks.
I called the bastards Viet Cong.
Others called them gooks.

Copyright © Jerry Stevenson

Details | Lyric | |

To young to die

Too young to die

They take a boy, too young to shave
Who has never lived his life
While his mates are chasing girls
They fill his life with strife
They send him off to a brand new war
Over some damned fools Ideal
I don’t understand their wars
And I guess I never will

The folk who like to run the show
Or most of them at least
Have never even been to war
They’ve never felt the beast
As he rips right into one’ intestines
That hollow hole of fear!
Each leader should be sent to war
Then the picture might grow clear

Then when they send young boys to war
They’ll see the whole damned show
The weight of endless terror
 And then maybe they’ll know
What it’s like as a fine young man
To be sent out there to die
He might then know, how a mother feels
When she’s lost her little guy.

1 August 2013 @ 1443hrs.

Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | Blank verse | |

Every Veteran Is A Casualty

Every veteran is a casualty
Whether it’s in body, mind or spirit.
Because War is the worst obscenity,
Ruining both General and Private.
Until War becomes an anachronism, 
We’ll  feel  always threatened by:  anarchy,
Fundamentalism, imperialism,
Terrorism,  and social entropy.
So we fight because were patriotic,
Or to secure our standard of living.
Feeling traumatized and idiotic--
Since we survived, there is no forgiving.
We can’t escape our fear of “the others”
Until all men see themselves as brothers.

Copyright © Mark J. Halliday

Details | Haiku | |

What People Were and What People Are

People were
Many things.
Strange or not

People were
Different and
Odd and fun.

People were
Monsters but…
That’s not all

People were
And still are
Strange and odd.

People are
People. For
life is life. 

Yet not.
Not is lies.
Truth seeps from

Every mouth
Lies, lies, lies
Move, move, move

But somehow
Lies prevail.
Lies are life.

Lies are death.
Lies are homes.
Lies are pain.

Lies are truth.
Yet somehow.
Truth prevails.

Truth is life.
Truth is death.
Truth is home.

Truth is pain.
Truth is lie.
Truth is that.

Lies will die.
Lies will cease.

Truth will live.
Truth will be.

Copyright © Layla Elkoulily

Details | Narrative | |

SOLDIERS NIGHTMARE contest waking up from a nightmare

                         VIETNAM VET SOLDIER'S NIGHTMARE

Another dream –
I could not wake –
Escape from what would follow--
Grasping for a secret word, the letters stark and hollow--
I was trapped entangled there,
Just beyond the reach
Of men that could release me
Or a hill that could be breached

Gunfire was a backdrop 
Soft and pungent was its sound
Fell on me like raindrops--strangely harmless on the ground

Smoky gray encased me like a piece of sleeping net
Tunnel faces hidden —easy killing, no regret-- 
Felt terror and the aching for the friends around me cold
Standup guys with stalwart hearts--just did what they were told

Then my cell phone beeped a beep---
A message had come in ....
Now awake I saw your name---
My new day would begin.

Victoria Anderson-Throop
November 25, 2012
waking from a nightmare contest

Copyright © Victoria Anderson-Throop

Details | Free verse | |

The Man With No Face

Hark!  It is he!
A slate face; devoid!
Mechanical, computing, sleepless.

No! Just human!
Turning, just turning!
He will not fall, now expressionless.

The dark gazeth!
Yet, he wont gaze back!
Four days, sleepless, faceless, for all!

His face is stone.
No care, there's no care!
Persist amidst all of the loss.

It is but he!
No! Tireless;
designed to be.
It is but he!

Shrug the abyss,
he will nev'r fail;
a perfection, 
designed to be. 
Shrug the abyss.

Through it all,
he leaveth none for all!
To see the end of it all,
the completion of it all!
None but all.

Four days sleepless,
it is none but he!
Faceless, breathless, mechanized.

Look! See him now!
With bags under eyes.
See him now, the man with no face.

It is he,
Be it so! Be it so!
To see the end of it;
the destruction of it all!
It is he.

Copyright © Adam Lefaivre

Details | Rhyme | |

We The Lost People

Our government says were incompetent –
our weapons they must take.
The 2nd Amendment no longer applies,
life, liberty and the pursuit happiness
is now at stake.

Our forefathers were merely mistaken –
this Constitution they’ve drafted in vain.
So they tear it apart piece by piece,
as We The People watch with disdain.

Your opinion doesn’t matter here –
Freedom of Speech belongs to them,
to a perverse, corrupted society,
too ignorant to see their condemned.

The Bill of Rights once ever so protected –
the Ten Commandments in every courtroom,
both now are strictly an abomination,
to this Godless Country in doom.

Take heed to their acts of subtle changes –
to their intensive need to change our creed,
People! It’s not about protecting us!
It’s about control, domination and greed!

Copyright © Stacy Stiles

Details | Free verse | |

All hail, the misguided soldier, the misguided Hive

All hail,
The brave soldier
Who stands firm
Like the fickle shell of a snail
Before the oncoming foot of titans

All hail,
The brave soldier, 
A ferocious bee
Who strikes his stinger into the enemy
Comforted by fleeting thoughts of heroism
-a safeguarded hive
Thoughts that flit away in the wind
Like windswept Pollen ambushed by desert
-as the bee falls for the cause

All Hail, 
The brave invader
Who fells foe for his country
All hail murderer,
Comforted by a noble cause
Sent out on wings of glory to cut down fanged tigers
Purging threats, safeguarding life
	-the hive
All Hail,
Misguided killer
For all tigers are fanged
All people threats
-All people life

All Hail,
The weary soldier
	-sacrificial lamb
Joined out of a desperate cause
A squalling infant, a taunting belly
And the weary soldier
Gives his sacrifice to the gods of the Hive
And prays for rain.

Copyright © Samir Georges

Details | Elegy | |


                                            SAPPHO’S FALLING STARS     (Part one)

I am descendent of Odysseus
	Hero of the past
Have I kin—I know not—I may be the last--
The Trojan War and Helen made my family's blazing fame
Thus magnified by Homer was made our honor and ancestral name

I stand this day the General of the fallen men that the Fates have tossed
across the Siren Sappho's way—
now foolishly slain-- my Fallen Stars    	 
                      		such a ragged few
                                       in this paltry breath of a moment
                                      			of mere delay--

Inconsequential time in history 
                                                                                          forever lost—

at their honor’s cost

for Mine, a Mighty Name
excuses easily such inconsequential blame
I cannot weep—I cannot pray

                      Such sacrifice of brave men
	              Lifeless , While I stand whole
	               Due to my folly 
                      Sucks the breath stark from my soul

Yarns and lore of Heroes—I know
Babe……. to youth……… in manhood……..
Each far-flung hour, day upon dew-kissed day
Nurtured ever cherished in the sweet talk of the female-breast-kissed way
      	Absorbed sensuous tactics laced with salty woman taste--so learned
	Intimately known as my manhood blossomed

Intimate Initiate—once
You, Sappho, sought my need –-
Intimate follower once—
                                I ate your passion delicious sauced with greed

(part two posted)............................................

Victoria Anderson-Throop  12/18/12 ©

Copyright © Victoria Anderson-Throop

Details | Rhyme | |

The American Soldier

We are all the colors a Patriot depicts,
the red’s the blues and whites a mix.
We honor the soldier’s creed till death,
protecting our nation with every breath.

Quitting is not an option you’ll see,
for a soldier’s pride and honor succeeds.
A soldier’s mission will always come first,
hungering for freedom with a thriving thirst.

The American Soldier, our warrior of choice,
will serve their people will a victorious voice.
They are comrades in arms, till the very end,
no one left behind, fellow man they’ll tend.

The American Soldier doesn’t accept defeat,
heroically they’ll fight, in the cold and the heat.
They are the guardians of freedom we forget,
the American Soldier does not identify regret.

Our way of life is because of their strength,
for decades they’ve served at every length.
The American Solder conveys honor and pride;
for fallen soldiers, many tears they have cried.

Honor our troops, for freedom is not free –
it’s the American Soldier whose provided liberty.
Take a moment to praise the dedication and pride,
of the American Soldier that never dies…….

Copyright © Stacy Stiles

Details | Senryu | |

Warriors Of Iron Will

 in copper and lead,    

within full metal jacket    

abide the steeled men 

Robert Gene Stoner Jr
Form: Senryu
Syllable count 5-7-5

Copyright © Robert Stoner Jr

Details | Pastoral | |

Foot Soldier For The Lord

Hardened by indecision
True conviction's at odd
Recompense beyond belief
Some-time's it get's 
Pretty hard 
To play the part
From death do us part
From the truth until the
Dawn morning early light
In the heat of the night
We wrangle with the Devil
To win the fight
Treed by disease
With pain and strief
We vowel to move on
Fore we are vested
For this very life
Fore they killed our
First born
Our only Son
His name was Christ
For this ye must pay 
The price.....
We travel there where thou'
     Art not travel
Where evil may be
As wide as the mountain
But, as deep as the sea
Thee repave's of tragedy
Our Legion's are many
Heveanly hath no furry
Well, we have got plenty
We must submit to the Will
The Will to be free
That thou shall be done
On Earth for eternalty
Our legion's are one
To the commitment of
His new kingdom of one
Proclaimed to be
Under the jurisdiction
Of the Lord and His Holy Son
Till the brink of eternity
In the name of the Lord
And the Holy One
Till such that day
That the Kingdom has come
In the name of the Father
And the Holy Ghost



The Lord  beseech you you at the Rapture...let it define you...

Copyright © Gary Fields

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Distant Warrior

I get this wondrous chill as night falls
in mountains or desert sand
and I find myself dreaming about
home, my fondest memory
from this far away land.

I miss the special lady who 
stole my heart, my thoughts
and all there is of me;
and I deeply cherish 
our final moments together.

I think about the children 
I left behind, how I miss them 
and pray they’re  fine -
and it’s hard Lord,
it’s so very hard.

It’s times like this that I wonder
why I volunteered and I
get this knot in my stomach -
then I cringe and find myself 
trying to hold back tears.

Soon the battle will begin
when I’ll hear my own heartbeat
through the creepy sounds 
amidst treacherous mountain sides or
drifting sands and whirling winds.

It’s  time spent in worry,
fear, and some regret
as I encounter my fate
in the war so near
and I must admit, I’m scared.

This stench of war, 
the sight of it all,
it’s that awful image
of how I imagined hell
after Lucifer’s fall.

I wonder to myself,
“Does it have to be
that generations of people 
can’t seem to agree 
to the simple concept of peace?”

Soldiers don’t start wars
but they surely fight them,
making all manner of sacrifice
and I doubt that even once
did a soldier ever like them.”

Then I think of  “Old Glory”
and I’m filled with pride.
It’s a warm patriotic feeling
which overcomes me
from deep down inside.

I’m confused, scared
and battle weary.
I worry about those I love
as I cling to my faith  
and pray to God above.

I’m a distant warrior,
an American fighting man;
not an aspiring hero,
but just a simple soldier 
trying to do the best that I can.

Copyright © Ed Coet

Details | Narrative | |

The Known Soldier

Last night awakened with thoughts of him
How long has it has been, only
Yesterday … 

First one I ever saw laid out
I sixteen, he nineteen, Viet Nam 
Airborne …

Purple complexion seeping through under glass 
I gaze on doll-like hair
Broomcorn …

His uniform perfect, tie straight
Blouse olive, at attention
Airborne … 

No one else at the funeral home
Me and a girl friend too early for death
Careworn …

Dead before he hit the ground
Cut down by ground-fire first jump no longer
airborne ...

So many years now, forty-two,
awakened with thoughts of him,
Wind-borne …

Still see his body rigid attention
rumor wire for arm, died before his time
Soilborne …

Didn’t know him well, would he
still be here if not
Airborne …

Would we have smoked and talked about 
women if he would be
reborn …

And what of Thua Thien, what now 
monument, blood of airborne boys?
Golf course …

Copyright © jeff eklund

Details | Verse | |

Reflection on 'Taps'

Day is done, gone the sun.

     (Gallant soldier, your duty done).

From the lake, from the hill, from the sky.

     (We mourn that to sustain freedom you must die).

All is well, safely rest, God is nigh.

     (You'll receive your just reward in the by and by!)

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved

NOTE:  Lines 1, 2 and 3 are the traditional lyrics for "Taps".   Lines within the
parentheses are my reflections.   Every night at 2200, I can hear the soothing, yet mournful notes of "Taps" played at nearby Fort Carson, Colorado.

Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw

Details | Elegy | |

Elegy For A Soldier

He was just a brash young kid,
Couldn't even legally drink.
He did all the things he did
Because he had freedom to think.
He watched America bleed
From terrorists across the sea.
He answered his countrie's need,
Wanting to be all he could be.
He went to war to defend
The freedom we've all come to know.
He thought maybe in the end
He' d make a difference and so
He gave all he had to give.

Copyright © Ashley Lowery

Details | Monoku | |


                        he who fears to the death can never conquer, ask a true soldier

Copyright © BL Devnath

Details | Couplet | |

A Soldier Departs

A soldier dies for the sake of his country
He lived in a land where we’re all meant to be free

Bleeding from his wounds he speaks before his life is done
“Not every soldier goes to heaven and I fear that I am one”

“I fought to save the innocent from suffering”
“I fought so hard but I couldn’t save them from dying”

He gasps as he chokes on his tears
His mind is but a fleeting memory thinking of long forgotten years

“My parents said to grow up and live strong”
“If they could see me now, would they hold me before I’m gone?”

“Or have I crossed the line between man and beast?”
“Oh Lord I beg of you, let this pain cease”

“Or has God forsaken man?”
“Does it matter? I’ve already fought and died for this land”

Hovering between life and death
He speaks with his last breath

“Is God watching now, have I done well?”
“If not heaven, where else can I go? For I’ve already seen hell”

Copyright © Christopher Stones

Details | Free verse | |

The Soldier

          THE SOLDIER





Copyright © peter holmes

Details | Rhyme | |

I as a Soldier

I as a soldier, have the heart, to willfully fight,
and fortitude, to still do, what is, constantly right.
I as a soldier,  have the resilence, to continue, to live,
and the courage, for my country, my life, to then give.
I as a soldier, am a buddy, for whom, I fought beside,
an honor and privilege, serving with them, with great pride.
I as a soldier, however, can only, speak, for me, 
destined, to pay back, a freedom, that, is never free.

Copyright © Sean Matthews

Details | Rhyme | |

Parody of a Soldier

Eagerly joining the nation's martial order,
Becoming Uncle Sam's itinerant boarder,
Pledging to defend my country's border,
Against foreign malice and internal disorder.

Callously disregarding my own personal ambition,
Carelessly abandoning familial bonds and social position,
Caustically enlisting in the my country's latest inquisition,
Cheerfully pledging to defend abstract values without condition.

Forthrightly conditioned to to obey without recourse,
Instantly melded into mindless, fraternal force,
A provisioned robot, a designated national resource,
Vetted to die for patriotic cause without slightest remorse.

Subjugated to the imperial dictums of state,
Compensated a minimal wage for perilous fate,
Commissioned to fight amorphous foes without face,
Trained to annihilate belligerents without trace.

Copyright © Stephen Parker

Details | Verse | |


Are you a coward or a man?
your clothes are stained with the blood of the
cold heart
you split a mother from her child
Then you pretend to comfort them
with the barrow of your gun
you stir trouble and pretend to rescue us
Brainwashed us into thinking you were our
you rid us of the little piece of hope we held
on to .
Our bodies now lay cold,
you cheated us
we wish for death now
More than we wish for peace.
Blind and Fed up 
we wonder around in pursuit of truth
To us and to the world
Are you any different?
who are you?

Copyright © Wasekera Chiphazi Banda

Details | Narrative | |

Untitled #18 / A soldier-form

Shadowy, now constant
a soldier-form marched out of the void
before it arrives, it is gone.

Copyright © Jesse Jones

Details | Free verse | |

Thoughts Of A Soldier

Thoughts Of A Soldier 
Marchinn,no beatin drum to keep my rhythum. 
No one is singinn or whistlinn. 
Just making miles on a one way trip. 
Bringing death to all religions. 
Armed with weapons of mass destruction. 
Carryinn my extra socks and foot powder. 
Wishinn i did not have to have my beer later. 
Lookinn for a place no place to eat. 
Forgettinn always to carry meat. 
Have i got my knife yet and all my leaven. 
On my merry way to heaven, 
I have to fight now to survive. 
Thoughts of a soldier,gettinn older in the night. 

Copyright © charles hice