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Best America Poems

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Details | America Poem |

One World

Love is not a color,
No hue, neither a race.
All of our blood is the same, 
That runs deep within our veins.

If we could lift up each other,
And know that we all care.
If we help our sisters and brothers,
There's a bond that we'll share.








©2013 Honestly JT


Details | America Poem |

9 11

                                    
                                                               
                             America the Free  ~             America the Brave ~
                           Freedom with price              Capitalism attacked
                            the many taken                   hearts broken still
                              one World                           try to rebuild
                            sadness and tears               fall hard with fears  
                            guilt by association             many accused still
                             souls evaporated                shattered dreams 
                            tears fall on innocence          left with anger 
                             The proud fearless             knew the inevitable
                              policeman fireman             many lives lost
                            grieving does not stop           12 years later    
                               New York city once          proud  & shameless 
                             refusing to let fears in          protecting ours 
                                left in shock still              question's unanswered                    
                               nothing learned                     nothing gained  
                                ready to attack                   many left behind
                              anger greets denial              anger meets rage 
                               unacceptable still                 refusing new love 
                            wanting days to rewind           let us go back in time 
                              acceptance  allowing           the victims leave in peace
                              the brave taken young           leaving us sadly old
                               haunting dreams                     lost spirits dwell
                               no answers to hate            never forgetting that day
                               Evil entered suddenly              unforgiving fate
                                entering our City                we stand with the fallen
                                 How to fix                            how do we Change 




           
            This can be read many different ways ~ This is a poem I am so proud too write ~









          


Details | America Poem |

While You Sleep

While you sleep I tell you all of the things I keep inside throughout day.
Now that you can hear but not listen I find them much easier to say.
My hopes, my dreams, my fears, and everything in between
Your subconscious hears so keen, or so it seems.
My tongue is soft; I speak so sweetly 
Knowing your reaction will never greet me.

Tonight will be different in what I want you to know.
It has everything to do with what I can’t help but show.
I hold no claim to any religion but you’ve given me a place for my faith.
Somewhere it will never stale or lose its lavish taste.
You’ve shown me something I can see, touch, and feel, 
And so before it I choose to kneel.

I know I don’t say it but I miss you every day.
Sitting, thinking of the perfect words to be my choice,
Yet when you call I can’t find any of the right words to say.
I’m just happy to finally hear your voice.
Even just a moment is enough to sooth my heavy heart;
Fearing the ends of conversations knowing we’ll have to part.

I’ll never be too far from you, always within arm’s reach,
And in your days of darkness I’ll be the light that you will seek.
I’ll never let you leave too far from me, I’ll stay close behind you in this world;
Secretly protecting what is mine, you will always be my girl.
I only want the best for you so the best of me I will employ.
Faithfully yours, I will always be your boy.

I close my eyes and kiss your soft sweet lips
And see the very best of you in loving bliss.
I see past the physical which makes you attractive
And focus on the things I can’t see in which I’m attracted.
Your thoughts I’d love to hear them all.
Of the things you speak disinterest never makes its call.

My day will come, I know someday I’ll be the only one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give, to love unconditionally.
Yes our day will come, I know someday we’ll be as one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give… to love unconditionally.


Details | America Poem |

Beautiful people

People make me smile the way 
their eyes shine when they talk 
about something they love 
when they feed me food. Or tell 
me how much they love me 
when I look into someone's 
eyes and see it I see that look 
in their eyes I see love in them 
When I see someone laugh and 
have fun in what they do 
The way they cry for there lost 
ones
When they give me a smile and 
tell me how beautiful I am 
People are beautiful well some 
are and I wish someday I can 
find someone who will look at 
me and say "you have that look 
in your eye"    what look?
"Happiness" 
I want to find someone so 
beautiful in the inside I can't 
stay away they amaze me with 
what they say an do how they 
will dance in the rain and know 
every detail about me
Will bring me Starbucks on a 
rainy day and just talk about 
the stars 
I want someone beautiful


Details | America Poem |

Scavengers

Corrupt politicians sleep
In each other's beds
While I hide my gold from them


Details | America Poem |

Ain't America Great

Miz Liberty welcomed Luigi to America's shores to begin a brand new life.
He arrived at Ellis Isle with piles of baggage, three kids and his addled wife.
He knew not a word of English but there's one thing he understood;
He must soon learn the baffling lingo so as not to be misunderstood!

Luigi enrolled in an English class and was bewildered from the start,
Trying to absorb the meaning of various words the teacher did impart!
There were so many words that sounded alike that he could not construe,
And how to fit them in a sentence or a conversation, he had not a clue!

"For example" he asked, "How and when do I use-a you, yew and ewe?
Please-a told me once-a more when it's-a proper to use-a do, dew and due!
When I visit da zoo, is da beast in da cage called a new, knew or gnu?
Can you tell-a me if da tree colors in fall are called hue, hew or Hugh?"

"How can I know if I use-a these-a words correctly, too, to and two,
Or if I get-a sick which of these-a words do I use-a, flew, flu or flue?
I'm-a having all kinds of troubles with these-a words, heir, hair and hare!
In da market I can't figure if I should ask da man for a pare, pair or pear!"

He strove to comprehend the perplexing language and all its doublespeak.
His kids could speak like natives but for him things were looking bleak!
But over time he learned to parse and spell and the jargon he did subdue!
Last I heard of Luigi he was a tenured English professor at Columbia Yew!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved


Details | America Poem |

trust the system

footsteps aimlessly
walking on their trails
beaten down and broken
shiny as the rails
the rails of the train
over used and rusted
crumbling ignored
the system that you trusted
the silence of conformity
the quiet crying song
of people lost in apathy
monotony so long
the old man remembered
the booming days of old
and tried to warn the youngster
with stories he had told
the young man in the t shirt
can hear no warning cries
television cataracts
covering his eyes
commoners injected
with complacent misdemeanors
fed intravenously
from mass media feeders
the heretics will scream
with no one to hear their call
the working slaves will perish
society will fall
in the pulpit yelling
mystifying lies
sweating like a demon
with fire in his eyes
passing round a dish
to collect the workers' wage
saving souls ain't easy
so he sets a stage
profiting from fear
preparing them for death
comfort is a business
says his liquor breath
on the front row fanning
the woman says amen
waiting for the bell
so she can live in sin
forgiveness is a blessing
that god will give to few
surely she'll be one
when her life is through
the child in the classroom
with the curious mind
will be beaten and conditioned
until she too is blind 
"trust in the system"
is the motto that they teach
"question nothing,
so higher you can reach"
the land of the free
the home of the brave
only for those of us
content with being slaves
some will stand on street corners
holding big white signs
telling of injustice
held beneath our sights
but those who throw the bombs
which burn society down
those will be the shakers
for true freedom to be found
but the sheep still continue
to justify their life
ignoring others torment
blind to their strife
perpetuating failure
selling bankers souls
to keep on consuming
to get the best remote control
to build themselves a shield
what kind of life is this
numbness is a virtue
and ignorance is bliss


Details | America Poem |

Chopstick Chatter

A Chinese lad was at table dawdling with his pork and rice.
This upset his mama-san who reprimanded him in a trice!
"Clean your plate!  Children in America are starving, son!"
And she continued to berate him - her tirade had only begun!

"Your papa-san has a great job while dads in America are on the dole.
Our economy is booming while that of America is lagging, on the whole!
Papa makes good money to provide Americans with the things they need.
You should be very thankful for the jobs they send here, yes indeed!"

"Kids in America can't get a job even with a college education,
But, son, America will provide you with a job in any old vocation!
This is the land of opportunity, my boy, thanks to American capitalists!
You must appreciate all they have done for us Chinese communists!"

"Not so long ago your father and I didn't have a yuan to our name.
Now we have a house and brand new car - life will never be the same!
So I don't want to hear any of your sass or fiddling with your food.
Thanks to the generous Americans, they have lifted our nation's mood!"

"I want you to clean your plate and grow strong to follow in your dad's shoes.
Uncle Sam needs you to make TVs and shirts or anything else they choose.
No more lip!  Clean your plate! I want to see those chopsticks flying!
Think about the kids in America who'll got to bed tonight hungry and crying!"

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved


Details | America Poem |

"What is a Sad Day In America?"

         “WHAT IS A SAD DAY IN AMERICA?”

It is a “Sad Day” in America when you wake up every day worrying about being 
black, educated and female.

It is a “Sad Day” in America when you wake up every day and there is a new battle.

It is a “Sad Day” in America when you wake up living on the outside of the 
American Dream, but you live within America and you have nightmares about 
walking in the shoes of another race in your view.

It is a “Sad Day” in America when Civil Rights begin to regress over 40 years.

It is a “Sad Day” in America when you have to worry about what religion or 
denomination you belong too.

It is a “Sad Day” in American when the words “I can” in the word American does 
not represent “I can because I am free.”

Instead it becomes an obstacle because others continue to suppress me---
because of my race, religion, sex, ability or disability? 

It is a “Sad Day” in America when we accept mediocracy.

It is a “Sad Day” in America when we cannot accept our fellow man or fellow 
woman.

It is a “Sad Day” in America when others cannot hear or see.

It is a “Sad Day” when we can no longer show empathy.

It is a “Sad Day” when all we do is “nothing”.


The “Glorious Day” will come when we learn the history of others, walk with 
others by empathizing with others and consider ourselves  brothers and sisters 
in “One America”, one fight, one battle, one love-- until that time “it is” and “will 
be”  a “Sad Day” in America.



copyright@2006 by Carrie M. Love-Atkins 


Details | America Poem |

CAPTCHA's Cruelty

HELP

The CAPTCHA took me by surprise tonight
Letters became ghouls in my mind’s eye
I listed them—
Noted them; words...begging, crying out for me

STAY

CAPTCHA was merely mocked
By millions of viewers on keyboards
I imagined all—
Tears began to fall

LOST

How may I help you, CAPTCHA?
Are you merely what they say?
Is there more—
Tell me, I pray

AAND

You bewilder my senses with your emptiness
The computer became my way to you
But all I could do—
Was imitate

CRYY 

I began to imagine someone stuck in CAPTCHA
A place where they harbored the weak
They took what they pleased—
Allowed them to speak

NNOW

Today it was happening and evermore
There was a reason I came to know
And now—
I want to know more

FOLL

I swallowed air and typed in the words
Feeling worthless and absurd
I began to believe—
There was more to this irrational dream

XOW3

The screen went black and then I was sure
I couldn’t doubt it anymore
The CAPTCHA wanted me—
The letters suddenly blurred and unseen

CAPTCHA
CAPTCHA
Let them go
CAPTCHA 
CAPTCHA
Full of woe
CAPTCHA
CAPTCHA
Take me now
CAPTCHA 
CAPTCHA
Tell me how to
CAPTCHA
CAPTCHA
Set them free
CAPTCHA
CAPTCHA
Knowing is free

Knowing is free

MMEE

For years I have copied your codes
Knowing you are there
Me—it’s me
Crying in the dark pit of despair

AAND

Though empty your words are to me
They are all I hear
All I fear—
In four letters on this electric trap

XXBX

What am I to do?
To follow would weary my soul
To save—
Would take its toll

FREE

What is this foreign word my dear?
Oh, how can you cut and paste it in my mind so clear?
Free—and then? 
Close your eyes and count to ten

The victims of the CAPTCHA remain a mystery to us all
Yet still we stare at the codes and merely imitate them
We are zombies staring our lives away
Trapped in CAPTCHA’s claws
Sad, deprived. . .
CAPTURED

I speak your language to stop this cruelty:

THEE 2TRUE TH78 IS9X BEF4 HOUR VERY EYES

Though we choose not to see
We choose not to fight
We choose only to IMITATE
We merely copy and paste

CRYY
CRYY
CRYY

GOOD
BAYE
BAYE
BAYE 







123