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Best America Poems

Below are the all-time best America poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of america poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New America Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best America poems are below this new poems list.

Across America by Adams, Cona
I'm A Young America by Bdosa, Vee
Laud Land in America by Horn, James
A Pronouncement Against America by Gist, J Hamilton
The Fall Of America by Ellison, Jack
THE CONFEDERATE STATES OF AMERICA SPEAK by Walker , Verlena S.
Trump America 2 by doherty, john
Trump America by doherty, john
Look Who's Making America Great by Massey, A. Mark
I Am Looking for America by Hunt sr, Harold

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The Best America Poems

Details | America Poem | |

FREEDOM'S CALL

Forever will I long for you 
Remembering your love each day
Enabled me to make it through  
Each time I shipped away 
Do not be afraid," I said, 
Oblige me in this task I take
Many people depend on me 
Soldier's love do not forsake

Come to me in the dark of night
And I shall know you believe 
Let me hear your silent prayer
Let your love help me achieve

6/27/15

Copyright © Judy Konos | Year Posted 2015


Details | America Poem | |

Arikara Born

I like many others have lived in our dreams In this world where I lived amongst forests and streams Where the Great Plains stretched and our rivers flowed If you could see through my eyes, how my tribe glowed Born from my mother of Arikara descent My father a Sioux warrior, his stature, augment My growing up was no different than the others around For the learnings that grew from our ancestors surround Hunting and fishing, being told of the dangers in life Cultural indifferences, to fearing tribal strife But it's what my father taught me every single day To learn from our lands for through the years they'd display Tracking, seeking, searching, living from our lands Every year more learned, growing in understand From a boy to a man becoming a warrior through my years Protecting what was ours, allaying modern fears But the changes that we faced, suffocated our souls There was only ever one outcome, other man's goals I like many others, to live and eventually fall Born from Arikara, Sioux, my name was 'Standing Tall' .<*>. A little story from my heart, where the Indigenous will always be.

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2014


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

Copyright © Honestly J.T. | Year Posted 2013


Details | America Poem | |

Chocolate Fountain

Chocolate Fountain Abuse- for the lover 

How easily I forget I'm allergic to chocolate
I want to dip the exquisite kosher in a Spanish brandy
Sweet, sweet, cavity tarnish boxes of chocolate

At a store window; a dried up chocolate fantasy goblet
A taste of spoiled milk, nothing dandy with this candy
How easily I forgot I was allergic to chocolate

Snickers Bar, melting under the spotlight for-profit
Not edible, waging unassertive words like a pansy
Sweet, sweet, cavity tarnish boxes of chocolate

Chocolate pop, a candy bar coming out of the closet
There was not much bandy, about this candy
It's easy to forgot I'm allergic to chocolate

Stubby nuts, stomachache, bucket of vomit
Butterflies, flipping when I hear a faucet of cocoa candy
Sweet, sweet, cavity tarnish boxes of chocolate

Enrobed with small nuts, it dwells under the pocket
Caramel and peanuts American walnut vigilante
How easily I forgot I was allergic to chocolate
Sweet, sweet, cavity tarnish boxes of chocolate

~?~
7/10/14

Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2014


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 to write ~









          

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013


Details | America Poem | |

Memory Rides the Rails - Poem Time Forgot

Forest fairies changing colors,
autumn's patchwork pattern weaving
in the foggy morning stillness
before winter's barren grieving,
up the river on the damp air,
up hollows through the shadowed vales
sounds the mournful, sobbing whistle:
once more memory rides the rails.

Childhood song for railroad watchers -
a tinge of hobo in my veins,
longing for the lonesome whistle
like a lost child for his name.
Life began beside the railway,
an open door to fantasy;
my dreamer's soul soaked in the flavor
hearing that whistle witchery.

Hungry tramps in search of breakfast
found our doorstep every time;
hobo network communication
marked mama's eggs and bacon "fine."
Bleary eyes and beards all stubble
made child imaginations fly
and the tales with which we clothed them
were wilder still than hobo lies.

Oh, for the days when trains were magic:
iron dragons breathing smoke and fire,
lashing long tails through the valleys
with monstrous strength that never tired.
Oh, the secrets that were hidden 
behind the doors of plain boxcars;
feel the untamed urge to mount them
and plunder treasure from afar.

Delight was ours beyond measure
to waken on those special days,
finding, in the night, the dragon 
had brought the circus train our way.
See the bearded lady waving
and catch the fat man's twinkling eye,
smell the coal smoke's pungent flavor
beneath our magic big top sky.

Grown up am I; steam train magic
comes swirling by once in a while
to view autumn's fleeting pageant
and make train lovers like me smile.
Nostalgic, rhythmic beating,
staccato yelps and sobbing wails
make my soul a mental hobo;
once more memory rides the rails.

Copyright, 2000

Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2015


Details | America Poem | |

This is not a poem--- A singled out page

-THIS IS NOT A POEM-

Hey, Poets stop by, give me a shout out.
Tell Me Where You Are From;)
I promise I won't show up on your doorstep.


If you are having a bad day, let me have it
If you have awesome news, don't be greedy 
---SHARE! SHARE!
By all means  --- SHARE THE NEWS!!!


.................  LOVE THE POET DESTROYER 

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015


Details | America Poem | |

ON THE WAVES OF LOST MEMORIES

    


   ON THE WAVES OF LOST MEMORIES…

These salted memories tell stories
The oceans and seas gave birth to.

Over the tempestuous waters
Echoes from the bellies of slave ships
Ride the tides of history

Spreading ripples over the shores
Of time proclaiming forgiveness
For lost souls.

We sashay along bleached beaches 
Where white sands mask the shed blood;
And splashing waves drown out
The ghost echoes of rattling chains:

We no longer remember
Our beginnings here.

Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2015


Details | America Poem | |

Lotsa Limericks - It Couldn't be Verse

		1. Big Brother
Big Brother's protecting his mice
with a secret eavesdropping device.
          If you hang up the phone
          he'll just send in a drone
when a warrant won't really suffice.

		2. Neutrality
The internet's meant to be free,
yes for all, such as you, such as me.
          But now there's some doubt -
          will it lose all its clout
with the death of neutrality's spree?

		3. Privacy
'twas surely our forefather's dread
all our emails would someday be read.
	Now that push comes to shove
	by the powers above,
private thoughts must now stay in our head.

		4. Guantanamo 
Guantanamo bay's a resort
where the fishing's a fabulous sport -
	with your back on a board
	tepid water is poured
spawning tales for a kangaroo court.

		5. Banks
To bountiful bailouts give thanks
for there's nothing much richer than banks -
	making money galore
	taking homes from the poor
while they're managing mortgaging pranks.

		6. Health
If you live in the States don't get sick
(lest a cut of the upper class clique).
	Whether injured or ill
	all they'll give you's a pill -
if you're lucky you'll surely die quick.

		7. Economy
Our economy's doing just fine
lying dead with a slug in the spine.
	So come follow the call
	where there's money for all
and pure profit's the bottom-most line.

		8. Safety
Vigilantes and cops are wide spread -  
as for justice… not even a shred.
	The avengers of right
	score when stalking the night 
so beware of a cap in the head.

Copyright © Terry O'Leary | Year Posted 2014


Details | America Poem | |

Blood Of Your Passion

He's staring off into oblivion;
dead-lights, who of their own free will choose to illuminate
the gray matter microwave that is TV:
too vain, too vulgar. Thought Vanquisher,
brought to you by your friendly-facade-keepers:
the politicians pussyfooting on a pedestal
built of an uninformed (yet united) public -
whose belief in "connection" is in reference
to a wall socket. Not love. Not kindness.
Who unwittingly become hamsters on a wheel,
convinced of stars held in our pockets; while promises of prosperity
dangle on a string. Like Maya's caged bird we sing
- but not of freedom - to sing of that would be akin
 to declaring the sun has risen in the east. Freedom is a given,
at least that's the belief that's bandied about.
There's a boldface lie in that belief . . staring us in the face.
Are we too ignorant to see or too coddled to care?
Organic antenna, playing a fuzzy station;
our loved one's voice like a pesky fly -
six-legged silhouette on precious phones.
Halfhearted hmms-and-yeahs exuding from lazy lips. A lone
wolf, misunderstood youth - the euphemisms of today,
tomorrow's regrets. The diarrhea of words floating
in cyberspace; ricocheting off planets, but never touching earth.
The constipation of passion - nonchalant bloodbath of values -
no one strong enough to carry the hearse. We'll have to work
together - in unity redirected - to carry the load of our ancestor's past.
We descendants who reap the aftermath; let's carry on and forgo the calm.
Complacency is no destiny to pursue; crack the bottle against the bow,
that ship has sailed. Let us dabble in truth, instead of sugarcoat lies;
deception maybe be sweet, but give it time, it'll go straight to your thighs.
Embrace controversy with a bear hug, and give tyranny a timeout.
And should our words sharpen swords instead of mold minds,
may the massacre be only metaphorical - and the white flag of truce
be mistaken for a canvas - painted with the blood of your passion.

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2015


Details | America Poem | |

Summer Nights in the South

Summer Nights in the South Green fireflies blink in the quiet of night and our sleeping old dog heaves a sigh. Dreaming, she sprints through a youthful blue sky chasing delicate clouds, cotton-white. A red-sunset tanager* colors the warm air from a perch in the majestic oak limbs above professing by lullaby, sincerely devoted love, like some sublimely recited evening prayer. I lay back and smile, through the leaves, at the moon to the sound of crops rippling in the breeze thinking how precious are nights such as these when alone, with the Earth I commune.
*Summer Tanagers (Piranga rubra) are native to the southern U.S. but are not true tanagers. They are actually members of the cardinal family. 08/01/15 Submission for Contest: Nature Poems Only Hosted by: Shadow Hamilton

Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2015


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.

Copyright © Kristopher Higgs | Year Posted 2012


Details | America Poem | |

Beaten not Forgotten

For BATTER or worse!
 
Tired of facing this bat-less ball
My life tied up and beaten to a pole, 
like the color black, the pain is endlessly
Facing life with no possibility
Facing life's judgment
The envy of all matters
A slave to my grave, with no redemption
Gathering the lies and insults
More powerful than a whip on my back
A trap with no way to disown and burn the tree
Falling far from - turnover tracks
Forgetting who I am, 
feeling the flaws of my abnormality
Finding comfort in a noose
Suffocated by what seems to be dry air 
Tired of living a life under self-brutality
Dying slow, darkness down a new path
Now I see, there's no escape

The more I see, the more I feel 
Hell's got my  running plate
My Beautiful beat but never forgotten soul
That's how my story unfolds
 
~ S ~

Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2010


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

Copyright © brittney lopez | Year Posted 2013


Details | America Poem | |

Common Man


The traveler reeked of weariness,
His companion was Fatigue
Wear upon his clothes suggest
He'd come a million league.

Gaunt were eyes deep set and brown
Above his cheekbones high
His being was pure somnolence
And I heard his silent cry.

Hard roads had been his travel
The pains chiseled on his face
In lines of furrows on his brow
Permanently enlaced

Around I saw no motion there, then ...
His head began to rise
Finally he looked at me ...
Suffering in his eyes.

So quietly I attended
And with a heavy heart
I wanted so to speak to him ...
But knew not how to start

Within his labored breathing
He then began to speak
His words, when finally spoken
Were truthful and unique

His lips worked to form the words -
Then said; "My name is: Common Man,
I'm a father; I've worked hard;
' always done the best I can.

"The road's become uphill and steep with
Burdens I can't propel
I've tried to move on forward -
But, I stumbled here - and fell.

"There are others on me
Who so do depend
I must move on forward,
This mustn't be my end.

"Now I must reach out to you
'Cause before I've never failed
I'm turning now to you
'Fore on hardships I'm impaled". 

A calloused hand then extended
Toward my outstretched hand
And I want to heed the call
For this Common Man.

But, Greed and Avarice have won
And assistance can't be lent -
Wall Street, you see, owns me now:
I'm Your Government.

Copyright © Jack Clark | Year Posted 2014


Details | America Poem | |

THE LIFE OF JESUS CHRIST LORD

In Galilee, his voice was heard.
In Nazareth, he rested his spirit.
Cana is where he was first miraculous.
In Galilee, the crowds were like a flock of sheep.
But his crucifixion in Judea defeated their image.
My beloved Jesus knew his faith.
At the last supper, he told his disciples about his last days.

Oh Lord of greatness
How they hung you on the cross
Arms stretched to the limit
Not mindful (of it) at all.
The people of Galilee embraced your ministry.
In Judea, they crowded to witness your crucifixion.
Your mother cried out but
She knew that you were seeking your crown.
In Heaven, you reside.

You were raised from the dead.
Lord Jesus, you will meet your disciples once again.
Your resurrection was angelical.
An angel appeared to your disciples.
They were informed of your forgoing.
In Galilee, as promised, they would see you once more.

The prophecy of the birth of Christ is destiny that forfeited his life.
_________________________________________________________
Penned March 20, 2015!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2015


Details | America Poem | |

WISCONSIN

We are known for our football, bratwurst, and beer,
Iridescent blue lakes with fresh waters, crystal clear,
Summer's sun blazes hot enough to make skin burn,
Cheese producing dairy farms are around every turn,
Our bright autumn leaves change their colors with ease,
Near spring, the scent of lilac floats upon the breeze,
Snowy winters, with temperatures below zero degrees,
In our green forests, raccoons and deer have a home,
Near the roadside, wildflowers grow wherever you roam.

Harley-Davidson was born, where the eagles fly free,
Wisconsin is as close to heaven, as home can be.






Kim Merryman's contest - "Tell Me About Where You're From"

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014


Details | America Poem | |

OUT OF THE WATER

Hooves of aquatic thunder these white steeds
Of wonder, slamming against the coral reef
As hail storms rage, set us free their voices
Softly speak through the seashells littering
The sandy beach.
Enchantments cursed beast of purity’s beauty
Trapped within the foam and spray, touching
Almost the land then in sorrow’s undertow
Driven back is this mystical herd of wild
Mustangs.
Poseidon’s sacred water horses, surfing
Within the frothy s riptide of mermaid tears,
Clashing their silvery horse shoes, against the
Rocky edges of the under currents tidal surge
These titans of the fathoms deepest depths.
Lightening immortals shimmering, bathing
Translucent beneath the hued blue waves,
The last unicorns beg for release, to run
Freedom trails once more, to feel the
Mountains breezes of liberation flowing
Through their milk white manes again.
But silence is the reply from their capturer,
Unmoved is his trident of power, sitting on
His ivory thrown Poseidon watches these
Wonders of myth, and relishes in their
Spectacular beauty, vowing never to
Set them free, thee belong to me, my
Sacred water steeds of the bluest deep.
Within the seashells hear them weep,
These creatures of the mystical realm,
Crying out, release us please, can thrust,
Not hear us.
Out of the water, to feel mother earth
Beneath our silver hooves, we give our
Horns of crystal power, or the shimmering
Shine that beguiles our under sea father.
Out of the water, we’d roam in the wilderness
Wild, roll amongst the sandy duns of the desert,
Climb the mountain tops heights, and breath
The sweet air of freedom within our lungs.
Out of the water, for just one single day,
We sacrifice all that we are, or were in
Mysticism mystical realm,  just to be free!
Hooves of aquatic thunder these white steeds
Of wonder, slamming against the coral reef
As hail storms rage, set us free their voices
Softly speak through the seashells littering
The sandy beach.

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015


Details | America Poem | |

THE GHOST TRAIN

Along the mountain pine valley did the Iron Horse roar,
A steam belching black demon, burning red hot coals
Within it's steel belly.
Speed's hell bound creation, driven by greed's insatiable hunger,
Faster, faster it moves at acceleration rush, to
Achieve manifest destiny's final arrival on time.
In the distance hear another lone whistle blow, spitting,
And spewing with brimstone's gray smoke.
This indeed is the devil's train, carrying the forsaken,
To the depot of no return.
With a half empty payload aboard, Satan makes a deadly
Judgment call, stoke up those engines boys, ramming
Speed if you please.
Made man beasts are these mechanical monsters
Of destructions, lethal death weapons, chained
Down to the steel rails, and iron pikes.
Ebony stallion's racing against the winds,
As redden sparks sizzle and bite at the crisp autumn
Air, bellowing fumes poisoning the night.
The engineer of the 10; 15 out of Tombstone,
Checked his pocket watch, speaking impatiently,
He did so yell out, come along fellow's, we have a
Schedule to keep, and we've hours behind in our dead line,
So let’s pick up the pace.
Now the devil's train came out of know where,
With hell's supernatural master at the wheel,
Heckling, and laughing, relishing in the carnage’s
Utter calamity to come.
On a lone chewed up mangled piece of track,
Lies wreckages debris blood, flesh and twisted metal,
Lain stewned for miles beside the wild wilderness.
Broken bones, and sheared off limbs, weeping mother's
Cradling limp, lifeless bodies, crying why, God almighty
Why?
But the lord and heavenly father, had nothing to do,
With this unnatural disaster, nay the devil had many
Empty spaces to fill, and his passengers list was lean.
So he leveled the crimson ground with his dark gavel,
Taking souls at high velocities supernatural speed,
For this is the devil's ghost train, and it is so
Hell bound.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014


Details | America Poem | |

PIZZA AMERICA'S FAVORITE

Thick or thin, it is the Friday night order in special,
Supreme or meat lovers delight, whatever toppings
You like it, does not matter for it’s 
The all American favorite, Pizza!!
Roll out that dough, cover it with Italians specialty
Sauce, cheese me to please me, I’ll never get enough,
I’m simply addicted to this deep dish pan delicious stuff.
Cut me no single slice, for more, more, more,
Is the thunderous roar of my mighty hungering’s
Rumbling, within my tummy, for what Pizza!!!
Circled or squared, just roll that pizza cutter of 
Portions pleasure, pick up your slice and allow
That thick cheese to pull apart naturally,
Then bite into Nirvana, for this is heavens
Perfection guaranteed by the slice.
Now the frozen microwave style may work in a pinch,
Delivery or the hot and ready special can satisfy
My personal hunger glitch, for that tasty pizza pie,
As long as can get it, I’m satisfied.
Oh grant me one pleasures sinful command to break
Dearest lord above, to indulge myself, and stuff
Myself with pizza, pizza until I burst, for gluttony is
One distractions fault I have dear father, when it
Comes to this circle food, as it spins on the nightly
Commensals boob tube.
Is it not against the law to hide messages within
Certain text, because I swear these advertisers
Know our fragile human weaknesses, late at night
For  this delectable substance, called what
Pizza, if I haven’t mentioned it enough,
Yummy, yum, yum old chum.
It’s the party hardy mid-night special, on all
Channels of the United States of America,
There is no doubt of this, rock my world
In flavorful old time favorite, dude I’m
With you all the way, especially on a 
Friday night.
This is my declaration of independence
Declared in Italian sauces redden stainy ink,
Give me Pizza or give me death, just kidding
Folks, by the way do you want that last
Pizza slice, I’m not quite full yet, lol.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN


Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015


Details | America Poem | |

A MILESTONE

Dismal stars out
Contrite to feelings
The moon glows brightly.
The storm is inside.
Tears form as I cry.

Regret, I don’t.
Have I done wrong?
Here and now stand
Weeping for hope.

Willow tree
Sways in wind
Vision rapt

Hope gales.
Godspeed!

Life
|_______________________|
 Penned on January 02, 2015!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2015


Details | America Poem | |

In This Land

                              In This Land

In this land there is a mighty voice that can
sing a mighty song.

Often it is a song of I don’t belong and all sort
of other things that are wrong.

This mighty voice can herald itself in the
grateful praise of being strong.

All while asking what else is to be spawn in a
struggle to do no wrong.

Should it be we shall live in all eternal
knowing wrong being strong.

It is God’s place to be so strong and
to know all wrong.

So it is in praise to him we should knell as we
spawn our grateful song.

There is one more thing in his Love
eternal song

We all belong.

Copyright © John Hardison | Year Posted 2015


Details | America Poem | |

I never left you

     I NEVER LEFT YOU

When youthful restless hearts hear defining calls
With volcanic strength they will respond
The impetus for adventure overrides
All rational thoughts, out of window they go
For youth knows no bounds of daring appeal

Twenty I was, when I heard the “buzz”,
With gusto and a lick of good sense I made the run
Carpe Diem was my exalted, exuberant cry
So I followed the path to places to me unknown
To her, I whispered with pain and sorrow
I must seek what the world to my lot bestowed
But be assured that one day for you I shall return 
Feeling liberated and not knowing why
Effusive and with feigned bravery I bid to all farewell
The beyond had the smell of fragrant thrills 
From America to America my journey began
Imbued with hope, dreams, and strong will
I began carving a new life, a new beginning 
Dreams, goals ,and desires within me abounded
To fail was never a contemplated option
For failure the young bravely defies

All those memories of a half century ago
Come back to me in flares and bursts of fading energies
Now that I am approaching the sunset of my days
Wondering wastefully how it might have been
Had I not pursued the Echo of that life changing call
That outcome will never to me be known
But oh! How I long and yearn for that love I bid farewell
My ashes will one day fertilize a seed above that green hill
From that seed a tree will grow into a refuge
To shelter, in hot, sunny or stormy days, living fragile things
Then I shall sleep eternally in tranquil peace
Knowing that I kept, though belated to her my promise 
And in serene harmony, proclaim, “I never left you my beloved Brazil”'.

Copyright © Ernandes Fialo | Year Posted 2015


Details | America Poem | |

I'm Very Thankful

I’m Very Thankful!
 
I’m very thankful for everything the Lord has made...
Everything he’s created…  His beauty is displayed!
 
I’m very thankful for the breath I have to breathe…
Until that one day, from this earth, I shall leave.
 
I’m very thankful for the way God has made so evident.
The principles of his word…  Are so relevant!
 
I’m very thankful for the beauty and glory he’s shown…
It has brought blessings and healing to my home!
 
I’m very thankful for the many things he’s done for me…
He’s given me his love which flows abundantly!
 
I’m very thankful that each day,..  Is another to live for him…
He’s taken away my pain and has forgiven every sin.
 
I’m very thankful that I can write
 these words from my heart.
I know that he’s with me.  And he’ll never depart!
 
I’m very thankful that you’re reading
 what I’ve been saying…
May this cause you to once again start praying!
 
I pray that this same Jesus I know…
 Who’s merciful and kind…
Will speak words of hope to you
 and give you a peace of mind.
 
I pray that before you go to bed and this day has ended.
You’ll allow Christ to have your heart “amended.”
 
Thank you Lord!  For what you’ve
 done and are going to do…
It’s another way that I can say 
 “I LOVE YOU!”
 
Thank you Lord!  For all that I‘ve 
received and so much more…
You’ve made my life complete… 
And are worth living for!
 
By Jim Pemberton   01/25/11

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2014


Details | America Poem | |

A CALL FOR LIBERTY

America has another name
her name is Freedom
hidden behind political, racial, medical
Federal banks
economical, educational, social
all fixed corporations
means extra banks
we the people protest our freedom
we’re calling for freedom
America show us our freedom
life requires no credits to score
we are enlightened beings
so much more
so much more than rich man, poor man
Groundhog-----going in circles
working 15 hours a day man
we’re calling for freedom
liberty is our birthright
to roam the earth at will is our birthright
we are freedom
we say freedom
America live up to your name
your name is Freedom
freedom is the word
word is law
America follow the law
the law says freedom
we demand truth
we demand mental freedom

Copyright © BLUE33 NailahBaniti | Year Posted 2015