Ode Patriotic Poems | Ode Poems About Patriotic

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Details | Ode |

Love is a Sacrifice

You have my soul, but you have your fate Whatever your words, I’m willing to take You have my word; I’ll give you my breath It’s like a chain that would never be break You are my love with all my heart, I’ll fight for you with all my might. And in the way, you admire your goals, You hold my hands, but not so close. As you go to your chosen path, I’ll accept the fact that we will be apart. In the dark side, I leave behind Within my faith, that you’ll arise Please don’t look back, coz I’m fighting still I’m hurting so much! Don’t want to have you near I accept my fate for what it does, I’m bleeding so much, do you know for whom it was? You reach your goals, as you want to have, Would you remind the man that gave what he had? As you reach the stars, and be the one Be a sun that shines its own. After the rain, the rainbow comes, Like dark in the moon, when the light flash A glimpse from you at least a short For then I knew my pain is worth.

Copyright © Emmanuel Fajutagana | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |


Our first image of a gorgeous black Aphrodite
To inhabit the halls of power with charm,
Mrs. Obama moves over the sacred fields deftly
Reclaiming the realm with femininine form.
Sensuously challenging those who dare deny
Her right to bare her bronze sun-kissed skin
As the queen in a staid pallid white world,
She assumes her role with no hint of giving in.

A worthy image of beauty to accompany a giant of a man,
Mrs. Obama came riding eastward her sword at her side.
She planned for an agenda about change most would scorn,
As a product of northern honing oil and heartland pride.
And she feared not the hard and awful destiny ahead
For a beautiful black woman in a loveless town;
As she brought her fashion for elegance and flair,
Allowing a gawking world to see her face was brown.

As a Capricorn, Mrs. O keeps her keen focus on success,
Never surrendering to impatience, doubt or hesitation.
Her aim is narrow and exact, skillfully chosen
And moored on a carefully thought out foundation.
So doing she has inspired black women to reach higher
And see themselves as lovely creatures of great worth,
Endowed by God to motivate, teach, feed and entertain,  
With her nurturing, an emerging color diverse earth.

Copyright © Albert Price | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode |

The Indian soldiers

They are like the Roman aegis protecting the nation,
Their  valour defines the strength and courage of nation,
For them success is not wealth or fame rather it is martyrdom,
They have the courage of a lion, discipline of the nature, always full of moxie to deal with the foe,
Our sleep is their gift for they look for enemy from the siachen,
Their enemy is the enemy of nation,
Their  eyes are full of dreams for the nation, wants to behold  nothing  but  victory against the enemy, 
Their  palms have the fortune of thousands,
Their blood is more pious than the water of ganges or the zamzam,
Their mere thought welled up my eyes with tears for the ineffable sacrifice they make for the nation,
Their life is the life of nation and their death immerse the nation in sorrow, 
Their  existence define the incredible and ineffable India ,
Salute ,a thousand salute to the  valour of my protectors.

Copyright © mohd naeem khan | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ode |

This Feeling of Indian

We lie
We shy,
We fight
We cry,
We vary
We envy,
We love
We sacrify,
Innumerous ways to unite.
A spirit which dignifies
Above all highs,

Lies an INDIAN inside.

Copyright © Rajat Kumar | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode |

Ode to River Indus

O, dear Indus,the witness of millenniums’
History, traditions and culture
You feed us with your sweet water
And in your lap you us nurture

You might be a mighty channel
Of flowing water for the world
On your course with water southward
Moving, marching, whirled

But of cousre for our nation
No doubt You are, but the life
which quenches our thirst, and
Grows for us grain in rife

You, dear Indus,like our mother
And of course our culture’s cradle
You feed us with all your love
With your sweet water by a ladle

You, in the length and breath
Of our dear motherland
Make our life so lofty,
And make our living grand

The originator of the culture
Of the ancient Indus Valley
Begin for us form Monserver
And keep on your untiring sally

Through mountains and forests
And over the vast plains
And stretch across the valley
Through your countless veins

That infuse life in us all
And teach us not to give up
Through your untiring efforts
We learn how to live up

You witness of valiant accounts
Of gallant sons and daughters
Tell us to continue and carry on
With your sally of waving waters

With your water pure you nourish
Not only our bodies but our souls
And make us strong, determined
To get whatever we set our goals

Yes you are, but our beingness
Land without you for us sear !
You are great and strong and,
For you we live, you for us, dear !

Copyright © Zulfiqar Ali Bhatti | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ode |

Ode to Spain, Translation of Carlos Bousono's poem: Oda a Espana

Ode to Spain, Translation of Carlos Bousono’s poem : Oda a Espana

					(before the Civil War)

(Alejandro Duque Amusco draws attention - in his selection of Carlos Bousono’s poems – to 
the fact that José Luis Cano considers Bousono to be the poet who re-introduced the theme of 
« patriotism » in the poetry of the post-Civil War (1936-39) era. T. Wignesan)

Oh ! Spain ! the land where
while one fighting bull assailed, another kills.
Drunks flying without direction in the stars
seek to ascend shirt-sleeves at the cuffs.

At the meeting points of unfortunate demise
and of living it up, the merrymaking
goes on until midnight. Accordeons.
More wine. Applause. Uproars. Whistlings. Nausea.

In the midst of this wild revelry, a priest militarily surges up.
Imposes benedictions and awards medals.
He climbs up upon a chair. Harangues the crowd.
A general rising up in the thick of battle. 

In the hardened and deserted arenas
on the route of bitter thirst,
multitudes of drunks bracing themselves against the wind,
staggered at the rising of the sun.

One of them was dressed as a bull-fighter.
Another laughed to himself. All were dancing.
In the treeless plain swept by wind : persistent hunger,
Spain stammered and choked.

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2013

Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode |

The Mother Of All Nations

America is the mother of all nations,
she gathers her children under
one beautiful flag that forever
is a testimony of pride and greatness!

America welcomes everybody who struggles
and shelters them under her protective wings;
whoever held on a lovely dream, but it was 
never realized: " Soon it will! " she promises.

America holds out her long arms of generosity,
to anyone seeking refuge from dire poverty
and tyranny to share the ideals of democracy:
to whoever is oppressed, she offers liberty!

America is the only safe shore for those
battered by high waves and wild winds;
come to her harbor away from the drifting waters:
she will hear the cry of freedom in every voice!

Written on 6/ 30/2017

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2017

Details | Ode |

just a vet'ran - cobwebs turning into dust

     Just a vet'ran - Cobwebs turning into dust

       He's a teen out of the 60's - now wrinkled on his brow.
 Did not need to be drafted --  woulda' signed up anyhow
  'Cause He grew up with Kennedy and this county is his pride.
 When John was killed in 63, his whole classroom cried.
 Did Oswald have inside help? He ponders who and why.
 Thought back when a young soldier it was a small sacrifice
 for Viet Nam to live free - 'twas worth the threat to life.
 As he aged into a man and those around him died,
 what kept him going was his world and he would be their prize.
  back home there was no parade and few could see his side.

 He's just a vet'ran and there's not much he can do
  He has buried some old mem'ries 'cause he's tired of feelin' blue
  Just a vet'ran. Now Politicians he don't trust
  and the plaque and the ribbons are just cobwebs turning into dust.

 Once little sleep for nightmares that played over and over 
  if one whispered,     "incoming",   he'd awake and dive for cover.
  Most dreams have slowly faded, ----- thanks to the hands of time
 yet he still thinks of his buddies and the ways thay had to die.
  now he's hurtin' from old war wounds and hasn't worked for some time.
 He's a vet'ran that's been swallowing his pride.
  Never thought he'd need a handout, now that cannot be denied.
  Just a vet'ran and the VA he must use
 as a means for survival - there are few ways left for him to choose. 

 He watched the tube in the 90s of Iraq's "Desert Storm",
  with its threats of poison gas and stench of burning oil
  And he's hoping for those soldiers, it would not be like before.
  But as it was with Viet Nam, some got sick and died
 and like it was with Agent Orange - the war's causes were denied.

 Now, almost half a century since he had to do his tour
  he's Recalling fiery suicides that caused this Afghan war.
  Pious men of influence want power and much more.
  had peers with conscience stood up to them -  there'd be less cause for war.
 He blames extreme religion promoting hatred for all the horror.
 He's just a vet'ran and there's not much he can do
 He has buried some old mem'ries 'cause he's tired of feelin' blue
 Just a vet'ran. Some pious people he lost his trust
 and the plaque and the ribbons are just cobwebs turning into dust. 

 Yes, the mem'ries are fading -  now they're cobwebs turning into dust.

Copyright © ken hayden | Year Posted 2015

Details | Light Poetry |

Ode to the President

Ode to the President

As Commander and Chief you took an oath,
To lead the us on a path, of economic growth,
Opposition at your feet, never conceding defeat,
A battle well fought, are words bearing repeat!

As an advocate for clean energy, both here and abroad,
Your agenda on climate change; put us all on one accord.
Mended relations with Cuba, has opened many doors,
For business deals and travel ease, like the memories of 54’!

Our seniors’ see the light, at the tunnels grim dark end,
With healthcare reform, many faces are wearing a grin.
Your accomplishments are many, and I’ve listed just a few,
With purpose driven vision, results are always in plain view!

Eight years is but a short time, to bring back normalcy,
To the United States of America, the land that we call “Free”

Written By: Sarita A. Milliner © 2/11/16

Note To the Reader!

This poem is written from my individual thoughts, with no underlying intent to promote, influence nor discount ones' political views. 

Copyright © Sarita Milliner | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ode |


They marched past my lane warriors all
Smart green fatigues, mirthful soldiers tall,
Hats inclined, their buttons shining bright
Boots drumming into a warming light,
Young hearts harking to their nation’s call.

I laud mother’s who have given birth
To lads seeking a heavenly berth,
Spurning their tomorrows’ for others
Courting death for sake of their brothers,
They are but heavens’ glory on earth.

They melted into that day of June
Unsung heroes in a blazing noon,
Cheered by townsfolk bidding them goodbye
Packing them to battle fields to die,
Their wreaths being readied as festoon.

Their bravery in battles I read 
On alien soil they lay and bled,
Spilling pure blood of mothers’ somewhere – 
Whose tears of valour only pride can bear,
Their flesh ceded to the land of dead.

O’ History on your pages I smote
That heavens’ pen this bloodied note,
Of unsung heroes who gave their breath
Quartered their flesh at altars of death,
Patriots for whom praises it quote.

Copyright © Amar Agarwala | Year Posted 2017

Details | Limerick |

An Ode To A Tree

Maple trees are a symbol of Canada, our great land It's leaf is featured on our flag we're a friendly band Of peace loving folks Friendship we evoke Spoken by a true Canuck, covering my heart with ny hand

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2017

Details | Personification |

Ode To Oval

*My beloved Oval, I fear that my words fall short of what I am feeling in my heart.  May you accept these few lines of love  as my best effort of expressing my concern for you. I have heard much about you, but I have yet to visit and meet you in person.  The pictures of you are rather striking and stunning.                                                                                                                                                    

It was during the 90's that I first became gravely concerned about what seemed to me, 'a tarnishing' of your office.  Circumstances surrounding your occupants caused a great deal of weeping in my soul.  It appeared as if the dark clouds of contamination were setting over you, and determined to drive out the awe and aromatic presence of your enduring reverence. Nevertheless, like the giant I always believed you to be, you came roaring back to a place of renown in the early 2000's.  And Oval, it was so good to have you back.  A new leader so deserving of your atmosphere took great lengths to restore the sacredness that was so rightfully due.  I tell you Oval, the reality of your presence and power is so pervasive that it extends far beyond your palatial walls.  For centuries you have adorned the shoulders of presidents in attire befitting their sacred trust.

Again, I stand aghast that I am observing a cloud of low regard for your office. Oval, this concern is not about presidents. More than 40 presidents have sat in your room, but you are still here.  Presently, you are the one I am concerned about. It's my duty to speak up for you at this "high tide" of divisiveness.

Oval, in closing, there are many forces parading through our country; and it appears that these opposing forces are conspiring for a 'perfect storm'.  Be advised and encouraged that much prayer is also invading the air waves.  I see indications that not only shall we prevail and survive, but we shall also thrive because of God's Good Graces and His magnanimous mercies.
09292017 PS Contest, Early October Standard, Brain Strand                                                                                                                                       Personification Form	                                                                                                             *Oval: The Oval Office in The White House

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2017