Verse Soldier Poems

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Details | Free verse |
Introducing: Nate & Linda

The smile on my lips
is forced and coerced
I pretend to pay attention
give the best possible advice
everyone praises me
I'm so kind, polite and nice
It's all just automation
I rarely actually listen
certainly don't care
all I'm doing
is playing human
blending in
fitting in
I'm so perfectly hidden
you'll never even
see a curtain, 
   from where I stand
   Majoring in social events
   Put on a pedestal
   for computing with you
   I'm so perfectly hidden 
   smiling from time to time
   Labeling those 
   with all sincerity
   open soldiery  
   Passing along an appeal
   continuing to fit in
   blend in
   force program 
   Is it just me or
   am I the perfect human?

~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
Rising before me, are the graves,.. like the stars Embracing the light, while reflecting the moon The fields, vast and silent, ... never ending, the valiant Of those who had fallen, never knowing how far Some names forgotten, and some never known Crosses that grow from the wet grass below me I have lost count, as my eyes seek horizons Reflecting on lives of the soldiers, unknown Deeply I'm falling without knowing how far Into the depths of the fields that have drawn me Into reflection and into the questions Tossed into the sky, without answers to why My eyes can't believe all the sadness before me I have lost count and my heart seeks horizons Reflecting the reason, seeking answers, unknown
_________________________________________ 7/15/15

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
Unsung Hero – The Soldier

Warily he stood at the corner,
Wondering which way to turn.
A weary smile on his faded brow,
As he held out an old worn-out hat hoping for handouts,
A few miserly pennies or perhaps, even a piece of bread.

This once proud soldier,
Now reduced to being a petty beggar,
Was a remnant of a cruel war;
Where he once stood side-by-side with his comrades
And helplessly watched them fall one-by-one.

Cruel memories haunted his saddened heart,
As he each day he desperately tried to survive, 
Wondering if it would have been better
If he too on the bloody battlefield had died - 
But there was no real answer.

Maybe it was good that he had done his duty
Fighting for those who couldn’t. 
But now he was forgotten and forlorn, 
With no honor, no glory,
He was just a nobody.

With warm tears streaming down his cold cheeks,
Even now he thought of his fallen comrades, 
Questioning if they were really in a better place -
What if?

His thoughts about his tortured past
Continued to cling to him, 
Like the tattered coat 
He wore during the day,
And used for a pillow at night.

In his mind, he was still on the battlefield, 
Only this time he battled invisible foes -
A mind growing feeble, homelessness,
Hunger, loneliness, and most of all – 
Not having anyone to love him. 


Copyright © Kika Ayala | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
Veteran’s Day - 2015

This day
	all flags
	bloodied shadows
	sacred soil
	with stilled crosses.

This day
	weary soldiers

	at the few who line the streets

	to familiar cadence

	flag’s half mast history

	as Taps resounds

	each generation’s tears.

This day
	will solemnly descend

upon those
	who kept her safe.

John G. Lawless

Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2015

Details | Verse |
Only Soldiers

They are thanked for their service
by those who never served.
Commended for their bravery
by those who never donned
the colors of the country
the red, the white, the blue.

They are left alone with demons
that only they can name
seek the silent comfort
of those who know the same,
they limp alone in honor 
of the men they used to be
slowly turn invisible to
the people they keep free.

In silent nod and gesture
they salute in passing pain
bathed in thanks for service,
awash in tearless rain,
not heroes, only soldiers,
in the shadows without name.


submitted to – Being Invisible – poetry contest
sponsor – SKAT A

Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
Why do we persecute this Jesus?
this Palestinian Jew, with claim
to one almighty God?
Ahh! let me home, it’s all too
much, and no avail.

so I Longinus, leader of Pilate’s guard,
which nailed him up, (he never complained)
gave him up, his broken body to his 
mother and the crowd; Oh! pitiful
crying and moaning, gnashing of teeth
in their pious, bloody grief

yet….he spoke to me, this Arab, this Jew,
with his eyes, he looked resolute and calm:
and a smile (aghast!) he had for me.

and the earth trembled and shook;


they loved him the many, I could see,
and I spoke out loud the words that I
believed, that he was real, and one with
he above!

and they looked at me, my men, and scowled,
ahh!...who are they to know?

and time and days passed. And I deserted:

and I took on the garb of wanderer, so as to 
be free, and sensed a great commotion;
“he’s back!. He’s never dead!”
and I was led by disciples’ horny hands, for they
knew me now, to a tomb, gaping hole and door-stone 
rolled aside.

and they shouted “where is he? where’s the master?”

and a passing storm became a torrent and the rivers 
swelled and the winds blew their strong wind,
and took away the grave’s harsh stink: then as 
quickly as it had begun, a sound like the rumble 
of a quake, split the sky and sunlight, warmed 
and dried the earth around.

and there the master in shining white, 
fresh with neat trimmed beard, as if out 
for a walk with kith and kin, came.

and up on a mountain we followed to the 
top, and he spoke; but because of the great 
clamor all about him, I could only catch a 
few words,
“make new disciples,” “ teach” and something
about him always being with us.

and then (I tell no lie)…his body took up to the 
warm sky, with flowing robes and a choir of heavenly
verse, the likes of which I had never heard.

and he was gone.

and I taught his words, for some time after; and each
time I spoke I felt grown;  and so, I lived my life:

but not for long; and soon I took his place and bid 
the sorry world, this place, a painful goodbye.

and when next I saw his smile, his tearful foreign
eye; I swelled; and went to his side:

and he placed his hand in mine.

Copyright © Peter Lewis Holmes | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
You may see me out on the streets Lying curled up in a foetal position my sleeping bag in a shop doorway Trying to get a few hours sleep here in my latest home in cardboard city … I never stay more than a few nights in one place can never really settle; these streets aren’t safe You may see me out on the streets I’m sitting on the cold damp pavement with an empty coffee cup in my hand Hoping for a coin or two so I can have some real food in my aching belly Still you hurry past, trying to avoid making eye contact… Believe me, it’s so degrading rummaging in the litterbins like a wild animal But some days it’s the only way I can get any food to eat The biting cold and wet weather is my worst enemy I can never get warm even when the sun shines This is no life, just a way of surviving another day Guess you think I’m a waster, a dirty tramp You walk on by; judge me without knowing what lead me to life on the streets Bet you think I’m a druggie or an alcoholic I guess most people seem to think that They see my filthy clothes, straggly hair and grey beard Just five years ago I was like many of you I had a career, a beautiful wife, and two lovely children Spent many months away from home fighting for my country But then I got sent to Afghanistan… I saw scenes no man should ever have to witness I was traumatised Forever suffering flashbacks of the faces of those innocent people The children, oh those children – made me think of my two boys back at home I couldn’t cope any more, had a total mental breakdown I was a broken man … My wife could no longer deal with the mood swings , the erratic behaviour The Army did little to help – discharged me on health grounds, then basically abandoned me Now I’ve lost everything … my wife, family, my dignity Many of the people you see on the streets are like me … We all have a story to tell, but no one gives us the time of day Passers-by avert their eyes and hurry past like we are invisible Your eyes may tell you one thing… but please don’t judge me Because you don’t know me 07~21~15
Premiere contest #7 Sponsored by Skat A Contest Any poem meaningful to you Sponsored By Broken Wings

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
Lonely I was when I stood staring at the sky
Had a gun in my hand, was too afraid to cry
Fought bitter battles and never lived to tell
How at the altar of freedom, my body fell

My soul searches for reasons as to why I died
Did I save my people, had I tried?
Do they remember me, my deeds, my name
Are they proud of me or did I bring them shame

My battered body stood testimony to my fate
My heart had stopped in a battle brought about by hate
I had screamed in pain, and shivered with fright
But before I died, I did put up a fight

Remember me, my beloved country
It was I, my men, who brought you victory
I fought to the last bullet in my gun
I was a soldier, I was your son

Copyright © Manoj Kumar | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse |
A Tribute to Jayson, My Brave Warrior
My dear son, Jayson When you called late last night to let me know You were deploying to go overseas tomorrow In spite of my great resolve I broke down and sobbed.
The little boy I lovingly nurtured So witty and good-natured So kind, compassionate, and loving You’ll always be my sweet boy Even though the world now sees you as a grown man.
Recalling special times when I showered your baby face with kisses Or tickled your armpits Howling with laughter, you would beg me “Do it again, Mommy, I love it!”
I remember all those moments we had At times rocky, sometimes sad But most of all memorable and enjoyable. I remember your growing pains All your questions, anxieties, and mixed-up emotions Yes, we made it through hurdles you and I Making me laugh, making me cry But taking that journey together was quite priceless!
You’re now a strong, valiant, young man Willingly putting your life on the line Many have thanked you for your service And, my brave warrior, I am so proud of you When I hear your humble, heartfelt reply, “Glad to do it!”
You’re just simply the best! While you took a minute to leave the nest I’m grateful for the extra time we were given But I know It’s time to let you go – Go take your rightful place in the world.
You’ve grown wings like a fierce eagle It’s your time to fly high! Now soar! But remember that you are always a part of me And even though we may no longer hold hands We are still holding hearts.
These tear-splattered pages Reflect my anguished heart Knowing you’re prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice for your country I pray that you will return to me safe and sound I love you, my hero - my precious son. Godspeed! ¡Vaya con Dios!

Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse |
Moans echo across the lands
from the souls who are lost
drifting, searching, seeking 
forever doomed to exile.

Some brought down in their prime
foully murdered by sharpened steel
plunged into them with hatred.
Or maybe by plain greed.

Soldiers killed in needless wars
all for the rape of the innocent.
Governments hungry for more
oil, gold and other things.

Yes too, the souls of creatures
many now extinct voice their
sorrow with despairing moans.
That echo into our minds and hearts.

Mingling together they strike fear
that judders in our very being.
As we huddle in our beds shivering
knowing it is us who caused this damage 

Copyright © Shadow Hamilton | Year Posted 2015

Details | Dramatic Verse |
I envy the dust, the way it moves all free and careless,
released from it’s sleeping state the thunderous pounds 
of late shelling, again endless. 

Muffled shouting, through this trench confounding,

Mustard attack, gas mask aside, fingers in fumbling fight
bitter cold night in a field. 

No fireside, food to bite
cigarettes to smoke and mates to joke.

last one gone two days ago up one minute then vanished in a puff of smoke.

this place is beyond reality, it’s beyond insanity 
fighting for earth no mother walked nor father built.

If they want to fight then bring it to my hills, not this flat wasteland of mud, blood, bones and chills.

We were thrown into this bloody war,
and we wont have our say, like we've never had before.

Taken to the slaughter history will say, 
throwing ourselves forward like tidal-waves. 

Waves on waves of sacrificial lunacy again and again.

we've taken little ground and this other trench looks bad, worse than ours 
doesn't looked heavily manned looks like we lost more man.

What do we gain now? apart from more time in thought.

those withered layers of rotting feverish flesh, one part is fresh 
the other pure dread. 

captain is shouting, up on my legs 
what’s going on...conscious or dead?

Copyright © Paul K K | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
It’s not what she hears that day
No. It’s what she sees, 
The image very nearly killed her
The neighbours say the scream was heard two blocks away
Though she can’t recall hearing what was said

No. It’s what she sees alright
Even to this day, she can feel the envelope
She can see the “WESTERN UNION” through the milky window
What she doesn’t hear, is what the Telegram Boy had to say

She still has the Telegram
Its yellow parchment a little brittle, the typed words 
“HIS DEEP REGRET THAT YOUR SON…” a little smudged, tears she guesses
Though she doesn’t remember any tears, they came later
Along with the pain of not knowing, and the sorrow of knowing

Then almost a year to that day, it’s not what she hears
But what every mother would want to see
What every mother would want to feel
And every mother would dearly love to hear
“Hello mum, I’m home…”

8 May 2015
Craig Cornish’s Poetry Contest “A Mother’s Ears”

Copyright © Mark Trichet | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
You Walked Away

I carried it always
		…that scarf
					….….as you walked away.

Wore it as a knight
				……in my lady’s colours.

soothed myself
		…with its soft texture
breathed deeply
		…….. imagined scent
					……long faded.

Wrapped my wound in it
			….tied tightly
					……a tourniquet
							….to stem the loss of blood

		….from death’s coldness.

…………it would work

as I shivered
		……on that day
				……you walked away…….

John G. Lawless

Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
Thoust message rings,
But it is a wretched beauty.
Sew up thine tongue;
It forks in many directions,
Ensnaring, passing through the centers,
Weaving a thread gleaming, deceivingly white,
Yet drenched in the black goo,
The sticky gobs of our source, our blood.
Cast aside thine needle,
Let time make it blunt.
Wallow in thine sorrow,
But only for a moment.
Up, up with you!
The sticky gobs cannot protect thee.
See me, Hear me.
For I see thee...
Thou hast split thine tongue
To hide, to forget.
Thine forked words, black to all, clear to me.
Go on, go ahead,
Walk through its enveloping black.
And when you cannot run,
And when you can’t do that anymore, 
Find someone to carry you.
Thou art strong!
Let thine center give you new feet!
If even thine center falls weary,
I shalt be thine legs.
I shalt carry you, my friend.

Copyright © Lauren Johnson | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
My mama, my soldier
my comfort, my shoulder
to cry on, my boulder
I rely on I've told her
Nothing can replace the person that created you
someone there to help you no matter what you're going through
Someone who formed the person you became
someone who has sheltered you through waves and waves of rain
I can't say it enough, I love you with my whole heart
you're there to put me back together every time I fall apart
My mama, my soldier
my comfort, my shoulder
to cry on, my boulder
I rely on I've told her
Mama I hope I forever make you proud
but you know I'll always test your patience as much as I'm allowed
I know that you've forgiven all the stupid **** I've done
and you've dealt with so much stress to ensure my childhood was fun
I'm forever grateful for everything you've sacrificed for me
I hope I am that apple that didn't all far from the tree
My mama, ya dove you
put no one above you
life might push and shove you
but I'll always love you
My mama, my soldier
my comfort, my shoulder
to cry on, my boulder
I rely on I've told her

Copyright © Eric Schojan | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
A lot of people take freedom, liberty, and even sleep for granted. They don't understand what it takes for them to be afforded those priveledges. They don't know how it feels to be on edge about everything that you hear. They don't know how it feels to be afraid to sleep. The don't know about the thunderous boom sound that makes your heart beat as fast as it can that becomes as normal as a telephone ring. You never know when or where the next boom will be, but you stay on edge hoping that it doesn't come in your direction. You lose sleep worrying about yourself, your friends, if you will ever see your children, if you will ever enjoy the place you call home, if you will go home as normal as you were when you left. Sometimes you find yourself alone with your thoughts and you just think about all the what ifs and find yourself filled with regret. There will be people giving advice, but they will never truly understand what you are going through. I guess we all find our way back to sanity eventually. We just have to learn how to make the crazy things normal. This is the path that we chose. These are the choices we made. We chose to support the country, no matter how big, or how small the role is that we have here. This is what separates us from everyone else. This is the life of a deployed soldier.

Copyright © tanyea toney-massie | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |
My own life
Buried 6 feet under
Under the humiliation 
Under the laughter
Under the teasing
Under the thought that I am less of a person
That I am less of person
That I should be less of me
My casket is a broken cocoon 
My mind finally at peace 
My parents siblings and family all stand to there feet
The gospel is spoken 
I'm lifted up to heaven
When I've awoken 
I'm just back in hell again

Copyright © Joi Jones | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
The war is over
The war continues in my mind
Seeing in my mind's eye my first kill

"He's mine, I saw him first," I told the other soldiers
The boom of my rifle echoing in my ears
My eyes watching the video in my head
He fell head first, legs kicking in the air
Then stillness

The stench of vomit filling my nostrils
Sick to my stomach
Whom am I to take another's life
Am I a good man or a bad man
A question of many a soldier

Hell became the norm after many more kills
War is hell
If only I
Maybe if
The war continues in my mind



Copyright © Shirley Rebstock | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
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 | Year Posted 2006

Details | Free verse |
A young man
Just before he was sent overseas
To fight in the war
Found his mate to be

Every-night he prayed
That he would come
Back alive
To his one and only

The night before he left
He married
His beloved

And as he boarded the plane
He looked back
And saw his wife in tears
But she was still
Strong enough to salute him
Before he entered the plane

He sent her postcards
And letters
Whenever he could
But they were few and far between

One day his wife
Stopped getting letters
And she knew
He wasn't going
To be coming
Home ever again

One day a knock came
On her door
She opened it
To two army officers
And she knew
The news
She was fixin' to get

When she heard
He was dead
She broke down
And sobbed
Like her heart was just ripped out

But she will never
Stop loving
Her travelin' soldier
Even though
He is dead

Copyright © Julie Leigh Rodeheaver | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
The world will never know how much I love you
The feeling you give me when I see you is enough to bring me to tears
The world will never know how softly you kiss my skin and make my mind melt
The world will never know how you asked me to be yours forever and how close you held me
Like I was sand and if you let go the wind might blow me away
The world will never know the way you caress my insecurities and slay my demons with your words
The world will never know that on the outside you are normal, but on the inside you can fly, your superman
But I am your kryptonite and I make you venerable, but without me you are weak
The world will never know how you protect me from the thick black tears of depression
You kiss my wounds put on my wrists from other people
The world will never know how you saved me from a dangerous fate of a twisted rope of hopelessness
The world will never know how you are everything to me and that without you, I am nothing
The world will never know that m willing to sit and wait for your return from a cruel outside world
You are my hero and you fight not just for me but for everyone
The world will never know that im your reason for fighting like hell
The world will know in the end that I will always be yours
No matter what 

Copyright © Panda Note | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
You stood on the battlefield
with no man-made weapons
in your hands

You held GOD'S greatest weapon
called FAITH to help you stand

JESUS was your Commander
HE guided you everyday
HE ordered your footsteps
through your PRAYERS and FAITH

you stood proud with
your head held high
You fought the good fight
You fought for your life

you lost the war, but,
your battle was won

You received the highest Medal of Honor
All of us, hope, someday we will earn

Your Medal of Honor is the Key to Heaven
No more battles for you to fight

In Heaven, you have a new body,
a new soul, a new spirit
Your Badge of Courage is
Eternal Life

Copyright © ROSALYN LAMPKIN | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |
For more details, please see my Blog dated 7th April 11 
'In India, a new Revolution is in the offing'

A New  Hope shown by Anna Hazare in India

A new torch is there in your hands,  dear Anna Hazare*,
A torch by which you are waking up the souls
Of millions and millions of our sleeping citizens.

To wake up and to remove the curses created by many of our
Corrupt bureaucrats and down to earth polluted politicians,
Such people inspire only directly or indirectly in my country 
Violence, crime, corruption, and greedy coalitions.

No words are sufficient to thank you, O soldier of Gandhi,
As by non-violence, only Gandhi wanted to change the society.

God has given you an opportunity to do something,  
O bold soldier
Several hundred thousands are standing with you and 
Millions would join your campaign for removing the curse of corruption,
Effecting our country and many countries of the world,
All these are the result of ever-increasing greed and misdeeds of many such bureaucrats and politicians,
Such people are ruining many countries of the world by their 
Ever increasing lustful temptations for money and greed for power and pelf.

In an era when the world is facing its new Renaissance of knowledge and awakening,
We salute your guts and efforts to bring a wind of change in my country.

Just keep walking with the torch of courage and hopes you have lighted,
As millions and millions more are waiting to join your efforts or 
Waiting to start a campaign like this in every country, 
As all the nations of the world are facing the tortures created by unworthy bureaucrats
and politicians.
Keep the torch high to light up the nation with a new light,
Our dear soldier Anna Hazare. 

Kanpur India 08th April 2011

Anna Hazare* .  Anna Hazare is a 73 years old man and  one of India's 
well-acclaimed social activists. A former soldier in the Indian army, 
Anna is well known and respected for upgrading the ecology and
economy of the village of Ralegan Siddhi which is located in the 
drought prone Ahmednagar district of Maharashtra state

Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |
 They didn't ask for pity - they didn't ask for praise! 
 They didn't ask for medals - or military parade!
 They didn't ask for sorrow - when we laid them in their graves! 
 And they didn't ask to be hero's - but that's what they became,
 When Johnny, came marching home! 
 When Johnny came marching home that day, "OO-RAH"! "OO-RAH"! 
 They gave him NO hearty welcome then, "OO-RAH"! "OO-RAH"!  
 Yes some men did shout and women spat, and the boys with clout, they all turned  
 They were ALL so brave then, when Johnny came marching home! 
 But those who spat and the boys with clout did not know what they spoke about, 
 but they all came out to blame Johnny for marching home!
 They all came out to blame Johnny for coming home!
 Yes, they were ALL, SO BRAVE, when Johnny came marching home on crutches
 with just one leg that day!   "OO-RAH" SOLDIER! 
 We promised we'd take care of them but 
 Somehow those noble words, like one old soldier said, 
 Don't die, they just fade away!
 Which one of you would have held a dying friend, all through that God-less night, 
 Bleeding, crying, dying, after a bloody fire-fight, 
 Trying the best you could to call in a Huey, and get him on a medevac flight at first
 light! Which one of you would have pick-up that fallen soldiers gun and just kept
 going on? 
 Which one of you would have fought again, until the battles won!  
 Instead we built a wall of stone / for the soldiers who did fall / then carved their
 names upon it, and called that welcome home!  
 They fought for the red, white and blue, all American soldiers, who fought for the
 red, white and YOU!
 And a family waits with pride, see, they just got word, only two more days and
 he'd be coming home for good.  Then at the door, two soldiers stood in the shadow
 of twilights glow, it seemed so surreal, but also apropos.
 With folded flag, of the stars and stripes in hand, at attention they did stand.  
 Then, with solemn grace and dignity said the words all families dread!
 "On behalf of a grateful nation, he fought the bravest  fight"!
 But with deepest sympathy, your soldier-son, won't be coming home tonight!
 They didn't ask for pity - they didn't ask for praise!
 They didn't ask to be hero's - but that's what they became!

Copyright © Tim Collins | Year Posted 2015

Details | Dramatic Verse |
I’m here, in this terror.
 Blood, blood puddles everywhere
like after a demonic storm of rain, but instead it’s human red liquid .
leaking and escaping.  
More of it appears
at each second .
Tick, splat. Tock splat 
two more bodies morphed into
devastating dead corpses floating in scarlet lakes. 
Lives lost; heartless killing!

 It could have been me. 
Boom! Went the exploding grenade ... I couldhave been dead, but I’m still here. Around me soldiers running away from thestomp of guns like human ants marching rapidly from their hunter, without a plan and without the guarantee of survival. 
Millions of bullets shooting in
every direction, I cannot even detect from which direction they are coming
Murdering happens here because of forced hatred, 
which is inhumane... whoever
started the chapter of this horrific and barbaric dystopian novel should be ashamed.
On my side – dead intimidating bodies of my friends that I will never see
talking again- that have risked their lives for this country. I respect them.
 Ilooked at my blood covered hands; my blood is still within me. But for how much
longer? Some nearly dead people gasping for help, wishing to be at home right


Remembering the smell of freshly baked delicious bread that
was placed on the table every morning. My little daughter running happily down the
stairs ready for school, and my gentleman-like elder son always pulling the
chair out for her. My wife always had everything so well managed I just don’t
know how she did it, but I love her she is the best thing in my life. We all sat
with smiles on our faces and the sun peeking in on us happily shines on our
tired faces. Optimism flowing from all of our souls except mine. They all were prepared
to start the new day. My children for school and my wife for work and to cook
something ambrosial for us to eat at dinner. 
She would have put a lot of work in to her cooking, but yet I still
complained, I yelled at my children and never had time for them as I was so self-centred.
I hurt their feelings forgetting to go to their school plays, I been so
horrible-definitely not the kind of dad they would deserve... Can they ever
forgive me? I hope I get another chance, show them a different life, they
should be able to depend on me –most importantly, they should be able to trust
me. I hope it’s not too late to show that I have learned, from my mistakes. I
want to praise them as they deserve.


Holding back
tears full of regret, my morals are confused and my mind is apprehensive. Will
I ever see my family again? I am going insane. Now I wish I stayed home, but it
would seem like I’m giving up, after all this did teach me a valuable lesson in
life .This war is sickening to the stomach filled with brutality and ghastly
behaviour. Cold blooded, temper less and outrageous; actions. 

Pain –
everyone is feeling pain that is unimaginable. Here braveness and risking play
a very important role… If no risky decisions were taken we all would probably be
dead by now. I see people crying, young soldiers crying like babies as they
weren’t aware of the level of danger that was waiting for them. Now they just
want to believe it is just a dream. Factually speaking, all what is happening
is a test of self will and goodness. On how you will behave towards others in
life threatening circumstances. Will you be into act of selfishness?  


The Loudness is outrageous, shoot! Bam! Boom! Pam! Shut in
from every viewpoint ... My orientation is fading- I’m unable to concentrate incapable
of stabilizing my thoughts; my heart is pounding five times more rapid than its
usual beat. I have no idea where to secrete; none of what others examine seems
to work. Where’s my group? 

Maybe they left me behind. I have to take every possibility
into consideration; but teamwork is important here as it’s leaning on reliability
and forgiveness. Life is the most precious thing you can ever have. We all have
a life which is on same tier level. But, killing a life just shouldn’t happen.  We all will die one day its natural .You cannot
escape unpredictable death. No matter how much you would want life to pause it
won’t- for anybody. I’m sick and tired of this place I will get out of here
alive... I think, I have to do it for my family.

My family that I long to back home, I know I will adore
every single second spend with them. I just pray I return safe and sound and
can cuddle my wife again...

Copyright © Rozalia Polnik | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
As he knelt 
to kiss the ground
tears gathered in my eyes
hands flew to my mouth
and my heart swelled with feeling.

I soared with him
as he straightened
and began to run.

Surely his heart would burst
as he gathered his wife
in a tight embrace and reached
to touch his son.

Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2015

Details | Blank verse |
Becoming a Soldier
I stand in line
My number is up
I want to run
But it is my duty to serve
I’m only 18 but they tell me I’m a man now
I don’t even know how to wash my own clothes
But soon I will be fighting for my life and yours
I have never killed anything in my life
But now everything has changed
It is me against them
Kill or be killed
I will watch as my friends die alongside me
I will see women and children slaughtered and cities burned
I will carry these images with me for life
I am told this is my duty and my responsibility
I am hated by some and a hero by others
My only hope is to return home in one piece
For only those who have experienced war can truly understand
That war never ends
You just learn to live amongst the battleground within you

Copyright © Christine Shuster | Year Posted 2015

Details | Verse |
It was a woodcut in our high school history text, Unit 4 Beginnings of the
      Modern World, that so disturbed,
from the Nuremburg Chronicles depicting "the burning of the Jews," flat
faces of the victims among flames, in no particular agony, not especially
during the Black Death 1/3 of Europe died 1347-1351 alone. Although
you die together you die alone.
                                           Earlier that week
I had attended our 6th grade's performance of Fiddler on the Roof,
at first thinking
Coltrane should have recorded Matchmaker as a bookend to My
      Favorite Things
but as the play darkened
with the town's absorption into the diaspora, democracy
yet unthought of and rule of law a fig leaf for authority
Jasper, who played Zero Mostel, delivered his line well to the effect
you're just doing your jobs while wrecking our lives.

Anyway, nothing like that is happening here, is it?
The gardener planting tomatoes, the gravedigger finding skulls,
there is so much life a little death won't matter.
I'm reading Bloom in the Times, how
anyone who doesn't believe Israel should exist is by definition
Come to find out, I may fall into that category - not that Israel shouldn't
but as a so-called Jewish state
any more than a Muslim or Christian land. To some,
Jewishness is not a religion, it's an ethnicity. You have no problem
with the Swedish state, do you?
Should the Swedes be expected to open their borders to the Finns?

was a beautiful ham,
big as Zero.
                  A friend posed
this question: must all states be melting pots like the United States?
I said yes
not because they should but since
it's inevitable. Let labor flow like capital!
I hate when people disagree with me.
I get angry.
When a plate breaks, it asserts another possibility.
America was the last word of the play and brought a tear of pride to my

Immigration, exasperating argument re the Other.
How many's more than enough? 9 billion, a rational,
real number that exceeds or
                                       we're convinced
is within the carrying capacity of the planet.
Climate change is the new Black Death.
I like the Amerindian body type and face mixed in with the European,
The irrepressible economy rolls out reams of logs, ores of elements, bags
      of ice, fields of rice.
Embargo. The moon stares, bare, full of interstellar space.
Better a cold shoulder than a visit from our military.
The crazy Nazis must have felt themselves extraordinarily compassionate
      toward the mother, earth, the goddess, history, or some such
      abstraction and, thus, acted on a fraction of all they did not know.
Selfless soldiers just doing their jobs expanding the border or,
on the other hand, collecting fagots for "the burning of the Jews."

Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015

Details | Verse |
He saw her holding up a sign: "Welcome Home Daddy", scrawled in red crayon by a blue-eyed angel. After months in the desert this soldier found his oasis.
Kim Merryman Giveme A Sign contest by Nette Onclaud 5/16/15

Copyright © Kim Merryman | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
In the beginning before you, there was only the desolate darkness.
Just like in the Bible, two people were created for each other.
The creation of a beautiful paradise just for you and I.
To spend our precious time together in lovely bliss forever high.
The only differences are that it ain't called Eden, I'm not Adam, you're not Eve.
And a place where evil cannot enter to taint your pure and jovial soul.
So worry not about the evil snake because I'm there to fend it off.
Your safety and sanity are my utmost priority for eternity.
God gave me full responsibility to ensure this world does not fall into calamity.
I shall share all the burden that you carry so that you can be happy.
To ensure that you and I can sustain our dream to be happy together.
Because only when you're happy then can that dream truly become our future.
For this is my holy duty as your soldier of pain.

This is a slightly modified verse from a rap I wrote (under the same title of this poem/verse) dedicated to my clinically depressed ex-girlfriend whom I loved dearly to cheer her up but ultimately made her feel worse for some reason and she broke up with me. The verse is about me trying my absolute best to protect my ex from all the pain or sadness that she may be susceptible to due to her depression as making her happy was one of my promises to her, which I failed to honor...

I'm not here for sympathy but I'm posting it here so that at least someone else can read it and hopefully enjoy it. :-) 

Oh and it's not meant to be religious either since both of us are not, I just used the Bible as an inspiration for this verse.

Copyright © Shawn Tan | Year Posted 2016