Best D Day Poems | Poetry
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New D Day Poems
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by Martinez, Johnny
D Day 6th June 1944
by Timperley, Dave
D DAY REMEBERED a repost
by Strand, Brian
D-Day June 6, 1944
by lawless, John
INSIDE D DAY
by Arribas, John
by cornish, craig
by Loggia, Madeleine
by Malik, Abdul
D-Day in Malta:::co-write
by Callus, Paul
by Burovac, Milan Georges
View all new D Day Poems
The Best D Day Poems
D Day Poem
We met in Valletta city on a fine November day
Introductions...hugs and kisses; we got talking straight away.
All agreed to go sight-seeing – architecture , harbour view
Made a stop to buy an ice-cream where there is a constant queue .
We strolled on and at Cordina’s chose al fresco to sit down
Next to regal Queen Victoria, a stone lady with a crown.
Drinks were ordered and pastizzi, which were followed by some cakes
Freshly baked and appetizing, all adorned with chocolate flakes.
We were served by cherub Fabio busy running out and in
Second time the badge said Mario, then we found that he’s his twin.
Jan and hubby soaked the sunshine, the Calluses hugged the shade
Those around spoke multilingual, a musician plied his trade.
We stayed there and spoke for ages, watched the tourists walking by.
Valentina took our photos; she is young and sweet as pie.
Jan and Bob will be returning in two years on Malta’s shore
Although Maurice has predicted it will be a year before!
They will then be celebrating married bliss with silver ware
All on Soup will be invited; this occasion is to share.
That’s a promise made for keeping – friends will meet for sure once more
We shall have some cake and snickers; sweet surprises lie in store!
Fun poem ~ co-written by Paul-Jan-Valentina on 2/11/2014
Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2014
D Day Poem
Awakening morning darkness falls heavy clouds
walking outside stretching in deep thought
Firstly alone dreaming in freedom love
Looking into the mountains a prayer
Faraway winds howling cry out
snow capped peaks cold reminder
a silver chain running down the face
The truth always shines its light in the end
Heavy rains wet upon the brow
why has life been so cruel to me
I never chose this path holding no demons
condemned in lies with pain and suffering
All one showed was the face of good
even helping people in the streets
who almost destroyed my home
I had forgiven everyone as God is my witness
D-day looms heavy
the Devil spits his lies
yet sitting on his fork one will find truth
How could another human be so vile
To condemn someone
on a story that has just been made up
never have I stolen from anyone in my life
in fact the opposite money root of evil I see
Living humble and meek
has taught me wisdom of my ways
nature talks to me in winds whispering
Some walk this earth to be persecuted in the wrong
Proof that justice sometimes fails the innocence
we all are sinners looking down
at the cold face chiseled in truth
but to bear falsely on someone
Somethings I will never understand
You saved me Almighty Lord
When tortured pleaded in your Heavenly name
Saved my family from Hell
A miracle of life you gave back to me
I began writing expelling my demons
Now judgement day is falling upon me
Oh Heavenly Father save me in my innocence
And the tears keep falling
for the love of truth
what is wrong with this world
sometimes they are bind to the facts
Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2014
D Day Poem
“Die Another Day”
“Your mission, should you so deem it,
Is to infiltrate ALL Fluff Clusters in K.A.O.S. Headquarters
And bloody well steam it!”
“The Place is a hazardous mess of a trap
Over run with Double Agents, ulterior motives
Amorous Nuns-on-the-Run drooling ardent dreams
of swimming naked
in buckets of Blood Red Roses
69’ers come 96’ers with rapturous missives
Requiring decoding –
And their artillery compares to none other in this world -
Containing the most dangerous pensive locked-up emotions!
Written superfluously with more than likely Nootropics,
Toadstools (sic) Toad stools and
viperous inebriated poisonous frog posing lotions.
The place itself dear girl, is infested with Love Potions and
Lust boats rocking furiously on Saga-full
swelling erotic and Sensual oceans.
The place needs fumigating, too many damn birds!
They breed lice! Not to mention the droppings
Full of ‘sweet nectar’ brings in all the
Rats and the mice!
You are required to go in there dear Agent Petrova
And blow it apart with your Vixenish explosives and coat it
In mind numbing black and white Zebra striped run away train words
in subterranean doses.”
M barked in clipped soft tone staccato and contradictory whisper
Eyes like a Hawk watching the shadows while tickling her cactussing
hormonal whiskers -
A viperish Tongue that could lash and deliver one such hell burning blisters
To recalcitrant Frenchmen Stinking Frogs and
“This should be fun!” S.A.P. processed the new Dossier nonchalantly,
Clicking her sharp stillettos down endless corridor mazes with glee.
Dress-ups, disguises, nom de plumes - this thought She, was
Elegant, eloquent, Walk-the-Talk, machine gun ‘em down
Special Agent Petrova
Very Special S.A.P.
Is in town!
Not loose, never for free
Spray the room with her intoxicating perfume and
her Che Guevara
Pursuing (sic) perusing
the mission with loaded quill in her hand
She'd stroke and smoke out the big guns
Morphing her guises, transfiguring
Speaking in tongues
Pinning their tales all over her
All agents on the run, what a Fluff Cluster Spree...
Captivating Foreign and Homeland
Corral only the best
Capture them all
Arrest and divest
Subterfuge forays were her forte
This she thought was apt
Analysing the Attache
She had it down pat.
To hell with all Pernod Swilling French Men
Run amok and astray…
To hell with the Toads in their Dark Green sordid sortie
She was on with the mission
DIE ANOTHER D. DAY
"There are some agents who don't end their sentences with a proposition"/Jan Morrow.
Copyright © Leanne Lovejoy-Burton | Year Posted 2018
D Day Poem
Sonia Esmee Florence Butt ( work in progress )
The year 2014 comes to a close
Another unsung hero passed on, from a time long ago
Poets free to express our thoughts
Due to the bravery of Sonia D'Artrois
The day was may 28, 1944
A parachute and Sonia fell from the sky
Cropte, France, behind enemy lines
Her code name Madeleine, terrifying times
Explosives, and weapons, she understood
Training the Maquis to fight, in Charnie the forest hood
A woman who earned the respect of all around
For she was the leader of the underground
Great distances on Bicycle she would ride
Courier and messenger delivering supplies
Right in front of the Nazi eye
They never discovered this lady, Blanche the spy!
D'artois she met in the war in France
Explosions of love, this great romance
After D-Day, more explosions too
Many a Nazi was felled in his shoes
This British heroine when victory was assured
Across the sea to Canada she went
Married her lover
Met in danger, in the resistance of France
Notes Sonia d'Artois passed away on Dec 21, 2014 at the age of 90, a British woman who at a very young age joined the SOE ( Special Operations Executive ) She was parachuted behind enemy lines in France nine days before D-Day to lead a group in the french resistance (The Maquis) There she met a Canadian an officer in the Canadian army Guy d'Artois. They fell in love and later settled back in Montreal Canada.
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014
D Day Poem
The November skies darken early
Citizens walk in
High school gym
Opened just for them
Voices echo in the large hall
Clerks check names and addresses
Pointing to names in musty ledgers
As lines get longer.
The ones I can spot
Are the old veterans
Who spent their youth at
D-Day, Battle of the Bulge, Guadalcanal
Courage to them
Who knew how to be brave
At so young an age
They walk slowly now
Wives often leading
You sense that for them
Time is running out
The hour glass near empty
They never bragged all that much
To them voting is a right.
You can spot the others
Waiting on line
Korea and Viet-Nam
They walk a little faster
Stand a little taller
But time will catch up
And the hour glass will reach its mark.
The voting is over
Discarded papers litter the floor
Lights turned off
As darkness slips into the empty hall.
Deal are made
And on this cold night
Honest taxpayers turn in bed
Knowing that the next workday
Always comes early.
Copyright © Edmund Siejka | Year Posted 2011
D Day Poem
I was in-processing my Army unit in Germany when the fortieth anniversary of D-Day happened; but, alas, I couldn't leave. I wanted so much to be there to meet the old surviving veterans, to shake their hands and hear their stories. I had read accounts of D-Day-- June 6th, 1944. I had already seen several times the film The Longest Day, based on the book by Cornelius Ryan.
Eventually my family followed me back to Germany, and we later took a vacation that included Normandy.
We visited Sainte-Mere-Eglise, and I pointed out the manekin of Private john Steele--the paratrooper that had gotten stuck on the church's steeple.
We visited the upper German fortifications of Point Du Hoc, where Army Rangers fought their way up impossible cliffs.
We paid our respects at the US war cemetery on Omaha Beach, and my sons and I walked where so many Americans had died to free Europe.
My wife was very somber and respectful at these sites; she is French, and grew up hearing stories of the German occupation.
I often still watch on June 6th either The Longest Day, or Saving Private Ryan, and try to imagine my forebears on those beaches.
Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2015
D Day Poem
look where I am
in the memory of a massacre
human against human
Copyright © Milan Georges Burovac | Year Posted 2014
D Day Poem
America is an idea
that "all men are created equal,"
before we cared to define "human", "created", or "equal."
America is freedom for our grandchildren
in a manner we will never understand.
It is the founding fathers who died for liberty.
It is the darker brothers who fought for justice from kitchens and pulpits.
It is the poor, the huddled masses,
And their children who have forgotten this.
It is green cards that become blue passports.
It is unlearning the language of our grandparents.
It is knowing how to pronounce Arkansas and Illinois
It is enjoying barbecues on somber national holidays.
It is unbridled enthusiasm.
It is unbridled arrogance.
It is rugged individualism;
It is passionate paternalism.
It is hellfire that scorches deserts.
It is a gust that has fanned flames.
It is a cool rain that puts out fires.
From sea to shining sea--
It is Manifest Destiny
from Louis and Clark to Wounded Knee.
It is Topaz, and McCarthy,
and hundreds of things we would rather forget.
It is D-day, and Neil Armstrong,
and thousands of things we forget to celebrate.
America is a dream that rings from the red hills of Georgia
to the curvaceous slopes of California
to New York Island.
It is patriotism;
it is progress.
It is the blind worship of our past.
It is red. It is blue.
It is red, white, and blue.
It is what half of us say it isn't.
I say it evolves constantly;
others say it was created in His image.
It is everything I hold dear;
it is everything that infuriates me.
It is the warmth that makes my eyes tear
when I hear the Star Spangled Banner
at football games,
on July 4th,
or on September 11th.
It is hope.
It is the promise of a better tomorrow.
It is what ever I am.
I, too, am America.
Copyright © Anamika N | Year Posted 2013
D Day Poem
Hi guys, please go through my poem wrote by Mrs.Madhavi.Suyog.Pagare about imperial and blushing rose..
Glowing in the early dawn,
Hey my beautiful rose..
Your aromatic fragrance has touched my soul..
Each and every united petals of yours vibrates me, making me alive..
O'wild rose, You stroked my heart!!
Falling on my face, You are the one who don't make deceitful pretences..
You are the one who endowed me a smile as a surprise..
Your charismatic posture embedded in a deep space of my heart..
O'delirious rose, You flicked my soul!!
Wrapped by disliking thorns and spines..
Loves the spirit you cheerfully withstand..
My eyes are desperately thirsty to have a quick glance of your tendered feature..
O'chaotic rose, You twitched my nerves!!
Your dusky red colour..
enamoured my entire body..
Enigmatic cheers on my lips..
I wanna kiss you forever forever..
Holding you in my hands, bending on my knees..
O'ferine rose u reached the highest peak of my heart!!
Amongst the bushes and raw grass,
My heart got connected with you..
Chromatically waving in an air..activating my sense
Inspiring me making my d-day delighted..
O'glimmering rose,trustworthily you ignited passion inside me!!
Glimpse of yours make me kinetized,my blushing pearl..
Freakly taking a deep breathe,my blossoming chics..
Flaming love in my heart i can offer you..
O'amorous rose, for that You have to be mine..be mine My Queenliest love.. !!
Copyright © Madhavi Sarjare pagare | Year Posted 2013
D Day Poem
June 1, 2015
To all of you that have ever worn
The Uniform of safety and security,
The Uniform of pride and liberty
THE UNIFORM OF FREEDOM
THE UNIFORM OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
Thank you to all, in every branch, in every time From:
1776 - 2015
The American Revolution
The Civil War (North or South)
World War I
World War II
The Falkland Islands
The Persian Gulf
War Zones and Battlefields, such as:
Lexington/Concord, Gettysburg, Pearl Harbor, Midway Island, Normandy, D-Day, Berlin, Tripoli, Iwo Jima, Okinawa, The 38th Parallel, The Bay of Tonkin, Me Lei, Hanoi, The Hanoi Hilton, Saigon, The Ho Chi Minh Trail, Baghdad, Kabul, Ground Zero Manhattan, Pentagon 9/11, a field near Shanksville PA.
and many many more,
(not all locations are listed with no dis-respect)
You are all Heroes and Role Models,
not for a Nation, for A Peaceful Planet
not for Americans, for all Humanity,
not only today this Memorial Day,
for all days and all days to come.
You are appreciated! because freedom has high costs
and you pay the price for all of us.
Godspeed, safety and peace where ever you are.
Warner C. Baxter Jr.
Scottsdale, AZ. U.S.A.
GOD BLESS AMERICA
Copyright © Warner Baxter | Year Posted 2015
D Day Poem
Dog debates Fox.
D : Cold or warm,wooo;
Snoring to the mock of change-
In my cot I sleep.
F : Hot or chill,wooo;
Strolling the green at my will-
No chain in my neck.
D : Round the clock,wooo;
Bone certain,water is sure-
All days as christmas.
F : All hours I am high;
Freshest is the flesh I eat-
In my strength I live.
D : Day and night is health;
Dr. Vet watches with care-
Which ailment feared I?
F : Now and then I bounce;
Barks, leaves, seeds’ potency-
No human error.
User’s name : Kayod5
Contest : What does the Fox say?
Inspiration : Aoo... oo!
Sponsor : Skat A
Copyright © KAYOD5 Kayode | Year Posted 2014
D Day Poem
I met a veteran from World War II
who, eighty-three, reached out to shake my hand;
at Normandy, who'd seen his brethren killed,
now walks the streets of Berlin, Maryland.
He models life, simple yet abundant,
by stocking up a van with meat and cheese
and, seeking out the tired, poor, and hungry,
and greeting them with a "thank you", and "please".
He mentioned D-Day once, as I recall -
said he couldn't number those he had slain,
yet, the other soldiers jumping with him
all dead the moment they leapt from the plane.
To think, this man, who held the mortal coil
of all the nations longing to be free,
who vowed to suffer death, should it have him,
would stoop to honor men, the likes of me.
I asked myself "do I take for granted
my freedom, bled and died for, in this land",
the day a veteran from World War II,
at eighty-three, reached out to shake my hand.
Copyright © Chad Wood | Year Posted 2010
D Day Poem
A place where peace should reign, yet terror grows.
A paradise where blood and children lie.
A beach where young boys played and now men die,
with liquid crimson waves that evil sows.
The cliffs now bow and weep and look below,
where from their shoulders cast a deadly tide.
A peaceful nighttime vista now belied
by daylight's bloody battle of the foes.
As dreams replace the din that's all around
and life drips slowly there into the sand,
it's faith and God and love that now surrounds
these ever grateful souls that have been found.
Brave comrades in this fate so proudly stand
to be delivered now where they are bound.
Copyright © craig cornish | Year Posted 2017
D Day Poem
Old beggar on the bridge
Hand outstretched for coins
Sees himself on duty
Near the Orne River bridge
On D – day.
Straightening up as coins are given,
Sees himself snapping to attention
As the medal was pinned.
Shuffling towards the all-night café,
Sees himself heeling and toeing
Through the NAAFI hall.
Age is in the mind.
He sees himself bigger in his prime,
And the vision is enough
To carry him across the bridge.
D day....June 6 1944 invasion of Normandy
Orne River Bridge...strategic target needing to be taken even before the invasion
NAAFI = Navy Army and Air Force Institute = organisation in UK looking after food supplies for soldiers
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2013
D Day Poem
The days were getting long, and the Fourth of July was coming up, soon.
With the City Park clean, a better raise might come, so very long over due.
The Sheriff of Crazyland was cleaning pigeon poo, too often, lately. True!
He was getting Crazier, by the minute, for his vacation hadn’t yet come thru.
If those darn pigeons left the Park, that would be heaven, he definitely knew.
The game a-foot, he decided, to remove them, did I say it was a full moon!
So when he hosed those parks’ statues clean, he rousted the pigeons out, too.
Little did he know, war was declared, ‘The Battle of Pigeon-Way’ now ensued.
The pigeons were furious, our little citizens, had the right, like all else, to remain!
Shakespeare’s statue became their flagship, with the pathways their flying lanes.
The Pigeon Armada was stealthily hidden, amongst the trees, quietly, out of view.
The Sheriff didn’t know, the depth and width of the battle, he had gotten into!
D-Day came bright and early, as they buried him deep, in poo, giving him a clue.
Back and forth they battled on, in earnest, determined, tactics, umbrella and poo.
Sure, he had that hose, but those dirty pigeons had their own ammunition, too!
Strafing runs were their thing, and their ammunition, well, You know! EWWW!
The Sheriff didn’t have a clean shirt left, even patriotic ones, met their swan song.
Kamikaze strafes and runs, were the name of the game, still the Sheriff, carried on.
No one was hurt, though the Sheriff was soaked all the way, to his under-wear.
No one went near the Sheriff, tho YouTube videos were in demand everywhere!
Brooms and hoses were useless against the barrage, with a limited range…to stun.
Finally the Mayor stepped in, he knew the battle of Pigeon-Way was finally won!
Negotiating the terms of surrender, he approved a rotating fountain for the statues.
Yep folks, the pigeons were now happy, and the statues would be clean… as new!
Plus an oversize, birdbath, was made their very own… It was such a great win!
Negotiations went on, as Dragon sat on the Sheriff, still mad and now embarrassed.
The Sheriff simply glared his menace until he was taken away, in the back of the…
City’s Mental Health paddy wagon, Yep! He finally got, his yearly paid vacation.
And the Admiral Pigeon’s final demand instead of a lawsuit was accepted. As…
He did a victory lap and final release on the Sheriff as answer, to the glare. Whereas...
You might say he had just dotted his eyes, and crossed his T, as his signature, no less.
There was no mistaking that event as the paparazzi caught it for the front page. Oh Yes!
It was a Great News Day for Freedom and the Battle of Pigeon-Way! What a success!
The moral to this story is: Before treading on citizens freedoms and what they believe...
Try to first solve conflicts, by more peaceful means. OH! And always give your people vacations in timely fashion... as they need.
Written by Carol Eastman 7-3-2016
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2016
D Day Poem
the blood shed
no humanity done
all is lost
under the strick and pain
of all the bombs
the Cold War
nothing is new
death for nothing
revolution you say
killing hundred of lives
all for ones pay
for one to step down
or die in vein
why should we kill hundreds
for just ones gain
just blood in the book
too much for me
how about you?
more lives lost there then any time in history
D Day was the grave
for many people who fought away
we didint learn
we continue this mistake
we kill for our country
and then we go pray
thinking God will bless me
with bullets and steel
while God told me to love all
not put shells in you
not all injuries are deep
some are mental week
PTSD and many things
my presentation is explaining
how the war isn't for those who died
and how it affect the kids and other wise
families are devastated
kids with no dads
imagine a life
were you go home
only find the mom
and sometimes go to your dads tomb stone
all for the sack of the country
who is well of living on its supplies and many thing
or imagine going home
here your mom cry
until you read the letter
that your dad died
or gone missing under the wind
were your supposed to know the troops
but some just vanish again
thousand were never found
in the past few years
ofcorse they are dead
but some keep praying still
look at the war and look at the fight
not every is killed on sight
some come back home
trying to live there lifes
but then the drugs kick in
and many other lies
the lies they said out there
" dont worry you will be fine"
the man who said that died a few seconds later
sniper shot him in the eye
you think war is a joke
or something to laugh about
if you come home
your dads on morphine
trying to hide from the noise
you think it is nothing
but to him it reminds him of his past
the battles he faces
the friends he made
and the one vanished with out a trace
or the once who died in his face
the once he had to carry away
the funeral he had to pray
and the people who tried helping him escape
the war is more then a game
it more of a death sentences
once you go
it is hard to get back
more then you think
with PTSD and bipolar disease
and many other injuries
once you go to war
you wont be the same
you will see things
that are inhuman
bodies all over
blood is spilled
and the many people missing
the ones even you knew
you dont understand me
let me explain
the people who are fighting out there
wont come back the same
they will be changed
mental and physically
they will see true people
who will go insane
the people at war see many things
some not even for my age
code orange, Stalingrad , D Day
Cold War , war in the north and other out of my reach
what they did was horrible
what both sides did to their men
the russians killed their own troops
if they are trying to run back
germans slaughter the jews
the americans just nuked
japanies and their kamikazes
now lets come today
to now a day war
the technology is so unreal
it isnt worth righting for
what they did now a days was worse then before
code orange is one good example
there are many more
the death of many for the few
it isn't only the soldiers it is the kids to
the families being hit
the parents that die
and the kids have to run for their lives
PTSD is one symptom that never dies
it stays in the hearts and in the mind
it hurt the people
when the war isnt even alive
it kills them slowly
mentality is going
PTSD has a history
let me explain it to thee
it is when your traumatized
cause by war, airplane crash rape and bombing in the state
they fear the sounds of loud
they sometimes fear the sight of death
they fear the sound of pain
and they fear guns and other stuff
it started back in the day
Copyright © Dylan Manassian | Year Posted 2013
D Day Poem
I quickly joined the Navy on June the 4th, 1943,
As soon as I graduated at 17, life was definitely to be;
I received boot training in the state of Maryland,
At Bainbridge, became a navigator noble and grand.
I was sent to Amphibious Training wet, phew wee,
At Little Creek in Virginia, where I got my crew,
Of different ranks including machinists as gunners,
The craft was 56-foot, our rations made us stunners.
But I was separated from my crew, went to Plymouth,
In England, placed on a Liberty ship used to house,
Replacement cargo for artillery that got destroyed,
Which was so much longer than the crafts deployed.
In Fahnouth England, I memorised Normandy maps,
Prepared and used a Reflectoscope to turn on the taps;
We were scared of poison gas when we hit Omaha,
I was quarantined on June 1st of ’44, needed mama.
We saved many from the crafts using cargo nets sublime,
But they were difficult to climb in the rough seas, crime,
A craft almost mounted the ship ‘cos of a high wave,
And always we had to be steely and very, very brave.
The bombs from the Nazi’s were the size of footballs,
And we painstakingly recovered many bodies, stalls,
From the water which had just beaten them cruelly,
And that first D-Day morning we were losing brutally.
The Germans hedgehogs, or bombs for the landing crafts,
Fired on us from a pillbox, but in my case American staff,
Took my attacking pillbox out, and I was just so grateful,
‘Cos it was causing me havoc ‘cos I almost felt too awful.
Luckily that night two German planes simply just avoided us,
After a few days we did hydrographic 3D printing work, suss,
For which I was commended, I contributed to today’s 3D printing
Then I lead the invasion of southern France, which was amazing.
The Panama Canal saw me on a rocket ship headed for Japan,
But the A-Bomb ended the war, and we went state-side to tan,
My Honourable Discharge was in March of ’46, and I was quick,
To get back to my peacetime activities, but never forgot the sick.
Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2015
D Day Poem
Heartstrings- For Hearth and Home
Pardon me, did you just heave…
“Aye, that’s right, you can leave”
Good you give me the heave-ho…
“Don’t say, just leave this ship-
You’re ban from the trip”
But wait, I demand to know
Why heart throbs callous fate…
Or naught’ say in this state?
Then, I get’ be on the row.
Retrench, though break, I grieve
…Still air, elsewhere receive-
D-day most furious must bow.
Fly wings, see no then clip-
A tip, handsome; don’t trip.
Ready, steady and will wow.
Cos yours’ to concentrate,
Theirs to see and relate.
Patience in all makes you grow.
Balassi Stanza: Two
Rhyme Scheme: bbaccadda
Syllable count: 667667667
Copyright © Abdulhafeez Oyewole | Year Posted 2013
D Day Poem
"So, You Want to Be a Writer?" is a children's song, sung to the tune of "Oh, My
So, you want to be a writer
But you're not sure where to start?
Grab a pencil and some paper
And write down what's in your heart!
Bonus activity: Explain to children what that "inner voice" is...that voice that says
things like "Mom's gonna' be so mad when she sees this report card!" or "I'll be so
disappointed if I don't win the spelling bee." The inner voice is pure and
unedited...all you need to do is capture it and write it down. Give children a pencil
and some paper and have them go someplace quiet (their room, the backyard, the
library). Instruct them to listen to that inner voice and simply write down what it
says. When they are finished, tell children they've made a journal entry and that
journal entries can be highly prized. Many authors publish their journal entries.
Journal entries should be saved, as they can later be turned into poems or stories,
like "D-Day: The Day I Brought Home My Fourth Grade Report Card".
Copyright © Cherie Durbin | Year Posted 2011
D Day Poem
I like the word "beastie," it sounds cute, it sounds Scottish. I'm thinking like 'Scotty' on 'Star Trek' would say, the immortal James Doohan, who I would have figured for a Scotsman, but a Canadian was he, and a good life lived.
On at least one episode of Star Trek he evinced a liking for 'Saurian brandy,' and 'tis certain sure that a stout beverage it would be. While back in the real world, ol' Jimmy boy stormed Juno Beach, Normandy, on D-day, then that very following night a scared Canadian machine-gunner let loose as our intrepid James made his rounds, hitting him six times with "friendly fire" (now how tough would that have been, to swallow as a metaphor at the time?). Improbable after that that life remained, middle finger, right hand, later had to be amputated, plus four shots to a leg, well now that would be thought to be well-nigh fatal, but no, and one in the chest besides, where a silver cigarette case preserved our man's life.
Copyright © Doug Vinson | Year Posted 2016
D Day Poem
A large isle in Western Europe, In times of war the Germans pushed through it. Together as one the Soldiers unite to protect their land in a violent fight,
Over they came with Tanks and Guns, Cities fled and civilians they run. In the heat of the battle our kin remained strong, through rounds of gunfire and fatal bombs.
On a gracious day on the shores of France, taking the fight to them in a warrior's Dance. Known as D-day the Victory mission, The Germans were broken as the world listened.
Copyright © Steven Fraser | Year Posted 2015
D Day Poem
"D"~DAY (TH' DAY COMETH...)
JUST AS PEACE,SEEMED TO EASE US OF MISERY...
DOUBT N' CONTEMPT ARISES,YET 'GAIN TO GREETETH OUR CONTENTMENT
TH' WORLD'S REQUIRING OF INTRICACY,RESOUNDS DINS OF DISDAIN
PLUCKING AT OUR SANITY'S STRINGS,THIS IGNORANCE REWARDS US MOROSE
TO TH' POINT OF BREAK,OUR TOLERANCE IS STRETCHED TAUGHT
REASONING NOW DOUSED OF DEBAUCHERY,OUR EMPATHY WAXES FUTILE
WHEN 'TIS FULFILLED,WRATH WILL RESTORETH SIGHT OF TH' OBLIVIOUS
FOR TH' TRUTH OF THEIR PRURIENCE,SHALL PROVE THEMSELVES PRIMITIVE
TH' PERVERSION OF KNOWLEDGE,ONCE MORE AFFIRMS DESECRATION
BY ADORNING OF GRACE WE WERE REDEEMED...NOW LOOMS DEATH OF DIGNITY
LUXURY SPREADS IT'S ROOTAGE,SO OF IT'S VINES WE ARE ENTANGLED
EXPEL TO HELL THEIR WANTONESS,N' THEIR EGOSTIC DESIRES OF GAIN
ABORTED FROM OUR WOMBS OF PIETY,THEY NOURISHED NO REMORSE
ROES OF REPRISAL THEY HATH CONCEIVED,OF PROFITOUS FORNICATIONS
THEIR SURETY IN AFFLUENCE,SHALL CERTAIN THEIR CONCLUSION
WHEN DULY ACHIEVED COMETH...
...THEIR DAY OF DESTINATION!
Copyright © Randall Martin | Year Posted 2011
D Day Poem
Are you happy in your ignorance?
A slave to stereotype.
You claim you're not a Romeo,
but I don't believe the hype.
No matter how my words fall out ,
in English or in 'blah blah'
I can't get you to understand,
frustration is a cancer
I wish I could just stop the clock,
grab your head in my hands
and beg and plead for you to speak
and tell me where I stand.
Alone? or just a step behind you,
a thousand miles away?
Can I be with you when I wake up
every b-----d day?
My eyes will come to focus
on untangible junctures
and when I try to say my piece,
my mouth can't form the words.
Because you know and now I know
that I crush all that I hold.
You're a precious tiny butterfly
who's wings are shroud in gold.
I'll leave this be, but please, be free
and i'll refrain from crumbling,
restrain myself from thinking
that this nothing could be something
15th September 2011
Copyright © Jodie Williams | Year Posted 2011
D Day Poem
If only I could bring back
those willful days
When the sun shined
bright all my ways,
When the nights were
a fair field to sow many a dream
And the days dawned
to reap them at whim,
My life spread its wings
for miles unseen
And flowers bloomed
all the way umpteen.
But now I dread the break of day,
Aimless upon the bed I just lay,
I mull over many a bygone day
And stress over that fateful day
When a new sun with
all its glory to share
comes looking for me
and I won't be there!
"Days" contest by Thomas Martin
Copyright © Abdul Malik | Year Posted 2015
D Day Poem
An eerie calm settled o'er Normandy Beach that solemn summer's night.
The debris of battle was strewn 'neath the full moon's silvery light.
The tide cleansed the beach of the blood of men who were in the fore;
Brave men who'd faced the hell of war on that ravaged Norman shore!
Those who gave their all, lay awaiting removal from that embattled strand.
With lifeless eyes and boots pointed t'ward the stars, they slept upon the sand.
Fathers, brothers, sons and husbands slain during the conflict's ebb and flow,
By the inexorable Scythe of Death in the battles of Pointe du Hoc and St. Lo!
What might these heroes have become if fate had not dealt them so?
A teacher, farmer, doctor, a minister? Alas, we shall never know!
They left farm, shop, school and hearth to cross the billowing sea,
And forfeited life on the Altar of Honor that others might live free!
The moonlight revealed treasured items strewn about on the ravaged beach.
Final letters to loved ones lay fluttering in the breeze, now beyond their reach.
There were wallets with photos of wives and children who are left to grieve.
Only the memory of his close embrace will their empty hearts now ever cleave!
Toothbrushes, razors, bloody shoes and socks were gathered by grieving mates,
As they tenderly cared for fallen brothers who've gained the Pearly Gates.
The moon glowed brightly that night o'er Normandy Beach as it paused on high,
To caress the cheeks of brave men as it passed on its eternal bourne in the sky!
D-Day 6 June 1944, Normandy Beach, World War II
Entry for Jamie Pan's "War and Heroism" Contest
Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2013