Best Life And Limb Poems
In the courts of sport and entertainment
They have forgotten the scales of justice
Lacking honor for those who gave life and limb
Sacrificing blood, and buried with god giving grace
The anthem is our history
of all triumphs, good, and even flaws
Look into the eyes of a veteran
to see inside a suffering vault
They, who fought, so that you may play
They who died, so that the rich live this day
Even the poor still have their freedoms
For veterans themselves, knew their reasons
No man, no nation can stand up to perfection
Its about respect of those, who gave...
Despite all imperfections
Without, history repeats, sending more to the cross and knave
When you hear "God Bless America"
Think of those flag covered graves
Think of the children
No fathers, because it is you they saved
Our nation is human
Filled with imperfections
Protest for change, for better days
While holding respect for those, who before you
With their blood, led the way
AFTERMATH
War is final but incomplete,
bodies littered like spent ammunition
along the ravaged bloody street.
But who hears the voices of condemnation
on profit-only Wall Street?
In the dirt they make their plans
to strike again at life and limb
but ghostly cries fall on deaf ears.
Who, alive, could be so bold
to find in such a loss a gain?
Better drunk with glory and feel the pain
than live a sober life in vain.
With rigid form and empty hands
the scripted epitaph of modern man
lies for all to see in the deeds
of young men, yet most turn away
ashamed of the savage reality.
To a different god they pray
but everyone just wants to live free.
To those brave warriors downed
no small measure of honour found.
War is final but incomplete,
the aftermath lives on in the faces,
the fears and in the broken street;
a boil in the hot sun of scrutiny
and the children dance in bare feet.
Conflict is old and certainly cold,
survivors return with stories untold.
The epic struggle continues between
man’s heart and his powerful greed
leaving a wasteland out of Eden.
With inner struggles the scars are hidden.
War is conflict with no remedy,
turns trusted friends into bitter enemies.
The dead have one wish, to be alive,
to be with loved ones who survive.
The aftermath, the chaos, it never ends,
on and on the sorrow and grief,
these broken lives will never mend.
Only death or peace will bring relief.
Dirty fossil fuel
Extracted from deep earth crust
By men who risked life and limb
Today cursed by many
Gave us this civilization
16 August 2019
Second Edition of Wayra
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier - Canada
We all know you now
You have fallen at our feet
You have guarded them all with life and limb
Noble and brave
Only to fall at a cowards last call
You have stirred the souls of the unknown heroes
Their appall shall seek the just dues of our defamers and saboteurs
Young lads who now welcome you in the hereafter
Shall haunt our enemies from near or afar
The drum rolls sound, as the rifles salute
The Unknown Soldier
You are unknown no more
Notes: In memory of Nathan Cirillo and Patrice Vincent both killed in cold blood on the week of Oct 26, 2014 by cowards in the name of Islam. Nathin Cirillo was standing guard at the tomb of the Unknown Soldier.
Also in memory to the 1000’s of unknown soldiers, young men, who fought so that we may be free.
a single drop
escapes and shapes
the one reforms into the many
forces merge and maintain the center
as an ocean to a clear running stream
effortless delicate movements
the beautiful semblance of creation
only free when infinity extends an open hand
we gracefully bend submitting to the wind
ever escalating the highest life and limb
gales roll in and away
drifting wide and floating astray
iridescence is indescribable yet defines
the sky as she decides a color
her choice always a brilliant contrasting horizon
grandiloquent patterns push to lavish design
extending to no less than the highest point
contours of jewels and soft silky edges
expand in the flourishing demand
moving on in an elaborate showdown
illumination has changed direction
mist is abundantly clear
looting and diverting a moon’s glow
enhancing the sky’s light with spectrum’s of sight
diamonds in the sky
these silhouettes fall into a slow embrace
obscurity celebrates movement
with this final chance in a dance
abstract is an overachiever here
endlessly molding a new shape
a familiar sight replaces the mirage
swarming the moonlight to be still
to see the secret inside a shimmer
the very heart of all things
where a reminiscent choral sound
rhapsodies pure aesthetic
calls you to a sublime slumber
magnificent claims this place of illusion
a majestic showing of dreams and nightmares
more is all we need
patiently we await the kiss from bliss
her touch behind the eyes
opens up the skies
for an Ethereality
Terry D’Arcy-Ryan
Where will tomorrow take us
Only God alone can tell
A brighter future a cloudless day
Or an earthly living Hell
How much of its our doing
How much is down to me
Is the fate laid out before us
A future meant to be
I know I've tempted fate before
At least a time or two
Risked life and limb and maybe more
I'd risk it all anew
Cos life for me's a wonderland
A journey to behold
A beautiful utopia
For the young and for the old
Til man exacts his dominance
Over everything he can
And mortgages each single soul
Of every living man
A banking led dystopia
Indebtedness their aim
We're caught here in the crossfire
In a costly Rotschild game
The year is sixteen ninety four
And a deal is on the cards
The notes are shilling loudly
From the moneylenders bards
Twelve hundred thousand reasons
Mortgage woman, man and child
The deal's been done, the trap's been sprung
The laughing Joker's wild
The Devil dealt a crooked hand
The rules weren't Heaven sent
The loans they pays a kingly ransome
The bets at eight percent
Inflationary stirms prevail
Nations drowningbin the flood
The odds now stacked in favour
Of a deal they signed in blood
Now money's just a token
The game is truly up
Their sleight of hand's been deftly played
They fill their debtors cup
Human lives collateral
As the game stacks in their favour
No money's needed anymore
The game is theirs to savour
Where will tomorrow take us
Only God alone can tell
The Devil deals in dying folks
His deals a living Hell
The game's a crooked one we know
It's plain for all to see
And the fate laid out before us
Is down to you and me
Evil That Always Takes Its Toll
Remember where hot lightning bolts flash down,
Its sun-fire heat burning in a tragic strike!
There perished mother and her little tyke;
Tragedy there, where the angels cry and frown,
And sing their saddest songs upon the waves:
Doom and gloom a sad fruit to be born
Taken long before Gabriel blows his horn.
Judged by Fate no power in Universe ever saves,
Yet no man lives that can ever be so sure,
That misery will forget to take its toll
Upon the peace that stirs the blessed soul!
There was peace: yet no peace can insure,
Paradise will be waiting for its fair guests,
The great promise, its most fantastic lure!
Security of life and limb of angels so pure:
Or protection from Evil that so eternally infests.
Robert J. Lindley, August , 1973
Note: A poem from my private journal, from back when I wrote a bit more in the old style.
Sometimes I dearly miss writing like this..... and that muse that raced so far away!
p.s. My first wife(future ex) thought this my best poem ever.
At that time I had several hundred written.
There are eminent personages among the enlisted grades,
Who deserve the utmost in respect and well-earned accolades.
These are the dedicated Sergeants of whom I speak,
Who guide the strong and encourage the weak!
Steadfast leaders whom commanders rely upon,
When they need to get the tough jobs done.
Never-bending sturdy oaks in the face of adversity,
Possessing traits held by few - loyalty and integrity!
Sergeants descend from a long and distinguished tradition,
Following those who faithfully served with great distinction.
Proudly wearing chevrons bestowed upon a privileged few,
And setting high standards for generations that will ensue!
From time immemorial through the present generation,
Brave men and women were led by Sergeants with dedication.
Dreadful loss of life and limb was, alas, sustained,
To ensure that our precious liberties were maintained!
I'm a proud member of this elite fraternity and brotherhood,
Ever marching arm in arm for the nation's common good.
Molding young patriots to defend our glorious heritage.
All serving this great nation with indomitable courage!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Slowly and silently, keeping time with the raindrops
I open my petals to whisper a soft, sweet melody
Of insight into the Creator’s inspiration for my purity
My life’s blood is streaked with clarity and compassion
Coloring me in hues of crimson, amber and lemon yellow
Daily, I open each trembling flower to a delicate sunlight
Enlightening the dawn with a beautiful array of enchantment
Breathing whimsical order in the fashion of petals that grace
Each spectator with feelings of appreciation for my powerful
Presence, my fragility shadowed with dreams and passions
Graciously, I lift up my head toward the morning rainstorm
Feeling drenching showers pour across my spirit’s essence
Creating a melancholy that breeds illuminations of sorrow
Which soon turns into a sweet harbinger of tomorrow’s glory
Delicious sentiments of what will soon be the praise of God
Applauding Him with my fingers of illusive discernments
Honoring Him with my faint hints of vitality in emotion
Acclaiming Him as the world’s most glorious designer
Admiring Him for all that He’s given to His creation
Praising Him with every part of my peaceful spirit, eternally.
I am the flower that rises above my loss of life and limb
To the joy of knowing that through existing I am filled with
Compassion and praise that fills up this dismal land called earth
With true expressions of kindness and charity that is known
To be the way to God’s heart, where I hope to always go!
The Flower, The Thorn Or Both Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
July 6, 2020
An armed deputy who is waiting outside
while a madman slays our joy and pride,
tell me again how it is good sense
to trust life and limb to the government?
Police are good people, without a doubt,
but they’re minutes away when seconds count,
and few enough know this hard truth:
Legally, they do not have to protect you.
And I think we’ll rarely ever find
a cop around when we’re struck by crime,
criminals are evil, but they are not fools,
they do not strike when cops are near you.
Be they a madman or a common thief,
what will happen when they come calling?
What good is help that comes too late,
when you’ve been butchered, murdered, raped?
So if they’re not crazy, or criminal scum,
I believe that an adult should own a gun.
This duty goes beyond mere self-defense,
though that’s its most common element,
as citizens and free souls it is our cause
to act as a check on those who make laws.
Not a pleasant thought, and a weaker mind
might proclaim,”But we’re beyond those times.”
But such thinking is a great fallacy,
power still attracts those who lust greedily
for your money, your family, you very thoughts,
they want control over the whole lot,
playing along with laws when they have to
while designing schemes, already ready to move
when a weakness in our will is found...
and come that day, when they knock us down
the Second Amendment takes up the fight,
the only means left to defend our rights.
Though we hate the thought of such a fate,
the threat of tyranny never will abate,
so if you’re not crazy, or criminal scum,
as an adult you should own a gun...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Why is a true friend so hard to find?
Come, take a step inside my mind.
I will tell you what it is they will do,
If really they are a friend so true.
For you, a true friend will always be there,
Through thick and thin, they will not care.
When it is you experience fear,
Your true friend will always near.
When life seems it is just to much,
To your aide a true friend will rush.
When your way out seems hidden, not always clear,
Your true friend will be there, your problems to hear.
For you, time is what a true friend will spend,
Seeking for your wounds to heal and mend.
They will gladly give for you their life and limb,
They will help you when you must sink or swim.
Have you ever had someone be untrue?
Your true friend surely knew what to do!
This person feels for you love and respect,
Your life it is they have sworn to protect.
Your true friend will always guard your back,
When all of your foes decide to attack.
Have you ever been filled with uncertainty and doubt?
Your true friends knows what your problems are about.
When it is you are feeling sorrow, misery and pain,
Their eyes will shed tears as the sky drops rain.
Such a friend is always honest and true,
Has someone ever dealt this way with you?
Why do such friends seem to be so few?
Thankfully I have one standing right in view.
You have really been there all of the time,
Because of you my life is honestly sublime.
What is it I can do to repay all the problems and fears you overcame?
The answer to this my friend, is I’ll always do for you, exactly the same!
Yes here we are the truest of friends we could be,
And I know we always will be, yes for all eternity.
Have you ever felt like a ship,
In bottle?
Chasing waves as they roll back,
And forth?
A glass encased fortress that,
Allows no escape.
Within these reflecting walls my,
Vessel sails on ward.
Echoing chants that men have,
Song sense time Began.
Oh hear the music dance from,
Stem to stern.
From every corner, rattling,
The haul.
Set those sails, lock down,
That mast!
A Gail is ah coming hear gulls,
Sing beware.
But in this our glass prison,
Calm shores.
Lend little relief yet much,
Regret.
Oh god have mercy on sailors,
Who live upon,
The mischievous sea.
For know mistress can beat,
Her to save the,
Likes of me.
So here I remain inside my,
Ship in a bottle.
Lights chambers imprisoned,
Victim casting rainbows.
Shadows against crystal shards,
Split silhouettes Illusions.
Forever roaming currants endless,
Tides.
Putting life and limb at fates whim,
Chasing foam and Spray,
The rays of the rising sun.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Wildfire
Written: By Tom Wright
3/20/2006
The wildfire’s aftermath has revealed,
Ditches littered with assorted trash.
Wildlife panicked, ran and squealed,
Sections lay barren, as blackened ash.
Houses and barns have met their fate,
And hay, by the ton, is left to smolder.
Volunteer firemen, fighting early to late,
Standing always, shoulder to shoulder.
On men and equipment fire takes its toll,
A burn ban exists throughout the state.
Who starts these fires, what is their goal?
Are they accidental, or just plain hate?
Many have lost all their worldly goods,
And wait while FEMA pinches its dime.
A life’s accumulation, a patch of woods,
Start life over, for some, there isn’t time.
Almost daily we hear the dread word, fire,
Whipped to frenzy by south winds gusting.
Sirens blaring, volunteers must not tire,
For life and limb to them we’re trusting.
Dedicated to the volunteer firemen
Who have faced a monumental task this past year.
Almost daily, wildfires have occurred
Many due to arson.
Pained am I with the waste of life,
Of dreams that lie like myriad shards,
Of hopes and love left far behind,
Taking flight on withered wings of
Unrequited expectations.
Sad am I that young roiling blood
Is stilled, silenced, with abandonment.
Where is the burning zeal and zest,
Brash bravado and youthfulness,
Life that thrives on - being alive?
We drink toasts to greatness, success, gain,
Do we empathize with those who fail?
Is what is taught is only that
Our goal by day, and that by night,
Is we've just got to beat the best?
Angered am I to read of death
Of youth who think life's race they have lost,
Laying great store by trivial
Pursuits whose conquest placed above
Life, and limb, and the self itself?
Oh, callow youth, oh innocent you!
A quagmire of treachery and deceit
Life is woefully all about.
You win some points, but lose some more-
With honour take it in your stride.
Carry on regardless with a smile,
Drink a toast to what'er be your lot.
Through wind and storm or sunny days
The days relentlessly zoom by
Always heralding happy cheer!
Blame not the foolhardiness of youth
For life cut short due to shattered dreams.
Blame lies squarely on the heads of
Patriarchs of a synthetic
Society of transferred hopes.
Somewhere tonight a soldier stands
The fate of freedom in his hands
He mans his post, he stands his ground
In trouble spots the world around
He could be 18 or over 30
All spit and polish or down and dirty
He might be wearing Army green
Or the uniform of a proud Marine
He could be Air Force flying cover
Or Navy in their crafts that hover
He could be Coast Guard on a river
No matter what he will deliver
He’s pledged to give up life and limb
If that is what is asked of him
And all he’ll ask for in return
Is the respect that he has earned
These footsteps that he chose to follow
Echo through the years so hollow
His grandpa’s grandpa’s grandpa’s fought
With Washington their freedom sought
They rode with Grant or maybe Lee
Fighting for their family
And when the Kaiser declared war
They joined to give the guy what for
Then when that German Hitler reigned
They signed up for that war’s campaign
Korea in some frozen field
They stood their ground, there was no yield
And in the jungle, Vietnam
Never knowing peace and calm
They fight despite the known syndrome
Of what awaits them back at home
In Desert Storm and in Iraq
And Afghanistan, they have our back
They fight for honor, fight with pride
But through the years so many died
Though some may question why they fought
Let’s end this now with this one thought
Somewhere tonight a soldier stands
The fate of freedom in his hands
6/25/12
We have a history club here in our community and the chairman of the club asked if I would write a poem for an upcoming meeting all about Vietnam with vets from each of the service talking about their experiences during that war. I wrote two poems - this is one I will read at the meeting.