Best March Out Poems
Day-like nights
By Luxu
The car wheels roll over
The Horn sounds wildly
The street lamp has its claws
A Vaunted fake moon
Shakes the half of the sky with light
The night sobs behind the hills
Stars hide away
People love the light
Better than the dark
The days are stretched like people themselves
A bundle of breaking rubber bands
A cunning fox'tail
A group of drowning men
A last straw
All march out
Deep into the night
U: “March out, arm in arm, Americans all.”
Q: (Keep freedom’s fires stoked and burning.)
U: “Unfurl Old Glory while we heed the call.”
Q: (Tell the truth to all the young ones yearning.)
U: “Take back your land from this lunatic fringe.”
Q: (With all the corners that we’ve been turning.)
U: “Their true agenda makes a good man cringe.”
Q: (Point out the fact that we’re still learning.)
U: “Shout it long and loud, we’re number one.”
Q: (So beware of all the blowhards braying.)
U: “There isn’t anything that we haven’t done?”
Q: (Scoundrel’s colors, too bold displaying.)
U: “Whatever’s wrong, we’ll make it right.”
Q: (They’ve torn the flag, the flag is fraying.)
U: “For our future’s looking awfully bright”
Q: (Can we comprehend the price we’re paying?)
U: “We’re so lucky to be living here.”
Q: (Stop all the pigs of privilege squealing.)
U: “We all love this land, so give out a cheer.”
Q: (Expose the truth that they’re concealing.)
U: “And those who don’t, they can leave today.”
Q: (That keeps the selfish interests stealing.)
U: “Well, they have nothing ever good to say!”
Q: (Then begin the long hard task of healing.)
U: “Cast out the cowards who lead us astray!”
Q: (True liberty is a field worth growing.)
U: “We know the best is yet to come. Hooray!”
Q: (Seeds of sacrifice are still worth sowing.)
U: “Lift up those glasses, now here’s a toast!”
Q: (Yes, question every course we’re going.)
U: “We’re the country that we love the most!”
Q: (Or a crisper wind will soon be blowing.)
The beat is so enchanting
as we march out of the rising sun
arm in arm, facing all our fear
dancing to songs we only hear
we skip along together
on days we truly treasure
playful touches, silly faces
with you life is so much fun
midnight strolls along the sea
as happy as can be
How could I not love you
with that glimmer in your eye
How could I not love you
we will never say good bye
An angel flew down from heaven
and appeared before this man
bringing answers to his questions
leading him to the promised land
Almost a century ago
Innocent blood was spilt
Almost a century ago
But there remains the guilt
The world must acknowledge
The Armenian genocide
The blood won’t wash away
There is no place to hide
One million and a half
Of Armenians met death
Their hopes and dreams extinguished
Gone out with their last breath
The women brutally raped
And their husbands shot or hung
How many of their songs
To this day remain unsung
The children weak and fragile
Dying for want of some bread
Left in the desert to die
Buzzards flying overhead
The sick and the elderly
Were discarded on the way
No one to weep and mourn
When their bodies saw light of day
The mothers dying slow deaths
Seeing children turn to bone
Wanting to feed them their flesh
Knowing they’ll not see them grown
The young girls flying off cliffs
Rather than suffer disgrace
Others hiding their beauty
By disfiguring their face
The soldiers with stone hearts
Deaf to the moaning sounds
Of the dead and the dying
Strewn on the desert ground
Faceless nameless people
Identity stripped away
Not honored with a number
In this gruesome tragic play
Their blood is crying out
Like faithful Abel of old
Still demanding justice
Their story must be told
The genocide of my people
Was not hidden from God’s eyes
The world may now deny it
May feed naive people lies
But every single blood drop
Will be accounted for one day
The murderers will face judgment
To escape- there’ll be no way
The Judgment day is coming
My people will see the light
They will be vindicated
They will march out of death’s night.
They will be reunited
With loved ones that they have lost
For their souls we now seek justice
We will achieve it at all cost.
Eileen Manassian Ghali
ANOTHER GRADUATION
Another graduation! The seniors walk the aisle,
They stop and face the audience, they pose there with a smile.
Another graduation! Their school years now are through,
They have a great decision now just what they will do.
They reach for their diploma, and someone shakes their hand,
They march out in procession while everybody stands.
The ceremony’s over, and many are so proud
Their son or daughter made it! They cheer then in the crowd.
Another graduation! Life’s story is all told,
Another saint is walking upon the streets of gold.
Another graduation! Their life of trials is o’er,
They have a great reunion upon the heavenly shore.
They reach for crowns and trophies, then lay them at Christ’s feet,
They sing for joy and gladness as everyone they meet.
And now though we here miss them, we’re comforted to know
This loved one is in heaven! They knew there they would go!
Life’s full of graduations--we live, we learn, we grow,
But there’s one graduation to which we all must go:
Death’s door for us will open as it has for this one;
Will you, too, see the Savior and hear Him say, “Well done”?
You may be educated, you may be rich or good,
But all your human efforts and where in life you stood
Is not the way to heaven; no, you must come God’s way;
Trust Him for your salvation, be saved, my friend, today.
A pendulum swings
Right, left, right, left
A bomb flies out and there is no life left to detect
A pendulum swings
Left, right, left, right
A newborn baby is being delivered tonight
A pendulum swings
Right, left, right, left
The troops march out to this bloodshed dressed
A pendulum swings
Left, right, left, right
The child picks up a toy gun as they start to fight
A pendulum swings
Right, left, right, left
Shots fired as bullets penetrate the chest
A pendulum swings
Left, right, left, right
The child is drafted with a single invite
A pendulum swings
Right, left, right, left
A body dropped, another soldier confessed
A pendulum swings
Left, right, left, right
A body was found with the next daylight
A pendulum swings
Right, left, right, left
A soldier falls into a slumber, severely depressed
A pendulum swings
Left, right, left, right
A body returned with the next noon flight
A pendulum swings
Right, left, right, left
A soldier hung themself with their final tactical belt
A pendulum stops
Both lives are gone
A battle they fought
But neither of them won
It wasn’t their war
But neither could outrun
Now they are just a memory
While the snake takes another for fun
Writing this letter
As I'm sitting in my company.
We're about to march out
To keep our country free.
Dear mother at home,
I love you.
Don't ever doubt
I do.
I miss you
Be safe and sound.
Love, your soldier
From a small town.
Talking to you on the phone
From thousands of miles away.
I can't bring myself to tell you
What I saw today.
Dear father in heaven,
Keep me safe and warm.
I know you watch over me
Help me out of this storm.
I miss you
You know I do.
Love, you soldier
Who'd be nothing without you.
As I'm sitting in this hole
You're all that's on my mind.
As I watch the battle rage
You're the peace that I can find.
Dear baby,
I love you.
I need you to know
That I do.
I miss you
I'll be home soon.
Love, your soldier
Who's the sun to your moon.
The plane ride has come
And the landing is smooth.
People are crying
As they welcome you.
Dear everyone,
I want you to know.
I fought my best
But now I have to go.
I love you all
And I miss you more.
Love, your soldier
Who is home from war.
Timidity ran all over me,
I got frightened for the day
Corpers march out of the camp
Bidding service to their homeland bye
A compulsory year for “ajuwaya”.
Of waste to many
Of hilarious time out to some
Of acculturation to others
Of enslavement in a glorified den.
With the inscription NYSC on white top
Brownish khaki below
Para-force orange boot to march
Ajuwaya’s hope dashed after 365 days
Dream killed for future seeds
Aspirations in korper’s khaki cut off
As they are unleashed to joblessness
Scattered into hopelessness of labour market
Here comes the “korpersion”
In search of future in confusion
Outside the very den after gyration
In a kingdom with no future.
Alayande Stephen. T
2.55pm
17th August 2006
Ajuwaya- a term used for fresh undergraduate who are
Undergoing one year compulsory service to their father land.
Still on my way, but back to IPC from Apagbon in Lagos on
The behest of IPC Chairman, Lanre Arogundade.
Significantly, it was the pass out day for corpers as they don
the streets in their Khakis.
Refugees came running from Hitlers rule
Save these victims from a death so cruel!
"Never again!" were the words they muttered
"We must defend our land" soon they uttered
Building your home on someone else's land
Planting your flag within Palestine sand
It was your plan, to steal and then expand
From those who reached out and gave you a hand
They said they designated a safe space
Where you won't be attacked. So go! Make haste
Relocate quickly to where it is safe
Unfairly bombed before reaching that place
Many innocent children run and play
While bombs say hi to them every day
Even those in wheel chairs who move with haste
Bombed again before reaching the safe place
Every child who sees his family die
Knows the days of when they were mistreated
They are stricken with heart break as they cry
Grow up to be the next Hamas leader
Social media shows blood that is spilled
Women, children, even newlyweds killed
Babies, prematures and bundles unborn
Never lived their life for they were soon mourned
International courts did not succeed
In saving lives and bringing worldly peace
Lack of love and human rights is portrayed
Through our Society's moral decay
The stale air smells of rubble, blood and fear
As nations march out supporting your side
Oh Palestine! Weep not for peace is near!
And soon there will be no more genocide
Fireworks of death rained on the Gazan sky
Souls journey to heaven saying goodbye
They can try all they want to break your spine
They cannot kill the heart of Palestine!
Thirty-two imperfect kisses march out across the very first page of a scattering
Of another lover's love letters.
A book which, read cover to well-loved cover in an hour or so,
Contains unimaginable sadness and unabridged despair,
But undeniable love, too, much like our own.
My Love, my bones, which are yours now, ache to read of such loss...
And I hope it's never us.
And, in avoiding pain, mirror love, and grow love, and keep love.
With you as my well-loved cover, you as each fragile page and printed line,
When thirty-two imperfect kisses perfect our life in literature.
Two little boys march out of doors to play.
The blue and cloudless sky won’t be denied.
But puddles still remain from yesterday
When crashing thunder caused them both to hide.
The rain has filled the sandbox like a flood
And so they jump and splash and soak their shoes.
Their ankles up past knees covered in mud,
They grin a grin designed to beat the blues.
Then, all across the yard, from house to fence,
They suddenly decide they need to run.
And to their own imagined audience
They dance and sing a song up to the sun.
There’s nothing that can make a heart rejoice
More than the summer play of little boys.
Footprints by the river’s edge,
leading close around the bend,
Leave behind the memories
of young days that came to end.
Whispers on a morning’s breeze
have sprung forth from river’s run,
They carry the promises
of those times still yet to come.
Back upon the middle ground
lost loves echo through the trees,
Yet far beyond windswept plains
they are travelling with ease.
The pathway through meadows green
calls to spirits needing rest,
It will lead to comfort zones
as the sun sets in the west.
Suddenly through murky haze
one can hear slow, beating drums,
They march out the changing guard
that been rebuilding the slums.
Silence greets the fallen walls
in the darkness of the night;
Stain glass windows on the way
hold out endless hope for light.
Open fields of trampled grain
became playgrounds of the lost,
Not even the wisest men
could begin to count that cost.
Now the distant falling rains
wash away the ageing deals,
While judges turn their blind eyes
to the long list of appeals.
Standing by the river’s edge,
listening to the whispered breeze,
I can hear an ancient tongue
begging for the Kingdom’s keys.
I’m not going anywhere
in this burning midday sun;
I will wait upon the times
which were promised still to come.
Sixteen years he’s graced this Earth,
many challenges, but also mirth,
so frigging smart, like off the charts,
I know he’ll capture many hearts,
but troubled still, with many pains,
hope he’ll shed those invisible chains,
and march out into this great world,
band a-playing and flags unfurled,
ready to take his place in line,
I love this eldest child of mine.
Cheers of excitement roar from up ahead.
Our sounds of warm-up drift through the air.
Just even that part gets our adrenaline pumping.
We start to walk perfectly in step.
The clicks, the crowd, and the sound of blood pumping to our hearts are all you
can hear within five miles.
We approach the field.
Now every practice, every piece of hope is sprouting from the pride in what we call
“our band”
We stop.
And hear our leader shout FEET!
Its begun.
Feet, together!
Shoulders, back!
Chest, out!
Chin, up!
Eyes, WITH PRIDE!
Eyes, WITH PRIDE!
Eyes, WITH PRRRIIIIIDDDEE!!!!
We march to our spots.
Even though we have sweat dripping down our faces 100 times worse then
you’ve probably ever seen,
And our arms are hurting from how high our horns are up..just to impress you
And our toes are reaching up to the sky to try and taste the clouds,
The notes come out as if a stamped has arouse,
then without a second gone by,
we play soft and sweetly,
like the birds chirping on an early Sunday morning.
The sounds go from loud to soft, wonderful dynamics.
We shock you.
We continue to shock you by the amazing preciseness.
And by how prepared we have come.
Now we end our show.
We leave you with remarkable music with astonishing marching.
You are surprised by how marvelous we are.
So we march out, exactly as we marched in,
perfectly.
leaving you with the best show we have ever preformed.
We wait and wait to hear our placement.
Were impatient now.
10th- not us.
9th-Marion
Most people would be upset about 9th
Not us.
We are excited
Even though its 9th,
We did our best.
And doing your best while giving 150% is all that counts.
That and putting on a show like the one we preformed!,
That’s all that counts when your in the Marion Patriot Pride Marching Band.
So we drive home, after our competition
AND PRACTICE OUR HEARTS OUT SOME MORE!
Eyes, with pride.
The Marion Band kind of pride.
Back in seventeen eighty-one
The revolution hit hard times,
Britain had taken Charlestown
And at Camden had crushed the lines
Of General Horatio Gates,
Leaving nobody to resist,
Except the Swamp Fox Marion
Who alone was able to persist.
South Carolina had fallen,
And Cornwallis was marching north,
The patriots had to stop him,
But could not yet match up with his force.
So they called up Daniel Morgan,
A brawler who had earned his fame
With his actions at Saratoga,
As a soldier he knew the game.
He was sent to march out westwards,
To harass and gain new supplies,
Cornwallis worried about this,
Let Banastre Tarleton fly.
Tarleton was a cavalry fame,
His infamy now widely known,
He’d butchered his foes at Waxhams,
When upwards their hands had been thrown.
The patriots called him Butcher,,
‘Bloody Bann’ was his sobriquet,
Yet many feared the young colonel,
From his legion they would run away.
But General Morgan knew all this,
He was pragmatic in his approach,
Knew what his men could and couldn’t do,
Where they thrived, where they were laid low.
Knowing Tarleton was close by,
He found a spot called ‘Hannah’s Cowpens,’
Nearby the flooded Broad River,
Here all tradition he’d upend.
Knowing militia ended to flee,
And not face a hand-to-hand fight,
He put their backs to the river,
They couldn’t run to escape their plight.
Now they would fight, or they would die,
But he felt this wasn’t enough,
So he split his force into three lines,
Plotting an elaborate bluff.
If the first he put sharp-shooters,
Told them to shoot ‘Epaulet Men,’
Then set up local militias
To form a line just behind them.
And the back were Continentals,
Tried soldiers of many a year,
These he knew didn’t break and run,
They were the few the British feared.
To top it off he arranged them
All on the slopes of a small hill,
Then waited there for Tarleton
Who expected an easy kill.
Tarleton had seen it all before,
At Charlestown and Camden field,
These rebels could talk a good game,
But in a fight they’d run of they’d yield.
So when he spotted Morgan’s force
He did not bother to survey,
Bold and young, he rushed in headlong
Expecting the militia to break...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.