Best Solders Poems
Where modern Gladiators go to collide
Like solders in prison these warriors ride
Mono el mono this is how they believe
No smoking mirrors or tricks up their sleeve
Guillotine, arm bars and rear naked chokes
Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu certainly isn’t no joke
Royce Gracie changed Mixed Martial Arts
“The Natural” Randy Couture, man what a heart!
Many men have risen and many have fell
To the powerful striking of Chuck Liddell
Ken Shamrock is a warrior who deserves his fame
At UFC 100 Mark Coleman proved he still has game
Big time wrestler Brock Lesnar proved he is no joke
As Anderson Silva continues making fools out of folk
Lyoto Machida is now a champion again
Along with the true Prodigy B.J. Penn
Who is my favorite fighter in the UFC
Without any doubt that would be GSP
Written for Matt's Contest
Started within 30 seconds
written in about 30 minutes
(I had to look up how to
spell a lot of the words)
Actual writing time was about
5 minutes
In Honor Of Georges St.Pierre
Excellent fighting skills
Far across the hills and dales,
Ringing o'er the rills and swales:
Ever nearer, ever louder;
Ever dearer, gaining power.
Drawing hearts and minds to one;
Once sounded out, and once begun
Men cannot fail to hear her calling-
Solders freed from fear of falling.
Calling, crying to her sons,
"All must fight till freedom's won."
Leading them to victory;
Leaving them with liberty.
(Written on the fifth of July, 2015)
When I was laid in field of clay
No flowers above my head did lay
Nor marble headstone placed with care
With words of love chiselled there
No words of sorrow were spoken in pain
Tears of regret did not silken handkerchief stain
No volley of rifles to the sky
No last post lullaby
So when you ask
Were does he lay
This fallen soldier
Of yesterday
I tell you true
And
With pride
I lay with others
Side by side
In every corner
Of
A foreign land
You will find us there
Brother’s band
True Christmas Miracle True Story Full version written by Wendy Horder. 2020
Huddled in muddy trenches, the soldiers heard an eerie sound.
Troops were English, French & Belgians, and as they looked around,
The sound was coming from the German enemy lines just 50 yards away.
It was singing, and the German soldiers were approaching on that day.
It was the twenty fourth of December nineteen fourteen.
Between France and Belgium, The Western Front, was the scene.
As Germans left their trenches a cry of “Merry Christmas” could be heard.
Our solders could only watch without saying, even one word.
The German solders looked so jovial, it didn’t seem to be a trick,
Our soldiers hesitated, slowly coming out, their actions were not quick.
Soon they were striding up to the oncoming soldiers, accepting their invite.
The beautiful singing drew them in, even though they feared it wasn’t right.
There was laughing and joking, and they all exchanged gifts sent from home.
Seemed all men were the same, didn’t matter from where they roam.
They smoked and showed each other photos of their children & wives.
For a short time, they were comrades not one bit afraid for their lives.
As night fell, drowned in soft moonlight, German carols filled the air.
For the first time since the war began, each soldier felt comfort there.
Laughter resounded, and the allies began O Come All Ye Faithful, in tune.
Germans sang the same Hymn, in Latin Adeste Fideles, under the moon.
I wonder if it crossed their minds “Just what are we fighting for?”
How extraordinary, enemies singing together a carol in the middle of a war.
By morning gifts of cake, smokes and clothes were exchanged by each side.
Men chatting as a magician and a juggler were enjoyed, with eyes open wide.
A barber in civilian life, gave haircuts. Soldiers had notes they addressed,
Hoping to be taken to their loved ones in France and England in the west.
Soccer broke out. The game went hours, that history making Christmas day.
Soldiers on both sides spent time burying their comrades, to their dismay.
Soldiers who had been killed in fighting that preceded that wonderful truce.
A truce that should be an example of what we humans can willingly produce.
A true show, that men aren’t killing machines, everyone, a husband or a son.
A true Christmas Miracle from the bloody chapters of World War One.
Storms of the soul invade my perception
Yearning for a personal resurrection.
Fragmented emotions dangle from each new face
Leaving me in an empty place.
Fires once ignited grow rapidly dim
Because of the sin that dwells within.
Phantom lovers drift in and out
Claiming to know what love is all about.
`Bruised an rejected
Far from perfected.
Injected with madness
To drown out this sadness.
Lost yesterday’s lead into my tomorrows
While the voice of reason drowns out this sorrow.
Abandoned in a land famished and dry
The absence of water restricts my eyes to cry.
Violent assaults protrude at my mind
Only in sweet silence will my heart ever shine.
All of these voices demand my attention
It’s as if they reserved for me a reputable pension.
Roads of confusion are filled with delusion
Seducing our solders while leaving them colder
How do you get out of web spun for fun?
It’s only by mercy, it’s only by one
Armies of darkness capture each being
Claiming ownership over all that we are seeing
Facetious attempts to keep our men bent
But as they grow closer the angels are sent.
Once on the field they will not relent
There is grace for all those that gladly repent.
Victory smells like a clear spring day
When colors of dismay quickly fade away
Pillars of flames light up the clear night
And the fights you’ve been fighting suddenly grows light
For battles were never meant to be fought on our own
In the mist of all chaos we can hear heavens song.
By: Sabina Nicole
United at the family hearth the united kindred do gather,
Heart and home filled with holiday warmth, these are the
Blessings of Thanksgiving.
Legacy’s treasured reunion, our loved ones sharing traditions
Sacred season, with their heads bowed low in prayers faith,
Then feasting in graces bounty of love.
Blown from heaven is the horn of plenty, by the angels of the lord
Almighty, blessing this table filled with honesty’s joyous festivities,
Humbled in this picturesque display of friendship and devotion
In cherishes memories of celebration, we do reflect in life’s
After glow bathing in its remnants of remembrances of
The past.
Slenderly, sliced is this piece of the American Apple pie,
Placed gingerly upon the international feasting tray,
For those to share both homewards and abroad.
In our society of diversity, we are united beneath many
Flags and cultures, yet this is the true meaning
Of this holiday of blessings promise to be
Thankful for our differences and uniqueness,
And to share in loves dream of togetherness.
Stirred in our great American melting pot,
Are color, creed and religious indifference?
To expose the warmth of humanities kindred ship,
And acceptance, blanketed beneath freedom’s
Calling of the stars and stripes liberty bell.
The solders of international valor, lay down their
Arms of war, united in the holiday of life’s brotherhood.
To share the blessings of traditions answer to one
Day know peace at last.
Thanksgiving miracle in truth, is hands crossing over
The shores of ignorance, pulling off the blinders of
Intolerance and bowing our heads in prayer at a broader
Scale’s table of sharing with our fellow man.
United at the family hearth the united kindred do gather,
Heart and home filled with holiday warmth these are
The true blessing of Thanksgiving.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
This song;
For you
It goes back to time
Of ages compacted with lime
Something like;
Aiming an arrow to the pupil of the bull’s eye
Or poaching the miniscule creatures above
It was us! Remember?
-me, you and others.
We never played the piracy game
Or threw bullets at one another on horse backs
No…!
Nor did we travel on jets and took ‘others’ lives
By our tiny manipulative bombs.
No!
We shook the world like solders marching through ‘E’vans Avenue’
-Great!
We filled and enlivened the world through the
Melodious tone of our souls
And, as firm as rock we spiced and tuned others lives
Leaving only one word from those who analytically witnessed us
-Heroines
yes, heroines
the Victorians of those gone days
-thanks for the origin of the name
my gratitude and appreciation goes to you, others and I
For
Every Eternal
Valuable
Awarding
Nest of
Sisterhood
That crowned on it the fruits of our youth
Creating, building and leaving
an Avenue of memory.
this was a dedication I wrote to my high school classmates. it was a boarding school for girls only.
Written between 2000-2003
Just the young thoughts of the young mind
Journey To Freedom
I awake in the morning and
and see the stars and stripes in my head
I stare at the picture of the statute of the
grand lady hanging over my bed.
At night I see dreams of me coming over in a boat.
Tragedy strikes and bodies are afloat.
I walk through the underground tunnel in the cold,
from the land of the Aztec that has no more gold.
Sailing across with no visibility.
to the shores of humanity,
crossing over the sea on a raft of logs.
We are in Arizona hiding from the border patrol dogs.
I hide in the wheel compartment of the airplane.
Fearful and sweating I may never see life again.
I can see my dream coming true,
after reaching the land of the red, white and blue.
My quest for freedom is dangerously bold.
Once I get there I will love it I’m told.
Packed like sardines in a hot stuffy van.
No life in my country now I’m fooled by this man.
We are a secret living invisible among the free
in a country with so many liberties
I will sacrifice my life, even live illegally,
to give a better life to my family.
I walk through the California mountains.
I come by the Florida coast.
Proud to be here, but I cannot boast.
I come from a place of a thousand sands
with forced religion and marriage plans.
I am from a land with permanent cast
No matter how far I get I will always be last.
I come from a land where citizens have no voice.
Children solders have no choice.
In the country of the sun, diamonds rules the mind of men.
Citizens fighting wars they will never win.
We risk everything to have a better life,
to be in the land of opportunity
to taste that sweet liberty.
Career in crisis
Starlets arrested
Stupidity attracts
Media attention.
I used to read the news
And watch TV
Now I skim the ads
And close my eyes
Because I know
Everyone is someone else’s fool.
Iraq is burning
Politicians debate
Young solders die
And citizens go about
Their lives
Unconnected
Uninvolved
In a dead end war.
Medical care
Force the old
To choose between
Living or surviving
And the young
Struggle to save
As jobs fade overseas
If life and memory
Are the glue that holds us together
Then how did we ever forget
The lessons from past generations?
Thursdays that disappoint !
A sadness reigns .
Some Thursdays come, most by, do go.
Why everyone does not flow ?, I do not know.
A lube job for you, an oil change for me.
No consistency, why ?, this I can not see.
Now taking two hours, sometimes more
When it used to be twenty minutes to my door.
Slipping the head of the family into the crevice.
Sliding effortlessly into that moist, dark cave.
Penetrating, feeling, touching walls that gave
shelter – for a time – to little solders on the run.
In search for that nest of eggs, now only for fun.
For the years have taken, as did a medical device.
Knowledge of, know full well that this cave is barren.
Representing only a portion of its former self.
The rest placed upon some medical shelf.
Gone is the time of productivity, into space, staren.
In search of, becomes the joy, the adventure,
the desire and the pleasures, during a time.
Times of closeness, not always, are they mine.
That is alright, I guess, with this families head.
Not alight are the excuses, the reasons I am fed
for the loss, the denial of Thursday night,
the searches, resurrecting of the hunt I might
continue - in that beautiful cave – searching.
Trying to find the right door, reaching.
Searching for those none existent eggs, to ply
the pleasures found in the hunt – denied, why?
One has to wonder, what was your game.
To know all the others, to know their name,
Would not comfort, would not make things the same.
No !, and should the hunt come to an end ?,
know, that no matter what, I will still be a friend.
Know that consistency is the spice of life,
as is spontaneity and desire without strife.
Has life in the spice jar, been forever lost ?
Celibacy, indifference, aloneness the cost ?
B. J. “A ” 2
April 10th 2005
Page 4
They do not move a muscle
Nor give unto their fears
But contemplate their carnage
Have you even not, one tear
Had I known you like I do now
You wicked callous beast
I never would have shown you
That my heart was in your reach
When the first drop of precious blood
Impacts upon this ground
I swear I’ll not forgive you
And by the Gods I’ll strike you down
But could we not turn, this tide
And you and I once more
Find the love sent from about
And do, as we adore
NO, cause you insist to make my wish
Lie broken on the floor
And wear a glove while touching love
Just like a filthy whore
Don’t think the Gods won’t notice
You’re defiled and you’re sick
By using love to hide behind
To pull this dirty trick
Page 5
Ah, to one trick there’s another
And I possess my share
Be patience and I’ll show you
What can happen to your lair
With cunning and with cruelty
My counsel will evoke
A very cunning plan
That would make Poseidon choke
I will converse, with Apollo
To have the sun replace the moon
So therefore catch a tan
If it’s possible, by noon
Then I’ll call on my Seamstress
To sew me something smart
With these hand made silver boots
This is Fashion’s off the charts
Of course all my solders
Will be dressed up in their best
Tunics will be optional
And so might the rest
We will decorate the beach
With a bonfire and some torches
So the enemy can watch
While they’re lounging on their porches
Page 6
Send a ship down to the tropics
I think seafood would be nice
And one up to the artic
To fetch all some ice
I know some Greek dancing songs
We’ll get the band to play
And I’ll maybe sing a solo
To melt, their hearts away
Cause no one, but no one
Puts a party on like me
And makes the end to every war
A spectacle to see
When things start dieing down
Very late at night
We all crawl to our ships
And we’ll put out the lights
We give them the impression
We’re all drunk and going home
This should make them feel relieved
That we’re leaving them alone
But that is when we pull
The oldest trick, found in the book
With a sinister contraption
This deception’s off the hook
To Be Continued.................
I never knew my mother father
He died when she was about five years old
He was quite an adventurous man
So there was a lot about him to be told
He was an Indian soldier in the British army
During the world war one campaign
He Came to Trinidad from India
And never return to India again
I don’t know how he met my grandmother
Or how their romance did began
Because my grandmother was born handicap
With Deformed feet and hand
But it must have been love at first sight
That moment must have been really great
I wish I had ask her about that moment
But I never think about it till it’s too late
I don’t even know the date or year
But they got married a little while after
She must have been really beautiful
And he must have really love her
They had one child which is my “my mother
Then my grand father died when she was five
He was taking her to India to see his family
But Got sick and he didn’t survive
I remember my mother telling stories
That her father use to tell to her
About all the places he has been to
And bout his time in the war
And about one time he and other solders
Was tired in the forest and took a brake
Think they sat down on a log of a tree
But it really a big fat snake
She taught her a lot at a very early age
He taught her how to build camp fires
And he use lift her on his shoulders
he gave her a lot hopes and desire’s
she told how he build her a chair
And he listens to her every dream
How she would spend all his time with her
And made her home made ice cream
And how he has so many stories
He use to tell to her every day
He would about his family in India
And he never ran out of things to say.
And thought he died when she was five
She remembers every thing about him
Some thing that she will never forget
She carries with her forever within
My mother says I look like her father
And sometimes she looks at me and sees him
My grand father was about six feet tall
With muscles, very handsome and slim
And though my grandmother was handicap
She just captured his heart completely
This proves when the magic of love comes
True love knows no boundary
Now they are just apart of our history
And their story was of a time before
I’m writing from recollections’ of my memory
I wish I could of remember and write a lot more
We who survived the Holocaust
My life was taken away from me.
I was an unknown Jewish prisoner.
The Germans sent me to a concentration camp.
We had no food, which lead to starvation.
I wish I had a different life
I had a golden crown that could lead me to sudden pain.
I had to march for hours and hours till I reached a point where I can feel pain
beneath my feet.
I had to watch my Dad being wiped by German solders.
I didn’t have any rights or freedom.
In this society it’s all about life or death.
I am a young boy named Elie who is determined to live a healthy life.
I come from a poor family.
I sleep in a small room crammed with innocent Jews.
I pray and pray that my destiny lies in gods hands hoping to live.
I deal with father and son relationships only.
I had to bury bodies including my Dads whose body I couldn’t save.
I had to watch people being tortured like my Dad.
I lived because I believed in God and God believed in me.
We survived the holocaust.
My life was changed forever.
I was a Danish woman who risked my life for a friend named Ellen.
I was sent for help.
I felt bad for Ellen to a point where I was so depressed all I could do is fall to the
floor.
I had a life that I was willing to save which could lead me to sudden death.
I had to take care of my family everyday.
For days and days I had to lie to the German soldiers for my own sake.
I had a lot of freedom because the German’s didn’t care about Danish people.
I am a ten-year old girl named Annemarie.
I came from a wealthy family.
I sleep in a peaceful house with less, people and more space to move around.
I deal with problems that my friends and family faces.
I had to be in dangerous situations that could nearly get me killed.
I had to watch the Nazi’s destroy houses that the Jew’s lived in.
War
dirty, bloody
fighting, destroying, killing
weapons, solders, diplomats, trade
understanding, helping, sharing
clean, lasting
peace
Over two hundred million people sleeps and wake without a leader,
A cloned effigy in a rock called "Aso"
too old to lead or long dead to be,
demented or dead, they cannot tell,
old age has come but he would not leave.
a cult of connivers shields a tyrant,
with ceaseless speeches and empty promises,
One A Liar , some are writers and others are twitvist,
Two years of silence and none dare ask,
where is the President who took the oath?
Over two hundred million heads bowed to corruption,
East and west the groans is Loud,
where right is wrong and wrongs is praised.
The governors or senator and ministers too,
all aligned to loot the treasury,
recycled bandits in seats of honor,
Judges are blinded and the media subdued,
as brown envelop diverts attention.
over two hundred million destinies suspended,
#ENDSARS was their last successful outcry
a revolution too soon suspended
From Bonny Barracks to Lekki, criminals in uniform murdered unity.
bludgeoned agitators with the barrels the errand boys of a dictator police and solders.
and the masses too scared for a total freedom,
returned to apathy and unending subjugation
Over two hundred Million deprived masses.,
controlled as slaves by a hundred old despots,
Littered across cultures and tribes, a handful few protected by guns,
ex criminals , Presidents and ex all,
with looted funds in London and and Zurich,
atop hills in gaudy wealth,
unaffected by the groaning of a people nestled in penury,
Over two hundred million people disunited,
who by amalgam compelled by Britain's Lugard,
Feudalism and lie called democracy.
The minority herders on a mission
they took the yam and knife without resistance.
where beggars becomes a tyrant after election (Rigged)
and the masses dare not demand accountability
over two hundred million sufferers gave oppressor a breathing space,
where servants becomes the Boss,
without pacifying and unwilling to yield
the Loot looted named palliatives.
old tyrant mock democracy by decrees
What country ?
Don't ask me.
you know it well