Best Uniform Poems
So I see how cruel life may be in a minute,
All around people’s faces gleam & glare
At my gloomy face but never see my net.
And I cry and cry and cry to get ‘em fair.
From times past, I knew of what may be
The finale of this sweet short time gained;
But now it comes with great dismay, to me.
With thoughts of melancholy stained.
Am losing my job to my brother,
I teach him my work as a father
Does to his sons and to the other,
He knows not my hearts as they gather.
They give a life, a life they can’t retain,
They offer me a choice, a choice not mine;
They lead me to the grave, to bury me and the ten;
But they in turn smile and smile as they dine
And so I see that they are not to be
The people I perceive may little see,
My serene into whirlwind occur to me
At a peek and glaze and short see.
Whatever the Asian will decide,
However I cope with them all,
I implore all the good to side
With me as evil entirely will fall.
Categories:
uniform, depression, life, sad, social,
Form:
Rhyme
I noticed the uniform, and the heavy soled shinny black boots
Not the man within it, I apologized.
I remember the clean fresh smell of maleness, as they stormed into the house,
Broken glass, ripped down hangings, a slashed sofa, a pulled curtain,
A sudden maneuver to throw my brother’s bear across the yard,
Such military worries, hidden bombs in a child’s best friend.
Your broken cross I buried in our garden after they left.God, come back to my house, I am
waiting.
All I saw were figures painted the colour of grass and bark,
with gilded edges traced by some crazed church painter's brush,
faceless with pockets full of bullets and chords,
Their arms intertwined with red eyes and swollen hands of my teachers,
Stiff figures against the soft jeans, sweaters, and knitted hats below.
Standing witness in the yard above watching, I waited for her to die.
Shinny black like the dirt dug from the mass grave,
Full of crumbled human bits, decaying coloured cloth,
while the sun scorched the group sorting the cellular samples
I saw the black boots etched into the bone fragments.
Lost bones of lost loved ones from empty families,
Standing in the desert, I wait for a name.
No, I do not see you the man, just the uniform.
I see the butt of the gun, the dent of the boot, the slickness in the air,
the cruel power of the swirl jungle green print with gold trim.
As a witness God left me, and I was waiting.
Change, let me meet the man,
maybe the waiting is over.
Categories:
uniform, political
Form:
Romanticism
Well organized organisms are wary of defense
these shields defy all odds to justify the integrity of our borders
the enemy’s need to conquer and the drive to dominate
is stopped b’cos with the men in uniform, great cities are fortified.
Sworn to be dedicated back room boys
their sacrifices have made livelihood well simplified,
every soldier’s fall magnifies our strength and existence
each and every salute dignifies the country’s reputation.
The quest to penetrate border and envelope lands are questioned
b’cos with the last drop of blood, they’ll nullify all antigens
placed as utmost priority, even the ants can comprehend
nothing can therefore falsify the commitment of these men.
A nation’s defense scales its survival
every victory intensifies each citizen’s patriotic passion
a country’s posterity lies on each sweat-soaked uniform,
their mortality is crucified, while someone else-glorified.
The oneness of the country can testify
with every of its citizens fully satisfied.
Diplomacy has kept the battle field’s frequency modified
but history of victories already beautifies our coat of arm
With the structure of nationhood so diversified,
the zenith of their zeal has kept us unified
the globe has been notified of such a powerful drive,
keeping our enemies and rivals completely horrified.
Categories:
uniform, beautiful, blessing, integrity,
Form:
Free verse
It's in a turtle soup shop where I'm employed
It's my duty to cook vomit-inducing soup turtle
which no decent human palate could stand;
a horrid job and a salary which is even worse,
an insult to my brilliant overdeveloped mind;
Not to mention the iniquitous schedule,
though there's something much worse:
the appalling uniform which is an insult
to a nonfrivolous mind like mine;
and in no way instrumental in contributing
to social elegance but a pathological attack
on good taste and gumption!
a distorted regurgitation of undigested
food for thought!
A lavender cup with the grotesque company logo!
The unsightly checked fuchsia and gray pants!
And to top it all: a striped khaki and purple poncho!
My odious uniform! Imported from Togo!
A lovely idea had the company's honcho!
An idea that my Togolese friend rejects!
I hug him! I look up to him!
'Cause he abhors both poncho and honcho!
Cripes! Yikes!
Dinner's ready! Yucky turtle soup I shall regurgitate!
Categories:
uniform, absence, angst, bereavement, native
Form:
Light Verse
The Uniform
When I grew up if you came from a poor or austere home,
the joining of the merchant navy could be a rescue,
if you kept your nose clean and went to a navy academy
you could become an officer and got to wear uniform.
I did go to school and after seven years of drudgery I was
a catering officer, with three silver stripes on my uniform.
Only other officers, say, those the bridge or engine wore
golden stripes, again I felt inferior ditched my uniform wore
a blue blazer instead, golden buttons, my title and logo like
firework on my chest. When It dawned on me I had reached
the pinnacle of my career I wasn´t going any further and
promptly lost interest in the supplying profession.
I wore T shirt and jeans tried to be equal only to discover
when you are an officer the crew will never accept you as
an equal and will treat you as the fool you are
Categories:
uniform, humor,
Form:
Blank verse
The event was an annual affair,
and all the town would be there
determined that no one shall dissuade,
The old soldier went to the fourth of July parade
He dressed in his old military uniform
frayed, tattered and worn
on his chest he wore the Bronze and Silver Stars
awarded for heroism in the Vietnam and Korean Wars
The cheering crowd lined the sidewalk
the throng stretching from block to block
He walked with dignity and grace
Pride and Honor etched on his wrinkled face
There among the cheering crowd
Cheering sounds deep and loud
There before him passed floats and bands
Beautiful young girls waving their hands
In the distant heard the American anthem began
to play and the old soldier proudly raised his hand
as best as he could with honor erectly stood
There among the crowd a portrait of all that's good
Then Old Glory came passing by
Tears slowly appeared in his eye
in remembrance of his dying friends;
brothers' in arms until eternity ends
Not for adulation or applause
Freedom, Freedom! A worthy cause
Freedom for our democracy
And to ensure a free Society.
Categories:
uniform, courage, devotion, faith, freedom,
Form:
Rhyme
This was unexpected.
You, the man my heart seeks.
How could it be possible that it is true?
Is it happening?
For me and you?
A man in uniform.
I have fallen for.
Stupidly I let myself go.
Where no woman wants to go.
You could die in battle.
Be blown to smithereens.
Take a gunshot to the heart.
And bleed out.
But I can’t stop what is in progression.
They say the heart wants what the heart wants.
But do I want this?
No.
YES.
My brain and heart battle.
Should I choose logic over my heart’s desire?
But how can I stop this fire?
To let romance and passion go denied.
It seems so wrong.
I know he’ll be in the military long.
So how long can I wait?
Is it destiny, maybe fate?
He is a good solider, he won’t break my heart.
But will I break his?
Man In uniform, leaving for the army.
What would you do if I asked you to stay?
But I can’t.
It would be dishonorable.
But the truth is.
I love you.
Man fighting for the red white and blue.
-Dedicated to loved ones who have someone fighting for the USA
Categories:
uniform, hope, love, sad, warheart,
Form:
Your uniform is like unto a sonnet
And you, a poem dressed in vest and skirt.
How peaceful are the eyes that rest upon it
Creative spirit framed in pressed white shirt.
As birds that soar the heights on freedom's wing
Require sturdy skeletons for strength,
The poet, though confined, writes words that sing,
Conformed to proper meter, rhyme, and length.
What landscapes and still lifes the poet paints
Rich words that cause her readers to rejoice,
And all within the sonnet's strict constraints -
She reaches deep within and finds her voice.
Small freedoms may be sacrificed by you,
But still your creativity shines through.
Author's Note - written for my daughter on her first day of high school where school uniforms were mandatory, causing no small amount of chafing in her creative spirit!
Categories:
uniform, 11th grade, daughter, poetess,
Form:
Sonnet
Upon me is a garment,
unlike any other.
An entity that I share,
with my sister and my brother.
Worn on the battlefield,
and when ever were, at home.
A representation of our strength,
where ever place we roam.
Another part of my being,
like my character, from within.
Becoming a dear close friend, that truly knows,
what I done, and where I been.
An a reminder to those,
whom never been, a participant, to a war.
The price for life, paid for freedom,
of soldiers, who truly been there before.
Of soldiers, not thinking twice,
getting dressed in uniform attire.
Fighting for freedom, till the end,
while under extreme enemy fire.
So, please pay your absolute respects,
when a uniform soldier, is ever near.
He or she does, what they do, for country,
despite their hardship, and their fear.
Categories:
uniform, war,
Form:
Rhyme
You’re fake to the bone,
Hair, face, friendship;
Fake, fake, fake.
Walking around the school halls like top dog,
While we laugh as an extension falls out.
Pushing out that flat chest trying to emphasis.
Walking around swinging those hips so much,
Girl, you should come with a hazard sign!
We wince as you use that deliberate shriek of a laugh.
You drape those orang-utan arms around his neck,
Craving his attention.
My man shakes you off and pulls me closer.
“Owww, what a whelk she is!” my man says to me,
I laugh and reply
“More like a whelk with extensions and a uniform!”
Categories:
uniform, funny, school, teen
Form:
She has a pretty face
She carries herself well
In uniform she is an iconic
Many so desire her moments
A detective she carries her gun well
When duty calls she flashes her smile
Its a smile i have see disarm many
She has no use for brute force
For her lovely essence nets all delinquents
I used to spy her long time ago
At the signals training school
Once we were Seim Cohorts
Remember.. Kurutu mbona hanyoi..
God knows what followed that
Her MO disarms with ease and grace
My MO disarms with an O prerogative
Saidia Utumishi.. They also need service
Our officers in uniform have to be served too
That's where PMC's we come in and succeed
For controlled outcomes and black ops OP
Categories:
uniform, appreciation, dedication, deep, emotions,
Form:
Blank verse
The Uniform
I have a framed photo on my desk of three little boys
dressed in oversized German uniforms doing a nazi salute
A black, square box- camera, a picture was taken
in 1946. I was eight years old.
My uniform jacket reached below my knees like an over
an overcoat was roomy and warm and shielded me from
the cold westerly wind that blew over the flat landscape
and trees stood permanently bent as elderly people are
I was allowed to keep the/jacket coat and happily walked home
The war (as wars go) had been a mild one; we didn’t know
that millions of people had died under much suffering
in the name of a “Hail Hitler.”
At home, my mother refused to sew natural buttons on my coat
and rejected me wearing it outside, but she didn’t mind
if I wore it inside, as it was warm and we had little coal for
heating when the weather was cold.
The grownups make a child’s world difficult so, many things
are forbidden, don’t do this, don’t do that, an endless warning
against what was daring; I wore my coat till it shrunk and
became a jacket and too tight around my shoulders.
Categories:
uniform, best friend, break up,
Form:
Blank verse
Queen Bess's Uniform
We didn’t want the frostbite
We didn’t want the burns
We didn’t want to leave our homes
And families far astern.
We didn’t like the future
As we grimly sailed away
But we wore Queen Bess’s Uniform
And did it anyway.
We didn’t want the battle
Or the bayonets at night
We didn’t want to lose our lives
In such a distant fight
We didn’t want the air raids
Every moment of the day.
But we wore Queen Bess’s Uniform
And did it anyway.
We didn’t want a medal
Or parades in front of crowds
We didn’t go there
Just because we wanted to look proud.
If we’d known then what we know now
We might have stayed away
But we wore Queen Bess’s Uniform
And did it anyway.
Categories:
uniform, appreciation, war,
Form:
Rhyme
This foreign fabric rubs my spirit raw
and childish gossip whispers from the folds
of matching wardrobes picking threadwork flaws
to make them all more splendid to behold.
I've learned the dance but I can't follow it
with those dramatic twists and pompous moves.
Assuming colors cannot make me fit
into the scheme of babes with much to prove!
Although I'm tucked into a uniform
beneath there's more than what I'll ever share,
an armor woven while I danced life's storms
in only metaphoric underwear.
I hope that each define themselves by more
than all the uniforms they may have worn.
Categories:
uniform, introspection,
Form:
Sonnet
Dressed up in Khaki, or olive and green,
A new kind of terror, before unseen.
Betraying all of a nations trust,
Making poor civilians, bite the dust.
Is there no one to bring them to bust?
Before being recipients of public disgust.
Never been known for such things in yore;
A new born trend at our own back door.
Guardians the world thought to be truly just,
Now hunger for blood and sexual lust.
If we don’t immediately put a stop;
The entire defence mechanism, will be seen as a flop.
It’s the powers that be, who have to get them punished;
Failing which, they’ll have an image so tarnished.
Once thought by the others, as choice cannon fodder;
They’re giving intelligent countrymen a whole lot of bother.
These men who are expected to defend mankind,
Have turned into monsters of a different kind.
Prince Freakasso
(painter & poet)
Categories:
uniform, angst
Form:
Free verse