Best Veterans Poems


Premium Member God Bless America

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

Still a Soldier

I lay here today a soldier
I know some don't understand
I will try to explain
So maybe you can

I served my country
For many a year
I retired long ago
The soldier still here

I put on my uniform
I wore it to foreign lands
The soldier I was
Is still in the man

I have been a husband, father, and friend
To some of you here
But I've been a soldier all along
Even after so many a year

My final salute
I render today
I'm still a soldier
I'm just on my way

How About This For Veterans Day

How About This for Veterans Day

A monthly Monday morning military meeting
Would be great for them as way of greeting
Talking about things happening another day
Of past successes and prices they had to pay.

Enlisted Term of Service (ETS) had expired
Veterans honorably left service or retired
And here a home they all have selected
Exist in society again and highly respected.

Should show them what they mean to us
Give them this one day a month to discuss
And talk about old times gone by and past
That in their many minds will last and last.

May have survived or died across an ocean
Have priest do a one day a month devotion
Who is of sound mine, body and good health
Even retired veteran with knowledge a wealth.

A 0700 meeting on 3d Monday of each month 
would be a great way to show how much we 
appreciate them like all. I am preparing this poem
out of respect for those to be recognized on this 
great Veterans Recognition Day. My dad was killed 
in an accident on the Aircraft Carrier Intrepid CNA-11 
now in New York Harbor. This makes me a War 
Orphan and I am also a retired veteran myself.

James Thomas Horn
Retire Veteran and Poet
RiverSea Plantation
Bolivia, NC
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Couplet


Premium Member Invisible: Co-Written With C Devonshire

clad in rags, he wanders on Wall Street
   he is invisible to hustling stock brokers
       he is a man with no money, no property
          a hapless struggler of excessive loan burdens
 
bitter winter winds blow across Broadway
   he is invisible to affluent theatre-goers wearing warm winter coats
      he is a man who watches them scurry past the cardboard box that is his bed
        like a rain-dog, huddling in the shadows of alleys and doorways
 
he hears deafening explosions of New Year fireworks
    he is invisible to the revellers
       he is a man who cowers, recalling gunfire of a war he fought
         echoing through his mind in restless nights
           the incessant thumping of traumatic stress
 
he is invisible...a victim of post-Vietnam, Afghanistan and Iraq
    who once bore a uniform and served his country with pride 
       he is invisible suffering alone, paying the price 
         through severe disabilities and permanent scars
 
with sadness, he watches voters going to the polls
    he is invisible, a veteran with no voice in elections
        he is a man who cannot vote without an “address”
           a placard on a pavement might catch the eye
   
unemployed, homeless, unseen
    but most of all forgotten
       he is a man who seems invisible
          but he is still a man


-------------------------------------------------------------
This is co-written by Paul Callus & Carolyn Devonshire
in remembrance of our war veterans.

[Published @ Muse to Move (A.P.F. Publisher UK 2017]

9 11

America the Free  ~             America the Brave ~
                           Freedom with price              Capitalism attacked
                            the many taken                   hearts broken still
                              one World                           try to rebuild
                            sadness and tears               fall hard with fears  
                            guilt by association             many accused still
                             souls evaporated                shattered dreams 
                            tears fall on innocence          left with anger 
                             The proud fearless             knew the inevitable
                              policeman fireman             many lives lost
                            grieving does not stop           12 years later    
                               New York city once          proud  & shameless 
                             refusing to let fears in          protecting ours 
                                left in shock still              question's unanswered                    
                               nothing learned                     nothing gained  
                                ready to attack                   many left behind
                              anger greets denial              anger meets rage 
                               unacceptable still                 refusing new love 
                            wanting days to rewind           let us go back in time 
                              acceptance  allowing           the victims leave in peace
                              the brave taken young           leaving us sadly old
                               haunting dreams                     lost spirits dwell
                               no answers to hate            never forgetting that day
                               Evil entered suddenly              unforgiving fate
                                entering our City                we stand with the fallen
                                 How to fix                            how do we Change 




           
            This can be read many different ways ~ This is a poem I am so proud to write ~

Poppies Red

November 11th is Remembrance Day in Canada 
(Veterans Day)
When I was in grade 7 or 8 (I don't exactly remember) we had 
 to write poetry for a Remembrance Day contest. I won and had to read this in front of our whole grammar school. I must of been 12 or 13. This was my first real poem!
I dedicate this here today to all the soldiers who fight or have fought for our rights and freedom.


In Flanders Field with poppies red,
there lies the secret of the dead.
Those blood coloured poppies
so red and so gay,
bring the whispering sound
of Remembrance Day.

Those true earnest men
who fought for their land,
now lay beneath the musky cool sand.

Alert and ready at dangers call,
prepared to fight they would not stall,
but march right on,
now some there lay,
In Flanders Field,
with poppies gay.


Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
1970
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Veteran's Day - 2015

Veteran’s Day - 2015


This day
	all flags
shed
	bloodied shadows
upon
	sacred soil
dotted
	with stilled crosses.

This day
parades
	weary soldiers

smile
	at the few who line the streets

march
	to familiar cadence

salute
	flag’s half mast history

weep
	as Taps resounds

across
	each generation’s tears.

This day
Peace
	will solemnly descend

upon those
	who kept her safe.



John G. Lawless
11/5/2015

Premium Member Veterans- -Day Out

Veterans Day Out..

"To all of us from America, and beyond.
We hold a connection that will forever bond.
The reflection Of Veterans Day, 
We'll march with gratitude on this one certain Holiday.
Prayers and thanks will be filled with solemn pride.
To the heroism of those who died.
We'll praise and honor every name and memory~
To all the men and women who fought throughout history.
In celebration we honor America's veterans for their patriotism, of willingness. 
For the love of our country,  they served and sacrificed with their best service."
Victory ~History~ A singed Treaty~ 11-11-1918 
Mends to an end of “the war to end all wars.” Welcoming 11-11-11   


Dedicated to Veterans throughout the world and History...
In Honor and memory of all Veterans... 

by;p.d.
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Some Thoughts For November

Another month of days has passed us by
We now prepare for cold November rains
For veterans our hearts will sadly sigh
With daylight savings time some sun we'll gain

The turkey will become our welcome guest
Our families and friends will visit soon
We'll realize how much we're truly blessed
And start to tire of constant Christmas tunes

But yet for some depression will set in
Because of poverty and loneliness
November is the time to call on them
To share the gift of hope and happiness

Thanksgiving Day we'll go to God in prayer
Remember those with nothing in despair.



       by Daniel Turner
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Veterans Are People

VETERANS ARE PEOPLE

I fought in the trenches of World War I
In the foxholes of World War II
I was in the Korean Conflict
And the rice paddies of Vietnam too

I've been to Afghanistan
Kuwait and Iraq
Spent long months away from home
I've been to hell and back

But the stars and stripes will forever wave
In honor of those who went to their grave
To ensure that America will always be
The home of the brave and the land of the free

The bells of freedom will continue to ring
All across the USA
And it can be said, without a doubt
Our veterans paved the way

24 August 2018

For the contest sponsored by July Morning
Form: Rhyme

Eyes of Blue

A people persecuted beyond imagination;
To help them he felt, was his obligation.
He joined the army in World War II;
Not knowing his hell would be Eyes of Blue.

When he reached Normandy, the beaches were red.
Crawling over his brothers who lay already dead.
To give this tyrant, this devil his due;
Not knowing his own demons, would be Eyes of Blue.

He rounded a building securing a town;
A young German soldier was just coming round.
He plunged his bayonet, the quicker of the two;
Killing the young soldier, with Eyes of Blue.

He knelt down beside him with tears in his eyes;
How long this moment would last, he did not realize.
He closed the eyes as he thought he should do;
Thinking never again to see those Eyes of Blue.

The victor over many in Germany and Japan;
It was always difficult taking life from a man.
None would haunt him, this he now knew;
As long as the soldier, with Eyes of Blue.

He died an old man, to heaven he went;
For this honorable soldier, mercy was sent.
First time since the war, so sad but true;
A peaceful sleep, not seeing Eyes of Blue.
Form: Rhyme

What Makes a Warrior

I cannot presume
To tell anyone
What a warrior is.

Nor do I claim
To embody any
Of his qualities.

All I offer here
Is a collection
Of impressions
Or meditations.

A warrior is
A state of being;
Armaments
Are mere props.

The only weapon
He might possess
Is implacable resolve
In the face of
Extreme adversity.

A warrior's language
Or internal dialogue
Has no allowance
For the phrase,
"I can't."

All the same,
He discriminates
Between causes 
That are just and
Those that are not.

He determines the
Character, as well as
The time and place
Of his battles, 
Investing himself utterly.

And he remains
Ever prepared
For those who would
Bring their battles 
To him.

Yet a warrior meets life
On its own terms
With no delusions
Of bending it
To his own will.

Self-pity is a 
Useless indulgence,
Yet he has compassion
For the weak; he never
Places himself above
Others, for how can he?

All this being said,
And human nature
Being what it is,
His greatest enemy
May yet be none other
Than himself.

Premium Member I Was a Soldier

I was a soldier of the past 
And I know im not the last
I signed up to serve my Queen
Far off lands I have seen

As that soldier I done my best
Losing friends laying them to rest
We fought for what was only right
Giving freedom to others at night

As bullets flew and bombs exploded
 My thoughts and mind just imploded
I could not say I wasn't scared
But my vision was not impaired

The smell of cordite all around
Waiting for the alarm to sound 
Then the order of stand fast
Hoping this attack would not last

They come at us with all they have
Rpgs and a Gustav 
We hold firm and do not falter
It's not our turn at the alter

Be brave young man I have to shout 
As the young man does scream out
I've been hit this is bad
I wish I was with my mum and dad

It's ok you will be fine
It's a promise that is mine
The bombardment ends and we look up
Let's sort this out my young pup

Gingerly we give first aid
That is why we get paid 
We stretcher him out to the heli pad
In a few days he's  with mum and dad

After a while I go to see
That young soldier who layed before me
He's up and about and full of cheer
Winks at me we go for a beer

For those guys that didn't survive 
We raise a glass cuddle and cry 
For all the new guys on your career
Wish you well I got your ear.
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Remember

That time of year has come again
When we reflect and remember them
Polish our boots and press our kit
Remember those fallen that didn't make it

We shine our medals 
Place them on our chest 
Remember our friends 
We have laid to rest 

Remember those that went before
Those that were lost in another war
People think it's for soldiers old
Now it's time for them to be told

Rightly so we should do it with pride
Mark of respect for them that died 
Show the world they didn't die in vain 
For there families I feel the pain 

They fought for our freedom of speech
And died on a foreign beach
Yes I'm talking about Dunkirk 
And you may think I'm beserk 

Without these acts of soldiers past
Would we be here and talk so fast
So on this day in mid November 
I ask you all to sit and remember 

The 11th hour on the 11th day
Shall be known as armistice day
When  we wear a flanders poppy
And some of us may get soppy

It is good to let the tears flow
It shows gratitude to those that know
So as you see me March past
I was a soldier and not the last

There are veterans in there early twenties
Who stand tall and tears are plenty 
Bravery and courage may appear less
No whistle blows but I digress

The point of this is to say 
If only war would go away
These men and women have survived
Some of them burning up inside

So remember the fallen that is right
Bear a thought for servicemen tonight
And all those veterans on parade 
Bow your head as  they have stayed

R.I.P all personell who have passed 

CARPE DIEM

Song of a Warrior's Bride

Song of a Warrior’s Bride

He counts on me for beauty:
His eyes blurred by bloody spurts of war,
Scarred by deadly blasts of bone
And tissue, his vision marred
By chunks of men that shook him down
Into the oozing mud of sorrow,
And unscrewed the sockets of his soul, 
Blasting windows that once shone luminous,
Into dark pools of madness, mocking 
The watch he had to keep that night. 
 
He stopped his ears against
The final cries of men turned babes,
Moaning for mama or a medic,
Gasping for a hand upon their head,
As prayers and curses were sucked
From bodies by the piercing blows
Of guns, while rockets puked
Hellish flames that blotted 
Out the stars, until darkness
Swelled into a symphony of pain,
And his heart choked with agonies 
He could not stop to heal.

I have learned to fasten his gaze
With the soft gauze of understanding, 
A fabric thrown across the room,
Rich with memories between us,
Like rose petals sweetening the air.
I can still delight his eyes and lure him
From the tangled jungle pits he digs
And show him patterns of new mercies,
That reveals the hidden weaver of our days,
The keeper of our steps upon this turf					
Of life, turned gentler now.

I drape and wrap, twist and thread
My warless arms around him,
Still fingering the loom of prayer.
Murmuring vows over his embattled brow,
I draw him underneath our tent, pitched 
In the heat of hard fought love.

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