Best Warson Poems
My old daddy use to tell me about the war he had to fight,
He said don’t believe those movies, cause killing ain’t no pretty sight.
He said no one is born a hero you just fight to stay alive,
Cause when those bullets start to flying your only thought is to survive.
No matter what people may say, freedom it don’t come free,
And I pray you never see the things that I had to see.
And he said son the taste of freedom is a taste worth dieing for,
And that should be the only reason to ever fight in those damned old wars.
He talked about his comrades, so many now are gone,
He said I am a lucky one to see my son full grown.
So many young men back then were buried where they fell,
You see son war is not a game it’s a living, breathing hell.
You’re fighting for what you know is right and they are fighting for what they believe,
While mothers on both sides just pray and weep and grieve.
And when they get that letter that says their son will not return,
They say one last prayer for others, Lord will they ever learn.
To say you really hate someone is a truly ruthless thought,
But there are those that feel that way and why these wars are fought.
Son he said I don’t think there will ever be peace as long as men exists,
Freedom is our gift and we must protect no matter how much they persist.
G………God
B…………Bless
A……………America
I took my four year old one time to a July fourth parade
We found a place that offered us a little bit of shade
Sitting there close by to us was a white haired older man
His eyes were fixed on something as the parading soon began
My son was fascinated by the old man’s intense stare
And soon we saw he was looking at the flag waving in the air
It was the first thing passing by us as the parade began to start
And the old man struggled to his feet with his cap across his heart
As we stood next to this gentleman my young son asked me why
The older man was shaking and had a tear forming in his eye
Once we all were seated and the parade went on its way
We spoke with the older gentleman and proudly did he say
That he had served in the Marine Corps during World War Two
And he was very proud he’d served the red, white, and the blue
He said he’d lost his brother and his very dearest friend
But it had been an honor to have this country to defend
The older man then said he’d lost his son in Vietnam
And he said I couldn’t tell you just how proud of him I am
I hope that some will think about the sacrifice he made
So that we can all be here to watch this beautiful parade
The old man then put his hand on my son’s tiny head
And he gently ruffled up his hair as quietly he said
My son’s name was James but we always called him Jim
And seeing you here with your Dad it makes me think of him
My son sat very quietly moving next to the old chap
And reached into the bag we’d brought to get his baseball cap
He put the cap upon his head as we watched a marching band
And slowly he reached up and took the old man by the hand
Soon another flag passed by and I was quick to realize
The old man wasn’t the only one with a tear forming in his eyes
My own eyes started misting as I stood there most impressed
As my son stood with a proud marine with his cap across his chest
"I regret to inform you" the dreaded telegram began,
"That your son is missing in action" and on it sadly ran.
It was in the spring of '43 when it was delivered to her door.
Her son Charles was a flight engineer on a "B" Twenty Four.
"Your brave son and his crew were last seen over Berlin."
Mother read the unwelcome news with a trembling chin.
Her faith gave her hope that she would see him once again,
Though chances of such a glorious reunion were growing rather thin.
"We will advise you if we learn of any further information."
She knelt to her knees and offered this earnest supplication:
"Father, you are the only One I can turn to in my desperation.
Lord, if he survived the crash, protect him is my expectation!"
Weeks later another telegram arrived and she opened it with dread.
"We are pleased to inform you that your son is a prisoner of war!" it read!
"Sources advise us that his crew survived and all are doing well!"
She praised God and asked Him to comfort him in his lonely cell!
The war ended and Charles was liberated to live another day!
The years sped on inexorably as they will and his Mother passed away.
Going through her things he discovered the telegrams wrinkled with age.
Tears welled in his eyes as he saw tear stains on each yellowed page.
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
She thought she’d be alone,
when her son went to war to defend his home,
but that day he returned from active duty,
as he knew he would,
she ran toward her son as fast as she could,
her breath coming in gasps,
from excitement as much as exertion,
years waiting,
while the war was debating,
she prayed for her son,
every night until her mind went numb,
the reports came,
the situation insane,
he was fighting in such hostility,
bombing this city, that city,
deep down, and miles away,
she could feel his pity,
but through all that razor-edged day,
God heard him pray,
and he returned home,
God wouldn’t have it any other way.
Young Cowboy On The Battlefield
Remembered His Mama’s Words
‘Just Make It Home, Son …’
Her Voice Echoed, As He Heard …
Rapid-Fire and Revolution
Missiles, Right and Left
Bomb-Blasts and Confusion
… and Silent Tears, He’s Wept
… Every Day, A Minefield
Every Night, A Raid
Every Moment, A Terror
Trying to Make Him Afraid …
Any Second, A Horror
Of A Buddy, Laid To Rest
Every New Tomorrow
Wondering, What’s Next ?
The Cowboy On The Battlefield
Vigilant and Brave
Stood Ramrod Tall and Terse …
Looking At Her Grave …
‘Just Make It Home, Son … ‘
… Echoed Thru His Brain
‘Just Make It Home, Son …’
… Echoed Thru The Rain
And Just Before She Was Laid To Rest
She Said, ‘Just Make It Home, Son …’
And With Those Last Words, She Blessed,
And Said, ‘I’ll Be Waiting, When You Come …’
* * * *
… Old Cowboy, On The Battlefield
Remembers His Mama’s Words
‘Just Make It Home, Son …
… and We’ll Celebrate Our Return …
Of Note: In The Words Of A Lady Rocker,
Pat Benatar: ‘Love Is A Battlefield’
(but I Say, 'Life Is A Battlefield'
Embedded in every aspect of life, blood.
Wrath rips souls to shreds for worldly causes.
Plentiful tears upon forever flood.
Returning an empty vessel, man, to ashes.
Blackened hearts manifest their loathing.
Brother competing with brother for greed.
Envy destroys the mind, with covetous lusting.
Worldly ways birth another bad seed.
Every aspect of breathing proceeds with caution.
Trust is lost in planes of angry strife.
Ambiance dreams in self-satisfaction.
Mankind enters adulthood flawed by life.
Odium thrives, falsly justified by differences.
Compassion too soon lost feeds fearful thinking.
Evil forces busily shuttle interferences.
Clawing, character against character, chafing.
But…there was a crucifixion.
God’ Son came to earth, a son of woman.
Resolved to cleanse hate’s affliction.
Justice serving forgiveness to every man-
Each eternal soul was bought by Jesus’ blood,
He washed sinful ways; set man’s pure goal.
God’s loving sent in everlasting flood.
Renewed, He embraces each righteous soul.
© February 19, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen
They stand together
Soldiers young and old
As we sit down beside them
Their stories unfold
Tell me son
What happened to you
Please take your time
I wish to hear you through
I was out on patrol
Looking for improvised devices
Their made of plastic now
For modern sacrifices
But this one was different
It was set on remote
Triggered at distance
As the enemy gloat
Catapulted, bleeding
As i land on the sand
My face lacerated
As are my hands
My left hand has gone
As are my eyes
My emotions are drained
I can no longer cry
I am flown home
To Edwards Air Base
Not the way i left
A new tomorrow i face
My brave young son
I shall cry for you
Yes tomorrow is new
But we will see it through
As he wipes his tears
His son says to his father
Tell me your story again
So my thoughts again gather
Well it was so long ago
And although i am old
The horrors of wars
Should always be told
It was the 6th of June
1944
The day the war had turned
And what we fought for
I was one of thousands
As we hit the beaches
Under heavy fire
Bodies bleeding, bodies bleached
After being pinned down for hours
We finally made a breakthrough
Their lines broken
Our determination pursued
Our objective, Bayeux
To cut off the road to Caen
Re-assemble and group
As we mean to go on
We were on the outskirts
As a 109E attacked
My platoon was strafed
As its bullets impact
I was hit three times
In my legs and chest
Shipped back home
Asking why i was blessed
After the war
In the Army i stayed
As an injury councillor
For other wars have been played
Father and son stood together
Hugged for tomorrow
Yes, there will be more wars
And what they bring is sorrow
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-6.php
Home is far, so far away
Dear country calls
Distant bases will be brimming
with men who rise, who march
who run, who fall for country
Blood is the price for peace
Peace is like the rain,
coming and going, and going and coming
When country calls, Son must part then
Goodbyes said, tears shed, and Son must part then
Her sunlight will be dimming, her laughter ending
like a song, like a dream
When country calls
Men will be bleeding on every front,
on every field where children once played,
Where life like flowers once thrived
Because country called
He left, he saw, he returns
Statue-still in a coffin wrapped in flag
Country and glory have become one
But a woman's heart is drowning in grief
Son, Son, O! Son
She sees only the coming coffin wrapped in flag
September 11th 2010 US invades IRAN...
DOES IT SOUND CRAZY? Are government is roge, Are you insane?
A run-away Train! with no where to go.
The fear mongers are spining america twords armageden.
Obama, the bastard SON of Bush prepairs the wagon.
"We know whats best"
"There inriching Uranium"
"they will BOMB the U.S."
"the axis of evil" they scream.
This evangelical dream
can this be are they so dumb
"if we kill all the Muslims Jesus will come"
Where ever he is, Jesus is crying
He looks down to see the son of man dieing.
Form:
My son is coming home today
he's been away so long
when he left here to go away
We knew that he was strong
He told us he was leaving soon
his girlfriend had to cry
the bus took him away at noon
and we just said goodbye
a military man so fine
so able and so tall
he's put into the firing line
not holding back at all
He sent a letter home one day
I don't remember when
his mother told me just last may
she got one more again
We got a letter monday last
from one who knew the score
My son was caught up in a blast
and he could serve no more
The plane came in, they set the chocks
they brought him in a bag
and now they've put him in a box
I get to keep the flag
My soul lies here in Arlington
My vessel 'neath grass green grow
My soul lies here in Arlington
Please let my family know.
Your son lies here in Arlington
You walk past him day by day
Your son lies here in Arlington
'Unknown Soldier' his stone doth say.
Her love lies here in Arlington
Her hopes must soar so high
Her love lies here in Arlington
Buried or not; he's in the sky.
His Dad lies here in Arlington
His eyes grow wet with tears
His Dad lies here in Arlington
This stone confirms his fears.
My soul lies here in Arlington
My vessel 'neath grass green grow
My soul lies here in Arlington
Please let my family know.
Form:
WHEN YOU WALK ON GREEN GRASS IN AMERICAN MY SON IS NOT,WHEN YOU GO TO WORK
EVERYDAY MY SON WORKING 24 HR A DAY, WHEN YOU GO TO SEE YOUR FAMILY MY SON IS
NOT SEEING HIS, WHEN YOU ARE FREE IN AMERICAN MY SON IS NOT, WHEN YOU LIVE
YOUR LIFE EVERYDAY MY SON WONDERING IF HE IS GOING TO LIVE, SEE MY SON IS A
MARINE FIGHTING FOR YOUR FREEDOM, THIS IS MY SON
Form:
As the young soldier returns home to family and friends,
From a war where he was needed, and he served honorably to protect and defend.
But the problem he now faces is embedded deep and it’s ripping at his soul,
As he meets family and friends he’s wishing he could just crawl back in his hole.
He had taken the life of a young boy that summer evening that was leading a goat,
He knew something was not right cause the young boy was wearing a heavy overcoat.
They had their perimeters set but the boy ignored the warning cries as he approached their site,
He pleaded with the boy to stop as he had him in his rifles sight.
He prayed to God and pulled the trigger and the boy exploded in the night,
And now he cannot close his eyes without reliving this horrible sight.
He had no choice had he not fired the boy could have killed his whole platoon,
What kind of people would sacrifice children, only lunatics and goons.
He wanted to tell his parents but the words just would not form,
As he hugged his mother and gently patted her arm.
And his dad looked at him and said son that’s a mighty heavy burden I see you’re a packing,
His dad could always read him like a book and knew his son had problems that needed tackling.
Dad placed his old arms around him and the young soldier sobbed with pent up grief,
He said son you’re going to be fine, just trust in God and let those tears bring you relief.
When you’re ready to tell the story you know I’ve always been your friend,
And I’ll always be there for you till the very end.
Form:
When I put my hand to the wall.
I can feel young soldiers as they fell.
I seem to be viewing hell
as only the soldier can see.
Knowing full well
that all I can be
is thankful;
because of them my land is
still free.
This grief attack
I’m fighting back
No small price to pay.
O God, bring my son back,
Even at the price of Liberty.
I need him here with me.
No, I don’t have a son in the war and I truly ask
God’s blessing on the families who do. No, one
can freely give a child up for any cause. How can
we blame or fault someone of the persuasion of my
poem. Gratis to all who believe it is God’s will
when sacrifice has to be made for the right cause.
CGH
© Apr 11 2010