What do we hold on to, if hope decides to abandon us this fast?
Where is the faith, If within 24 hours it couldn't last?
How do we function, with our fragile hearts, aghast ?
Weren't these vibrant souls supposed to outlast?
The mind yearns for answers, from a million questions cast
The Nation mourns, with flags at half mast.
In the parking lot, I sat observing
The flag over the shopping mall
I noticed it flying at half-mast
A famous person, it sought to recall
The impact they had on society
Affected people, far and wide
Adored or rejected by the masses
Many in this person did confide
Few in society attain this status
So it's imperative to take note
When observing their credentials
Just what kept their name afloat
When Jesus died on the cross
Was this event really observed
Was it noted by multitudes
Did He get recognition, He deserved
Today, His banner should reign above
Rooftops in every nation
His sacrifice on Calvary's hill
Gives me solace in meditation
God grant that I may hoist a flag
And always make it known
He deserves ultimate recognition
None other could our sins atone !
Colan L Hiatt = 06-22-23
© All Rights Reserved
Old Glory’s at half-mast today.
I wonder who just passed away?
Was it a hero from some battles past?
A dead leader whose influence lasts?
Were servicemen killed overseas,
Or humanitarians died fighting a disease?
Seems most of the time I don’t know why
The Colors only at half-mast fly.
More and more it seems to be
The flag’s mourning some local tragedy:
A lunatic shooter with a gun or rifle
Killed innocents for some reprisal;
Or people contemplating suicides
Go out committing multiple homicides.
I think the worst is killing schoolchildren.
Will this obscene madness never end?!
Dedication to our fallen four Victoria Police....
The flags are at half mast
The flags are at half mask today
For four fine officers lost in duty’s say
In silence now we all stand
As grief for them and their families demand
At each muster we bow our heads
For these each one of our honoured dead
Rest now in peace a hero’s slumber
For you have joined our sacred number.
© Paul Warren Poetry
The flags at the National Police Memorial are at half mast for the four Victoria Police killed together in a road accident whilst doing their duty.
billowing storm clouds
darken the morning sky --
flag at half-mast
8/24/16
With a weak bladder had taken a chance
Ended up wetting in my precious pants
When over the side something is passed
Would you possibly do it at half mast.
I sure could tell from the very start
Half-mast was performed by bottom part
Sometimes may think you are a clown
And end up doing it all upside down.
Then on ship decided to have a mast
To see how many over side had passed
Certainly never a onesy but only a twosy
Because if a twosy it would be a dozy.
Can one count the pieces of a broken heart?
Can a flag half staff proudly wave?
Will kites still rise in staccato weather,
or partial freedom be less than a slave?
Explain this measure of a hearts half beat
wind that blows yet never reaches the trees
the disfigured countenance of a dreamers disgrace
how half body dreams cry imbalance in between
Tarnished stains of unpolished silver
flyblown details of a life unabridged
groping for a fortress forged by slivers
unfit by the stages between and betwixt
shifting weight from east to west
dodging shadows of intent and neglect
standing at the post where the middle never met
like a chromosome missing beholding whats left
Oh to be pregnant with hope
then giving birth to a portion revoked
How does one survive the division
of two halves opposing a whole
What brightness can a light once shining
affect through half of a soul?
and where is the joy in knowing
without two halves you'll never be whole?
A heart scattered in fractions
equations refusing an algorithms find
These are the conundrums which riddle
and the factors left baffling the span of time
Then there are those who have trod
Over God's great earth they love and laud
Climbed many mountains, over oceans sailed
And helped us when we would have failed.
In sun and still of morning God will meet
Us and Christ who made everything complete
Dying on cross while below was chatter
Are you sure all our sins He can shatter?
Will have true faith in Trinity forevermore
Those three agree with who we adore
Even though still sinful and often wrong
Soon will be in heaven where we belong.
No matter what we have been through
One day will be taken up with You
As we looked back and saw our past
Flags had been all hanging at half mast.
Send me a comment so I will know
Who on my poems have started to grow
Many more poems will write and compile
For everyone even on Man's lovely Isle.
A calling that must be obeyed--
bloodied and broken he lies,
the battlefield he makes his home,
fallen like a gladiator of Rome,
hearing his brother’s last cries--
with a bullet in his heart he dies.
Oh the artist he could have made,
even Picasso would he surpass--
a gentle brush stroke brings life,
instead he sleeps by his knife,
all the medals he would amass--
his bloody world of iron and brass.
There was music in his soul--
a prodigy like Mozart in his youth,
his name would live on for ages,
as his composition floods the pages--
then we ask what is really uncouth,
taking innocent lives or concealing the truth.
A more fortunate man digs a deep hole,
the last few pages of a journal revealed--
as Vienna in the time of Shakespeare,
he could never really find his place here--
death upon words that would have healed,
here lies the warrior poet in an open field.
Senseless destruction,
Fear in our hearts
Mindless confusion
A misplaced spark.
A toturous day
Under clouds of grey
Lives lost
Hearts now cold
A sense of urgency
Fears being told.
Questions arise
For which there is no answer
Lives torn apart
More in the hearafter.
More tears flow
The trail grows cold
Our minds numb
Our countries bold.
Flags at half mast
Stories to pass
From the young
To the old.
Courage emerges
Hope reappears
Heartbeats flutter
Even throught the tears.
An attack on a nation
A disgrace of humanity
Yet the people gather
Ready to face the humility.
The sums of our fears
Gives us the courage to regain
A glorious nation
Full of beauty under pain.
We shall become whole again
We shall not divide
Strength is in numbers
Days of terror left behind.