What do I know of dedication, of devotion
I who have not fought on land or over ocean
What can I recount of sacrifice
I who was raised in America, in paradise
What can I tell of bravery, of heroism
I who pen poetry and witticism
And yet I’ve engaged in mortal combat, my dears
~ Been married now for nigh on 50 years
The Ideals of Captain America
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
Contest Judged: 11/16/2025 9:43:00 AM
( 3rd Place )
Written: October 22, 2025
Courage is waking when the night won’t end…
walking into the day on tired feet.
It is the quiet choice to help someone
even when your own heart feels heavy.
It is speaking what is right
even if your voice trembles.
It is staying when everyone else leaves
holding hope in small, stubborn ways.
Courage wears no crown of glory.
It bleeds in the dirt beside the fallen,
it lifts the shield even when the arm grows weak,
it fights not for victory
but because it must.
Courage is not the hero in a story,
it is the hand you reach out to another,
the deep breath you draw,
the step you force yourself to take,
even when fear feels louder than hope.
It is the soft voice inside that says;
"one more step"
the stubborn heartbeat that refuses to yield -
the quiet rise after every fall,
even when no one is there to see you stand.
They think we are hopeless and hell-bound
This poem is for all those who are held down
Remember
Season's change
So don’t lose heart
Because the path to justice will surface
Humble heroism lives in you
The sparkle of truth will be proof that
The magnitude of perseverance
Will travel through the darkness!
Light cannot be lost
So keep going and
Remember that even though
The sun must set
Nothing can stop it from rising again!
They think we are hopeless and hell-bound
This poem is for all those who are held down
Mark Frank
Copyright 2023
Some do it for recognition;
Some do it without hesitation.
Anybody can serve,
one does not need to have power.
Sometimes, the rats even have more nerve
where the tigers cower.
Bitesize Poem no53 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier
He called your nation a 'fiction'
wishing you chaos and pain.
Like a savage grizzly intent on
your utter destruction.
He thought, so naively, that
you will buckle under his missiles' rain
triggering a new biblical exodus.
with a leader weak and tenuous
playing the NATO blame game,
harboring ambition of Soviet reclaim;
took his cues from Hitler's pincer attack,
backed by his convoy of artillery and tank;
hedging his bets on a Russian blitzkrieg
with little worries of his soldiers' fatigue.
Must watch Chaplin's Great Dictator
begging mercy from the creator.
You've now taught him a new word, Quagmire
familiar with his army's cold campfire.
his generals Know now the price of invading
a heroic nation praised the world over as outstanding;
your valor and sacrifice,
your blood and honor
turning history's dice.
Glory to Ukraine, to your
steadfastness and resolve,
to your triumph in this bloody brawl.
In the reign of lies,
speak verity, is an act
extreme heroism... !
a smog of vampyric fume
i walk into! with poison-darts
and with mana of fire as weapons
i penetrate the rugged soil of foe.
my longbow of the Scythians hangs on my back
and two mighty daggers
are steady in my belt as always.
the key and the lock rests in my separate hands;
separate like the sun and the moon!
Your wonderful presence
Lifting our eyes
From the mud of the field
To the freedom of skies.
In this turbulent world,
And I know it's been said;
There is beauty in nature,
Your petals so red.
For the blood of the fallen
We're reminded by you
That the bravest have fought
For the righteous and true
As I gaze to the future
My hope always shall be
That your wonderful presence
Keeps us peaceful and free.
Heroes and cowards share one thing in common.
Both Are Very Afraid.
Neither wants to do what needs to be done,
but the hero does it anyway.
For Those Thrust into War's Maw
by Michael R. Burch
This poem is dedicated to Harvey Stanbrough, an ex-marine who was nominated for the 1999 Pulitzer Prize and has written passionately and eloquently about the horror and absurdity of war in “Lessons for a Barren Population.”
No, I will never know
what you saw or what you felt,
thrust into the maw of Eternity,
watching the mortars nightly
greedily making their rounds,
hearing the soft damp hiss
of men’s souls like helium escaping
their collapsing torn bodies,
or lying alone, feeling the great roar
of your own heart.
But I know:
there is a bitter knowledge
of death I have not achieved,
and in thankful ignorance,
and especially for my son
and for all who benefit so easily
at so unthinkable a price,
I thank you.
Published by Romantics Quarterly, Poetic Reflections and Poetry Super Highway as "Privilege." Keywords/Tags: Vietnam War, marines, military, service, honor, duty, bravery, heroism, maw, mortars, rounds, souls, escaping, bodies, corpses, death, heart, roar, bitter, knowledge, thanks, thank you, war, violence, USA, military, courage, patriotic, hero
Flight 93
by Michael R. Burch
I held the switch in trembling fingers, asked
why existence felt so small, so purposeless,
like a minnow wriggling feebly in my grasp ...
vibrations of huge engines thrummed my arms
as, glistening with sweat, I nudged the switch
to OFF ... I heard the klaxon's shrill alarms
like vultures’ shriekings ... earthward, in a stall ...
we floated ... earthward ... wings outstretched, aghast
like Icarus ... as through the void we fell ...
till nothing was so beautiful, so blue ...
so vivid as that moment ... and I held
an image of your face, and dreamed I flew
into your arms. The earth rushed up. I knew
such comfort, in that moment, loving you.
Published by The Lyric, The Eclectic Muse, Poetry Super Highway, Poetically Speaking, Poetic Ponderings, Poetry Exchange, Poetic Reflections, Dark Chamber, Poetry Loft, Papercheck, My Beautiful New York, Poetry Life & Times, Famous Poets and Poems, Inspirational Stories, Fullosia Press, 9-11 Heroes
Cowardice and Heroism,
both share one thing in common.
The coward and the hero are both very much afraid.
Neither wants to do what needs to be done,
but the hero just happens to do it anyway.
Intrepid damsel,
a heroine unsung.
A willing martyr
with courage
unrivalled.
Unransomed captive
with a ransom
infinite.
She gladly faces
death with eternity
in view.
Like her lover before her,
she chooses to be
a sacrificial lamb
to the slaughter.
Leah Sharibu,
the heroine unsung.
She that chooses to mortify
her passions
for timeless paradise.
Hardly daunted by
Kalashnikovs and
thunderous explosives,
she inherits a world
deemed abstract by
unfaithful adherents.
They asked the old soldier to talk about his heroism…
explain that medal on his chest.
“It wasn’t that I was brave.” he said,
“just a little less frightened than the rest.”
There is no heroism in war
no glory in its glorification
nor beauty in its brutality.
There are no heroes in war
only soldiers entrenched
in bonded brotherhood.
There is only life and death
amid the screams of
living and dying
8/12/2017
submitted to – JPContest 6 – WAR AND HEROISM – Poetry Contest
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