Long Airmen Poems
Long Airmen Poems. Below are the most popular long Airmen by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Airmen poems by poem length and keyword.
Yes there are
The teacher who cares
The fireman who dares
The police who simply just do
The nurse who won't tire for you
Yes there are
The vet who burns the night light
The doctor who makes it right
The carer who's word is more than alright
The volunteer who won't quit
The social worker who'll make sure
The friend who'll stand by you
Yes there are
The soldiers who'll protect
The sailors who'll defend
The airmen who will not quit
when they're in the thick of it
Yes there are
Good people in our lives
Good people with no disguise
Good people who we should all praise
To all the good people out there
I salute you because you really care.
(N.A.A.F.I. = universal store, found on
every British military base)
On some bleak airfield on some Cambridge fen
(that awful winter - 'forty-seven, I think)
my mother, novice servicewoman then,
crossed parade-ground like a skating rink
to see the Christmas concert on the camp.
Inside, the quonset hut was black as ink
till airmen lit a feeble spirit lamp.
The snow was driving against one outer wall:
she calls to mind a smell of tents and damp
and stinging fingers, fresh from thrown snowballs,
and gouts of steam, blown out in cloudy spurts
as people laughed. Then lights dimmed in the hall.
She now recalls a curious stab of hurt
to see the Italian janitor of the base
revealed onstage in P.O.W. shirt
when curtains opened. What had been a place
of uproar, now - faced by this threadbare clown -
had undergone some dreadful loss of face.
In dubbin make-up, N.A.A.F.I. dressing-gown,
as solemn as a high priest at the altar,
this patched-up Pagliacci, ear-flaps down,
sang ludicrously well. The keyboard faltered,
and stopped. The singer, weeping now, kept on,
quite heedless, as his clown's nose dripped tear-water.
There's something sacred in the humblest song
(with wretchedness wrought into lasting good
through alchemy of art) and, all along,
the watchers, to their horror, understood.
He sang so gorgeously of going home
because he knew full well he never would.
Brave men brought together
To fly the bombers
To hamper the power
Enlistment their will
To serve the free
All humble men
As history will see
Hearts shaking
On this white knuckle ride
Hero's them all
Side by side
Outbound flights
Planes lost
Their families and friends
Count the cost
Target reached
Heavy flak
How many of them
Will make it back
They turn for home
Chased by the Hun
Machine guns ripping
Flesh so young
Wounded they slump
Bullet ridden
Bloodied bodies
Sodden
The coast of England up ahead
Welcomes the live
And will remember the dead
Distant engines
The airfield hears
Crippled planes
Grow near and near
Families gather as they fly over
Did their loved ones
Pass the cliffs of Dover
Ambulance, tenders
Race to the scene
Pieces of man
Their life no longer a dream
Carried in care
Blanketed shroud
Dads and sons
Did their country proud
The airmen who walked out
Turned and looked to the sky
This mission by men
As they wonder why
Pain and suffering
For the right to be free
As the future has thanked
As we look back and see.
Dedicated to all who served, to allow us to write and read.
We can fire our words, but they will never make us bleed.
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-2.php
God forbid i ever tell on my friends
God forbid I ever betray my country men
As aesthetic as the gas-mask
Dressed for work, dressed for success
As alien embryos thrive inside glass tubes
101 psychological tactics classified welcome to that classroom
The instructor he's fantastic as unstable as a bait cast
Watch for the hook watch for the backlash
The words clandestine written across the chalkboard
He say's Underline the the two words Cherry Terror, The Masters
A hand raises and he looks right past him
As he has flashbacks of the cold war the whole classroom
Ask him in unity why did they outlaw Shock and Awe
He draws a diagram of the food chain and says life is a cycle
HE ASK THE QUESTION WHAT'S THE 5 BASIC NEEDS TO SUSTAIN HUMAN LIFE?
FOOD , WATER, SHELTER, CLOTHING
DON'T FORGET THE LOVE YOUR MOTHER FAILED TO SHOW YOU]
He hit the nailed on the head repercussions from cowardly acts
And now I wonder why my brother's still missing in action
They camouflage sexual harassment
But in this classroom they call it forced rape
Go back in time, Go back to the Air Forces
Tell me how an alien killed three Airmen
I guess they die the same way i kill em back with my bare-hands
World wars 1 and 2
The wars to end all wars
But for some, they couldn't fight for the country
Because of the color of their skin
They weren't wanted
Even though they could enlist
Segregation ran rampant
Treated like second class citizens
Not afforded the respect of soldiers
Or as men
Eugene Bullard
A pilot, not a just a ***** pilot
Not wanted by his country, he flew for France
Nicknamed "Black Swallow of Death"
He did for them what he couldn't do for us
Fight for a country
The Tuskegee Airman
The 99th pursuit squadron
First African American unit deployed
The best and the brightest
The red tailed angels
Spit Fire!
The 369th Harlem Hellfighters
Racism at its worst, Blacks wanted to fight
But turned away
But as with the Airmen
They too proved their courage under fire
The 761st Tank battalion
Patton's panthers
"Don't let your people down
Hell, don't let me down"
The point of the spear
Sgt Ruben Rogers, Medal of Honor
Fighting the war on 2 fronts
On the battlefield
And at home
No matter what was done
They still weren't wanted
(c)kingpen2021
Patriots are called upon to serve this nation in so many ways;
Soldiers, sailors, airmen, marines, each deserving praise.
Yet, there is a group who seldom get the praise they deserve;
They are the spouses, kids and parents, for they also serve.
Tho' they don't wear a uniform or hear the battles' din,
Their love and faith ever sustain their precious next-of-kin.
Until that special one returns, family life they must preserve,
For in this vital quest, these valiant heroes also serve.
They take seriously the kinship with their patriots in arms,
Praying for their safety and protection from all harms.
They're proud of the troops who our precious freedoms preserve.
Families are a vital part of the team, for they also serve.
Tho' the separations are painful and doleful tears are shed,
They face with determination the challenges that lie ahead,
And from their pride and devotion they will never swerve,
These loyal, loving families, they who also serve.
Tho' warriors are honored with medals placed upon their breasts,
And promotions are bestowed as reward for righteous quests,
Alas, honors aren't conferred upon families who with steadfast nerve,
Remain at home to guard and guide, they who also serve.
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Written By: D. Collins 7/7/25
I know the names of some of the greatest to ever dawn black skin.
Dr. Charles Drew, Miles Davis, Malcolm X, and James Baldwin.
Generations from now their achievements will be overlooked.
Due to coordinated efforts to remove them from history books.
There were the Buffalo Soldiers and Tuskegee Airmen.
Maya Angelou and descriptive writings of Toni Morrison.
We had Dr. Martin Luther King and Muhammad Ali.
Who gave hope to a population of people like me.
We've endured the longest deprivation mankind has faced.
You cannot remove something that refuses to be erased.
We've heard broken promises that never came about.
The Caged Bird Still Sings loudly from the top of the mount.
Holding on to my Nan’s hand, we walked around the lake
The snow was deep all around and there were kids tying on skates
My Nan squeezed my hand and we set off to the little wooden café
Smoke was spiraling out of the stove pipe stack and to my surprise we went in
There was no money but my Nan told me she was buying me a treat
“You always miss out on the treats when everyone is around
Treats to them are sweets and you don’t like them and I understand that.”
The treat she had for me alone was a cup of hot milky Horlicks and a scone
A scone with no jam, and an unsugared drink. We watched the kids play
We sat watching the snow fall and she told me that ten American airmen had died there
Just where the children were playing, she had seen the crash happen
When life got her down a bit she would walk to the lake and buy a cup of tea
She had watched the oak trees that were planted as a memorial to the men grow
She knew that those men would have given anything to be where she was now
Short of money but with her granddaughter enjoying time together.
She smiled and squeezed my hand across the table.
My Nan taught me such a lot.
© 7/12/2012
Entry For ‘Fond Memories’ Contest sponsored By C Cornish
Land of the free
Home of the slaves
The blood, sweat and tears of my ancestors resonate
Amongst the soil where they were slain
I’m hearing their struggle
I’m feeling their pain
I can’t imagine being forced to part from my family
All for massa’s gain
So I pay homage to those who promoted change
People like every slave who tried to escape
Nat Turner, Ms Carlotta, Harriet Tubman
And the safe houses who were in accord
And peg leg Joe with his song
Follow the drinking gourd.
People like, the disregarded - those thrown overboard
And who was dismissed and defamed
The ones who were stripped of their soul, their pride, their names
The list could go on
The full will never be told
So I pay homage to others who were bold
Like John Brown, The Freedom Riders, Sojourner Truth
Ida B Wells, Phyllis Wheatley, Maya Angelou,
Langston Hughes and Charles Drew
George Washington Carver, Ruby Bridges
Booker T Washington and Mary McCleod Bethune
Charles Houston, Ralph Bunche, Fredrick Douglass
WEB Dubois, Paul Robeson, Ralph Abernathy
Benjamin Banneker, Marcus Garvey and Crispus Attucks
Who’s death by the way
Symbolized the American lie
You cant declare the rights of all men
While the people of African decent rights get denied
But still we rise
Thanks to Dr Martin Luther King, Malcolm X,
The Black Panthers, the Buffalo Soldiers and Tuskegee Airmen
None who were showed any love
Yeah it’s an uphill battle,
But obviously greatness can be done.
We can rise above this stigma
That blacks are lazy and daunting
That our worth is null and void
And in essence minus nothing
And of all the names mentioned
And the greatness of their successes
No one has been able to erase the evil transgressions of a racist mind
And once you have experienced just a taste of it
It changes your perception of time
The oppression beats like the drum on the chariot
Of when it was finally time to escape to freedom
It's mine
On some bleak airfield on some Cambridge fen
(that awful winter – 'forty-seven, I think)
my mother, novice servicewoman then,
crossed parade-ground like a skating rink
to see the Christmas concert on the camp.
Inside, the nissen hut was black as ink
till airmen lit a feeble spirit lamp.
The snow was driving against one outer wall:
she calls to mind a smell of tents and damp
and stinging fingers, fresh from snowballs,
and gouts of steam, blown out in cloudy spurts
as people laughed. Then lights dimmed in the hall.
She now recalls a curious stab of hurt
to see the Italian janitor of the base
revealed onstage in P.O.W. shirt
when curtains opened. What had been a place
of uproar, now – faced by this threadbare clown –
had undergone some dreadful loss of face.
In dubbin make-up, N.A.A.F.I. dressing-gown,
as solemn as a high priest at the altar,
this patched-up Pagliacci, ear-flaps down,
sang ludicrously well. The keyboard faltered,
and stopped. The singer, weeping now, kept on,
quite heedless, as his clown's nose dripped tear-water.
There's something sacred in the humblest song
(with wretchedness wrought into lasting good
through alchemy of art) and, all along,
the watchers, to their horror, understood.
He sang so gorgeously of going home
because he knew full well he never would.