Long Fourth of july Poems
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Somewhere there is a system
If one decides to study and listen
Finding global position
To finish its mission
Here we go shooting for the moon
Showing the kids lovely cartoons
And teaching them of a big blue marble
Such a life full of marvel
Then later in the day
There are sports all over the world they say
Using a satellite link
This is great the post-Vietnam innocent does think
For into space
Visual communication technology builds its case
Now in the two thousands
Mostly climbed this planet’s mountains
It is the darkness that has us eager to explore
Trying to open a mysterious door
This is how it goes
Being a super power you know
We are the best
From all the rest
Having beauty and brains
In our arsenal of gains
And paths to peacefully complain
But there seems to be something wrong
With our patriotic song
Did we over play our moralistic hand?
Helping others take a stand?
Or was it the fantasy we love to boast
Celebrating modernization coast to coast
On this Fourth of July
When we recount separation from King George’s lies
Let’s rehabilitate the red, white and blue patient
And make it a healthy nation
First prescription is respect and trust
Second would understand others without a fuss
If we can handle that
Not acting like spoiled brats
Our goals may come alive
Returning to the energy that is giving the best try
While exhibiting the all American rally cry
America is a free land
Where citizens work smart and hard,
An excellent place for a band.
Everyone kind and full of heart.
So nice to have a flat, green yard.
Americans work with their hands.
A safe country for which they guard,
America the fast, free land!
Be sure to lend a helping hand.
It's not hard to send a greeting car
When Fourth of July feasts command.
Thriving citizens who work so hard!
For two-five-oh years, off the charts!
The territory rolls so grand!
All of our music playing's starred.
An excellent place for a band!
The stars and stripes make a grandstand
With yummy barbecue grills charred.
And beaches from host to coast sand.
Everyone so kind and full of heart!
I would never try to discard
The honest values of the heartland
That we hold in lofty regard
In this grainland with its store-brand.
America is a freakin' free land!
I wake to choices, mine to make,
No predetermined path to walk,
No scripted lines I have to talk.
This Fourth of July I celebrate
Not just a nation's founding date,
But my own revolution won
The day I chose to be someone
The neighbors whisper, "Strange," they say,
"Why live so differently this way?"
But their approval never fed
The hunger growing in my head.
My heartbeat sets the only pace,
My dreams determine every space,
Where independence isn't just
A word—it's oxygen and trust.
Some nights the freedom feels too wide,
Some days I question what I've tried,
But then I breathe my own sweet air
And know I'm finally living where
This is my declaration loud:
I've broken free from every crowd,
These walls are mine, this life is real,
And no one else can make me kneel.
Walking in the woods on a summers day
I ran across the savvy mushroom king
The old tight-wad geezer wanted to play
I played him checkers and a little chess.
The king was pretty good, I must confess.
Same time next week I asked the little guy?
Leaving, he said. How ‘bout fourth of July?
We made a little date, the mushroom king and I.
I would bring purple sparklers and fire crackers,
He promised lemon meringue faerie homemade pie.
I dreamed of lemon pie for nights and nights on end.
Glad to have a mushroom king for a new best friend.
We met on the fourth, and I gave a disappointed sigh.
I had the fireworks, but guess who forgot to bring the pie?
I couldn’t tell if it was day or night
something magnificent was happening in the sky
it was bigger than my eyes could behold
It was larger than my heart could contain
it wasn’t the fourth of July fireworks display
or Big Ben anniversary held at the river Thames
it was a natural phenomenon birth out of the sea
lighting up the sky for me and you to see,
it was a piece of history connected to the deity.
Sunlight at midnight twirling around
moving from east to west, and north to south
dressing in its Sunday best
and a sudden glow surrounds me
and covers me; it makes my spirit burn
and lit up the entire world
I have waited for this day to come
when women and men would hold court
on the shore and untie the burden that bound
them to the sea, man and woman will
live separate lives and untangle the chord
That bound them to the yard
the priest will deliver the ceremony
and in second they will be free
there will be no more war between them
and the woman will have power over the bed
Sunrise at midnight stretches across the sea
covering the planet with heavenly sweat
its beam stretches over the horizon
touching the ocean with aged old mysteries
sunrise at midnight sings sweet melodies from
a distance and everyone join in the uncommon rhythm
and started to sing, the sun and the moon merge
and dancing begins on the ocean floor
and the people obey its will.
Sunrise at Midnight ends nature’s fight
A Soilders Sacrifice
Freedom for our country does not come for free
Each individual soilder gave his all for you and me
Leaving all behind, not knowing if our soilder would come home
Many family members sitting by the phones
Some soilders came back and his eyes wonder in space
We want to embrace them and the memories erase
God bless the soilders that did not return
The whole nation with your families forever mourns
The sacrifices that were made, soilders have to be tough
Our nation could never thank you enough
The soilder will always be a soilder within
Would not even think twice about it, would serve again
Yes, freedom for our country does not come for free
Each individual soilder gave his all for you and me
Fourth Of July poem
June 22, 2012
So many balloons I can spy -
colorful air-ships above me.
This happens each Fourth of July-
a sight all the valley can see.
How glorious is this dreamscape.
So many balloons I can spy
making me wish to escape
and float with them up to the sky.
I’d want to go higher than high,
ride clouds, and gaze down like the birds.
So many balloons I can spy
so lovely that I have no words.
In morning’s bright light how they gleam.
In a hot-air balloon may I fly?
With feet bound to ground, I but dream.
So many balloons I can spy.
Feb. 8, 2023
for the Balloons Poetry Contest of Anthony Biaanco
NUTTY
We were in Paso Robles during the fourth of July
week-end strolling in the streets, after our sumptuous
lunch, where this vintage store caught our attention.
My ten year old grandson picked a pack of bubble gum
cigarettes and my grandchildren and I settled at the
outside bench, just sitting and people watching.
He peeled one of the sticks and started chewing.
He offered me one and somehow I got this idea of
showing him how to smoke a stick and asked my
daughter to take a picture of him and me smoking.
I texted the picture to relatives with a note “bad
influence, smoking cigarette candies ha-ha-ha”.
Did not stop there, I stood up and gave my daughter
one and asked Ricky to take a picture of his Mom and
me smoking like two street girls and I texted our picture
to my friends with a note “SMOKING HOT CHICKS”.
I got back texts of “silly grandma or bad grandma ha-ha”
and some of my friends texted back with “cute” and
one with “nutty girl ha-ha-ha” that made me laughed.
What a silly idea of a sixty nine year old grandma to
show his grandson how to smoke and a Mom to let
her daughter smoke with her for fun and take pictures.
My daughter and I do not smoke and I would never
dare do what I did with real cigarettes, honestly.
Somehow, I always come up with something fun, silly,
nutty to enjoy moments of togetherness and remember
them with such delight. I love being nutty, its fun.
Was called “crazy woman”, “nutty girl” sounds better.
9/19/21 "N" Poems, New Or Old Poetry
Constance La France
#6 - Nutty
This brief, urgent letter goes to that soldier with a heavy, lonely heart
whose eyes know no daily or nightly rest,
and his loyal soul cannot scream or protest;
he needs sleep, put his fear away and lay that helmet down for a night.
On the Fourth of July, together with his wife and children
he celebrated the heroes that made America great;
tonight, looking back he sees a sad and defeated Glen...
and without Liz and kids, his evening sky has no sunset.
Read my letter, Glen and hold back those tears:
everybody is doing fine, but terribly are missing their tall, handsome hero;
Carol wrote a long poem about jelly beans...
the ones you ate together on the stoop with sun-tanned faces so mellow.
Wednesday will be a very sad day looking at the summer's stars,
the same you saw shine in your native Portland...
imagining that they are fireworks evoking smiles of loved ones;
how can a righteous man not cry on bloody sand?
Then, cry Glen and cleanse the horrible guilt off your terrified soul
for having killed the enemy who had posed a dubious threat;
comforting you with a letter is my token of appreciation for being alert,
never letting deserting thoughts overwhelm you and make you fall.
We used to celebrate the fourth of July with our cousins.
Barbecuing food, and attending the parade up town on the square.
Sometimes we decorated our bikes with streamers and rode in the parade.
My cousin’s cousin was in the parade, as a queen once; that was nice.
Our families got along well, and my Daddy liked being with his brother.
We kids would go back up town in the afternoon to attend the carnival.
Sometimes our Daddies would be there too trying to win teddy bears.
But our mothers usually stayed home to do something else.
I have fond memories of dressing like my cousin on the 4th of July.
I always dressed like my identical twin, but dressing like Lou was special.
Her little brother Jerry and my little brother Richard were much younger.
Nice they had someone to sit with during the fireworks at nine p.m.