I love the home of the free
I love the home of the brave
I love my freedom of speech
United States of America
18th April 1775 on the strong big-boned mare
'Brown Beauty' may have been her name
borrowed from John Larkin a very good horse
of Narragansett Pacer fame
a copper-bottomed silversmith
Son of Liberty Patriot and Boston-born
riding with Prescott and Dawes toward Lexington
then Concord minutemen in advance to warn
of the British Army's actions
was intercepted in Lincoln but doing his bit
the man had lanterns as the plan
and arranged to have a signal lit
in the Charlestown Old North Church
with one if by land two if by sea
but in those long-gone days
as it was unknown technology
right then and there
it was quite unlikely to see
three if by air
some say vestryman Pulling and sexton Newman
(not a deacon)
as the midnight rider never made it all the way
were the real heroes of the day in fact quite a beacon
By George P. Lumayag
A patriot digs and builds a castle underground like an ant.
A patriot reserves much food underground like an ant.
A patriot reads the minds of miners to protect the queen's castles.
A patriot poetically motivates the people to build a web of castles
to protect themselves from the fires of the dragons.
If the patriots do things right like ants,
they will be safe in the future.
Through day or night
I'll do what's right
And stand for what is just
I vow this sacred trust
For liberty
And all that's free
I'll fight on if I must
Till my bones are in the dust
We need a leader,
Patriot, not just any
Tom, Vic, and Harry.
A laughingstock of history …
America right now
Fifty years of turning left
leading further down
Words alone can’t fix it
so little time remains
Freedom anything but free
—with liberty in flames
(The New Room: December, 2023)
The year is ending by leaving us sad;
For all those who left us in our journey;
So let’s pray for their souls we can be glad;
Having left us, are under God’s mercy.
Those who are in this world may they live long;
prayers ever irrational answered;
Smiles, happiness, prosperity among
Other boons granted are, forever, yearned.
Let us prepare to welcome the new year;
With sincere thoughts first and actions honest;
Be eager to spread good news, do not hear
Or fuel rumours at others’ behest.
These are the signs of a patriot true;
Avoid anger if you cannot construe.
mbfarookh
'Sell out your country' is what they said,
As water kept dripping on his head.
Two days had passed since he went to bed.
'Sell out your country' is what they said.
Three days passed since he had been fed.
Denial of his Rights had not been read.
'Sell out your country' is what they said,
As water kept dripping on his head.
This many guys dislike its mention
Including an owner of mansion,
From avowed lover walking away
And next time block his coming their way…
For even the steadfast tax payer
Regular payment not his prayer;
One could swear there’s no Tax Payer Max
Who wouldn’t want the rules to relax!
As often as not tax evasion,
To depletion of wealth aversion...
What makes a citizen a patriot,
Long prattles about it like parrot;
‘Very proud’ the delivering voice
Though doubtful over it would rejoice…
In US a political risk,
Your rival handling the matter brisk
In Nigeria treated like God’s tithe,
Easily, payers like struck snakes writhe…
Tax payment states its own energy
“Mass non-payment nation’s elegy.”
Ade is a Nigerian patriot
But permanent in US’ Detroit,
There, charming Nigerian Flag hoisted,
Bared schemes upon him foisted…
Ade, The Rare Nigerian Patriot,
Scarcely planning to leave Sweet Detroit,
Shall unfailingly shoot all of them,
Giving his Giant. causeless problem:
Politicians who might risk Rigging
He’d begun their graves a-digging:
For them the cheapest US caskets,
A little costlier than Mum’s baskets;
Never to stubborn pressures relax
On compatriots evading Paid Tax…
To keep performing civic duties,
From where he had kept quaffing fruities.
Load your musket, patriot
Get out onto the street
Taste the blood that scars your land
Leave their bodies at your feet
They destroyed your home with violence
Robbed your children of their lore
Your leaders nothing but mere fools
As they glorify each whore
And now their minions quash your fate
Erase your culture with their hate
Left you naked to abdicate
So, lead the fight to free this land
From the heinous jackal's greed stained hand
Stand together as before
To slay these devils and their corps
written 2022.11.07
When I get the opportunity,
To travel
I choose my country.
It was here I was born.
My mum gave birth to me at home.
My ancestors walk on this land.
Build buildings with their bare hands.
As a child I played amongst the fauna and flora.
Learning to appreciate culture and diversity.
Growing up during the segregation laws.
But still we have Ubuntu in us.
There is so much beauty to see.
In spite all the negativities.
I am my country.
And my country is me.
the patriot
bends over
tenderly
without a sound
gathers in
the tattered
pieces
of Old Glory
Bent in the grand dance of the red poppies,
We let our courage rise from this seeded field,
We feed it with the truth of yesterday’s glories,
Our history, our sword, our shield.
Where slumber squeezes the lost dreams,
New hopes have born in us the faith again,
Awakened, our conscience cries and screams,
We walk barefooted, free in the rain.
The eternal wild of child and happiness,
Fresh grass, blue skies, no worries,
A little touch of tenderness,
We write with red our new stories.
Dreaming pure thoughts that change the world,
Caring and loving, praying and singing,
Living our life for our country and the Lord,
Whatever comes, in the end, we’re winning!
Little patriot's rhetos
If we don't see through,
Through the eyes of our fathers
And if we don't write
Write the stories of our mothers
Can we ever be better
Better than bustards
And if we hate those
Those Who fly with, our same features
Dorn in our same feathers
Won't it make much a difference
If we as a people,
If we embrace each other
And be the other's shoulders
Eloping away to foreign places
Places far Away in Westernlands
Proudly Abandoning your beloved
Your own beloved motherland
Building majestic palaces in thereto
Imagine a black palace in Switzerland
Can all our success stories
Can they all be written
Written in foreign places
What will be our legacies
Notorious runaways I guess!
That one I bet, I will bet on it forever
Will you be happy honestly
Will your ghost find peace
When Far away from its kind
Away from the cradle of its being
Let's build our own legacies
Write our own stories
Love our ownkind
And hate no one else
That way we will survive
Survive the harsh realities of derision
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