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Best Poems Written by David Moore

Below are the all-time best David Moore poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | David Moore Poem

Brave American Knight

Driving home one day after hours of monotonous office work,
Saw a man sitting by the road; looked as one down on his luck.
Paid small notice to the figure; my lonely life was in a rut.
He was just another beggar, holding out a shiny tin cup.

But something was rather uncharacteristic about this scene.
His old camouflaged fatigues were those of a U.S. marine, 
No legs dangled from his wheelchair, but he sat tall, proud, and upright.
Many ribbons bore evidence of America’s finest knight.

Walked up to the stranger; what was left of a man sitting there. 
No others near, just us two, and the pall of pathos in the air.
His hair unkempt, a shaggy beard, he stared as each car would stop, 
Lest he miss a coin or, pray, a bill into his cup one might drop. 

In horror saw that the cup was held by an artificial hand.
An ear had been severed; thumb on other hand, one eye was blind. 
He acknowledged my presence, tipped his military cap.
 As he did, I observed scars occupied most of his scape. 

Asked how life brought him to this intersection on life’s highway. 
From boot camp was deployed to “play in the sand” in land over there. 
“Sir”, he said, “From high school my great desire was to serve my country. 
Fighting with my buddies one night, my jeep hit unseen I E D.”  



“In flames and smoke I fought to breathe; felt that my life was slipping on.
Could barely hear, could scarcely see, and knew that my right arm was gone. 
My head was bleeding profusely; could not feel my legs or left hand.  
I begged God to let me die on the sands of Afghanistan.” 

The corpsman came with tears rolling down his face and with choking voice,
 “Soldier, it’s your legs, I must amputate, I have no other choice. 
There are other injuries, got to rush; choppers are on our right,
You hang in there, Marine; I salute you, brave American knight. “

The more he spoke, the colder the chills that ran up and down my spine.
Thoughtlessness and selfishness exposed a depravity of mind.
Self-pity, self-indulgence, resignation had poisoned my soul.
Changed by man with no legs; stands ten feet tall, on my honor roll.

Perhaps next time a soldier we meet at the mall or on the street,
Honor and salute those who served, even died, that we may live free,
Army, Air Force, Coast Guard, Navy or Marine, guards of freedom’s light.
Grateful for those who wore the uniform, brave American knights.

Details | David Moore Poem

The Coming Storm

Very strong message taking form,
Coming like a violent storm,
Warning of nation’s moral low,
Unaware of approaching foe.

Ignorant! How this world beguiles!
Blind to the culture’s subtle changes,
Dull to enemy’s evil wiles,
Naïve on immoral binges.

Stressed out by malignant ills.
Misguided by bureaucrat vow.
Duped by sharp marketing skills.
Depending on NASDAQ or the Dow.

Wake up, see the coming dark storm,
In midst of silver lining.
Judgment framed by hope’s reform.
Urgent need for land’s refining.

Details | David Moore Poem

Nation's Damnable Blight

Nation’s Damnable Blight

Black slender man, bent twig on the branch of a slave’s family tree,  
Planted in white culture during infamous time of our history, 
From seed transported in the belly of those infernal slave ships.
Bitter tears flowing from his eyes; angry words pouring from his lips. 

Spent by long days in fields under hot skies of one hundred degrees,
Living in substandard shacks: wife and babes bearing winter’s freeze.
Broken panes breach for frigid wind; shabby roofs sieve for cold raindrops,
Family worked from sun up to dark to reap the precious crop.
                    
Truth is, most were prisoners of the system evil men devised.
Many struggling to be free from what politicians camouflaged. 
Wisdom overrules such folly and the proverb is most profound;
Holding one down makes holder as much a captive as one held down.

This nation, “land of the brave and free”, held out freedom’s lamp to all,
Went out one ominous night and over “liberty’s lamp” threw a pall.
Had wiser men with hearts of love been ruled by God’s Divine Light,
Black and white would have been spared this great nation’s damnable blight.

Details | David Moore Poem

Perseverance

Competing against windy air
Doing its best to stay in flight
Wondered why it would even dare
As it wrestled with all its might

Pretty bird that was very small
A newborn of very few days
Yet the small, feathered one gave all
To make it through the turbulent maze

It perched on the lamp by my door
Worn from fighting with gravity
Thought, would my guest stay or just soar
To prove profound tenacity

My weathered friend with spirits high
Left the haven by my back door
Found its way back into the sky
Braver and stronger than before

Mother Nature’s lesson is true
The moment we become alive
Until life ends and our work through
One must persevere to survive

Details | David Moore Poem

An Old Cowboy

An Old Cowboy

An old cowboy left yesterday.
Once drove herds over open range.
Many hardships along the way,
But a life he would never change.

Heard sound of cattle full stampede.
Rode days in slush up to his knees.
Tall in the saddle on his steed.
Broke, but had all a cowboy needs.

Up before dawn most of his days.
Often playing an old guitar,
Singing tunes about dusty trails,
And lost loves that were torn apart.

Old age and time at long last struck.
Glory gone like western ghost town.
Life’s work over and spent last buck,
A cowboy king without a crown.

Withdrew in deep grief and doubt,
His way of life had gone away.
Last words, “head ‘em up; move ‘em out”,
Old cowboy died yesterday

Details | David Moore Poem

The Ultimate Sacrifice

The Ultimate Sacrifice

Arlington’s air was thick with death’s pathos,
Grief and pain shared once more in war’s great loss,
The great sacrifice of our nation’s brave,
Fending off tyranny’s harsh tidal Wave.     

Horse hooves made a doleful unrhythmic beat, 
As the caisson moved slowly and discreet, 
Step by step in Arlington’s protocol,
Our flag, the stars and stripes, the casket pall.

Lead us, O Christ, to the vict’ry of peace, 
Help us hatred and revenge never seek,
Save us from war from which there is no win, 
May Thy grace and love reign supreme within.

Old Glory waves for all who paid the price, 
To protect and defend the U S A,   
We pay tribute to those who gave their lives,
Taps declare none have given more than they.

Details | David Moore Poem

By the Lady's Dim Light

By The Lady’s Dim Light
                                               
The Lady’s blazing torch held high and message at her feet,      
Clear message to the world, tyranny’s ultimate defeat.
Ascent to breathe the fresh air of liberty’s atmosphere,
Free every day, speak own mind, go anywhere, void of fear.

Peoples of all nations and races, with aspirations all,
From lands near and far in answer to freedoms call.
Persecution’s iron fist powerless toward all who yearn
To come; tired, poor, wretched refuse; no one is spurned.

High ideal that should work with fairness and justice for all.
Not when matters get entangled in politicians’ halls.
It’s not what you know but who you know that catches the ear.
Some get in very fast, while many wait year after year.

The Lady’s Lamp is supposed to be the beam to the world,
America’s message of help, hope and home eagerly heard.
But if the world’s disenfranchised are treated as blight,
The masses will huddle and wait in the Lady’s dim light.

Details | David Moore Poem

And the Mighty Wind Blows

And the mighty wind blows through the tops of the many trees,
Whistling through the waving leaves, composing a symphony.

Cypress trees by blue water,
Soft chatter of falling rain,
Creations lovely daughter,
A place where time began.

It’s where poets go to write lines of prose and rhyme,
With hope that what is penned will stand the test of time.
It’s where scholars search for what they do not know,
With hope that what is found will bring a bright tomorrow.

And the mighty wind blows through the tops of the many trees,
Whistling through the waving leaves, composing a symphony.

It’s where children play, ‘neath moss covered trees,
With hope that each new day, will bring rich fantasies.
.It’s where young lovers go on a clear and blissful day,
With hope that the love they share will never fade away.

And the mighty wind blows through the tops of the many trees,
Whistling through the waving leaves, composing a symphony.

All kinds can journey where, 
Rich flora groom the scene, 
Midst orchards very rare,
Carolina’s beauty queen!

And the mighty wind blows through the tops of the many trees,
Whistling through the waving leaves, composing a symphony.

Details | David Moore Poem

West Virginian Hero

West Virginian Mountaineer, hill country free,
Born down in a holler to folks of dirt po means.
Heard wind blow wave ‘er wave o’er regal mountain peaks.
Fed on cornpone, biscuits, country gravy, and beans.

White mist over each peak a crown of majesty.
In rich valley below, unique person dwelt.  
Admired sprawling mountaineer family tree.
Anyone not ‘bon up ’thar in the hills was suspect.

Ran like a deer, strong as a bear, eyes like a hawk.
Had speck of earth’s riches: smidgen from modern store.
Used outhouse year 'round, often times in the dark!
Worldly things rated low; Evermore got high score. 

Shot rifle straight as an arrow flying through the air,
As ray of sunshine finds its way through leafy trees.
Had the stealth of bobcat leaving his secret lair,
Could seek up on someone; unaware presence there.

Honored no pass signs around moonshiner’s grove.
Words sounded odd to some; "Whar, thar, airish out ‘har.
Folks growed "tabaccer, lit oil lamp and wood stove.
Misjudged as brainless; mind could ace lawyer’s bar.

Volunteered one day while wearing worn out jeans.
Proud to be a soldier, as ancestry of yore.
Eager to serve country; had just turned nineteen. 
Sent off to hostile land; part of medical corps.

Ten soldiers died when compound was hit one night.
Each one was honored; a national hero.
Military honors; flags, taps, and over flights.
One from West Virginia; Marine, Megan Marlow.

Details | David Moore Poem

Jungle Orchestra

Music dissolved all enmity, 
Annulled natural chemistry, 
All regardless of consortia,
Came to hear the jungle orchestra. 

Maestro King Lion got all in tune,
Baboon was superb on the bassoon,
Four parrots made a splendid quartet,
Chimpanzee dazzling on clarinet.

Tiger gifted on piano keys,
Ivory’s ring in the warm night breeze,
Hyena on flute, as good as it comes,
Monkey kept rhythm on bongo drums.

Bonobos’ violins euphony,
Playing strings so beautifully,
Bush Baby played harp con amore,
Mandrill on bass like never before.

Leopard was genius on the trumpet,
Sounding superb and jubilant,
Hippo virtuosic on oboe,
Gorilla’s trombone magnifico.

Music’s power can calm savage breast,
Myth or not, ‘tis what the poet said,
Oh, that it could put all strife at rest,
Bringing blessed peace on earth instead.