Under a powerful general there are no feeble soldiers.
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Peace Proposal
Said General Clay to General Gore really must we fight this silly war
To kill and die in such a bore I quite agree said General Gore
Said General Gore to General Clay we could go to the beach today
And have some icecream on the way a grand idea said General Clay
Said General Clay to General Gore we'll build sand castles on the shore
Said General Gore we'll splash and play let's leave right now said General Clay
Said General Gore to General Clay but what if the sea's closed today
And what if the sand's been blown away the dreadful thought said General Clay
Said General Gore to General Clay I've always feared the ocean's spray
And we may drown it's true we may it chills my blood said General Clay
Said General Clay to General Gore my bathin' suit is slightly tore
We better go on with our war I quite agree said General Gore
The General Clay chanrged General Gore as bullets flew and cannons roared
And now at last there is no more of General Clay or General Gore
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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The Generals
Said General Clay to General Gore,
'Oh must we fight this silly war?
To kill and die is such a bore.'
'I quite agree,' said General Gore.
Said General Gore to General Clay,
'We could go to the beach today
And have some ice cream on the way.'
'A grand idea,' said General Clay.
Said General Gore to General Clay,
'But what if the sea is closed today?
And what if the sand's been blown away?'
'A dreadful thought,' said General Clay.
Said General Gore to General Clay,
'I've always feared the ocean's spray,
And we may drown!' 'It's true, we may.
It chills my blood,' said General Clay.
Said General Clay to General Gore,
'My bathing suit is slightly tore.
We'd better go on with our war.'
'I quite agree,' said General Gore.
Then General Clay charged General Gore
As bullets flew and cannons roared.
And now, alas! there is no more
Of General Clay or General Gore.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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War of Words
from a bottle of ink
spread into paper field
my word soldiers
pen is the sword
mind is the general
invading the blank land
sword is drawn
mind is attacked
conquered by abstract thing
called word
from a bloody throat
fly into air space
the word soldiers
tongue is the cannon
heart is the general
destroying memory bond
cannon is shot
heart is hurt
separated by abstract thing
called word
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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America vs Germany vs India(A funny story)
In a ship the Generals of three nations were traveling with their soldiers. They started the topic that whose soldier had more of guts.
The American general called for one of his men and told him to jump down the ship and take a round swimming around the moving ship. The soldier did as he was commanded and the general boasted of by saying 'See the guts! '
Now the German general called out for one of his men and asked him to take two similar rounds. The soldier did as he was told.
When he came back from the water the German said, 'See the guts.'
Now the Indian General called out for his most courageous man, Santa and asked him to take five similar rounds.
Santa promptly replied, 'Am I your dad`s servant? '
At this the general proudly said 'See the guts'.
poem by Edwin Drood
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Soldier (not really a poem)
the american revolution was fought witha new breed of soldier.
this country was founded on that soldier.
that soldier is the one that those on the front lines calls the coward
that soldier is the one that those on the front lines call when they need help
because these soldiers dont miss.
these soldiers are trained harder than the most elite frontline man
these soldiers are tought to kill their enemy before there enemy sees them.
these soldiers are the ghosts in the night,
these soldiers are the wind in the day
these soldiers are everywhere.
these soldiers are the bush next to u.
these soldiers are the the tree across the field.
these soldiers are the lump of snow in the flat plain.
these soldiers are snipers.
snipers are the reason we are free.
snipers stop the enemy before the enemy gets close to u,
poem by Joshua Decker
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War
Tragedy spawned by powerful and greedy;
Nurtured by innocent, ignorant and needy.
Politician and general safe behind buffers
As each patriotic soldier fights and suffers.
If not for the poor, who would ever wage war?
It’s waged so powerful egos can be staged.
Each time a confused, lonely soldier has to die,
Power and money are the real reasons why.
How can destroying a country and its population
Ever help inspire and unite it as a nation?
In America democracy’s a product of so few years
Built on a bloody Civil War and oceans of tears.
Through war all classes think they can be winners,
But spoils are just for the powerful and their sinners.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Tim Tebow Poem = God's Soldiers
It’s time to remember our soldiers for the Lord
Who are deployed throughout God’s Earth.
It’s time to recall their sacrifice and love
For what freedom and liberty are worth.
The wicked of heart hate America the free
And would commit any foul deed to cause her harm.
It’s up to God’s soldiers to defend and preserve
Our existence as a country free of tyranny and alarm.
Ever since America’s General George Washington
Took up his sword and road off to war.
God’s soldiers of freedom have laid down their life
For faith, country, liberty, love, family and more.
If there is a strong general, there will be no weak soldiers.
A woman for a general, and the soldiers will be women.
The soldiers' blood, the general's reputation.
I am a general. My soldiers are the keys and I have to command them.
quote by Vladimir Horowitz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Day the Soldiers Came
The old man sat at his cottage door
As the soldiers came to town,
And laughed as the trucks went rumbling by,
Laughed as the soldiers frowned,
They carried their rifles high that day,
Marched past him by the score,
And scowled as the old man mocked them there,
As they waged their futile war!
The tanks sat threatening in the square,
The people stood in the street,
Watching the flood of khaki power,
The boots on the marching feet,
The General stood in his jeep that day
A scroll in his scrawny hand:
‘It's never too late to liberate
The folk in this tortured land! '
But then a ripple of laughter came
From the townsfolk standing there,
They seemed to enjoy a local joke,
A joke that they wouldn't share.
The soldiers were tense, bemused at that,
They'd rather the ripple of fear
They'd felt in a hundred similar towns
Since the war broke out that year.
The General barked, ‘Enough of that!
Where is your National Pride?
We've come to free you from servitude
And a great deal more, beside! '
But the old man, sat in his cottage seat
Had let out a great guffaw,
And the soldiers dragged him out of his chair,
To face the General's scorn.
‘Why do you laugh, old man, ' he said,
‘I could shoot you in your pride! '
‘I'm sure you could, and probably would
As you scorch our countryside!
But what price honour, when history
Ascribes your deeds to your name,
Will shooting a poor old peasant man
Ring loud in your Hall of Fame? '
‘Then why do you laugh? ' the General said,
‘The picture here is grim!
These soldiers fought, and died and bled,
You lack respect for them! '
‘This town has sat two thousand years, '
The old man said at last,
‘Was here when Hannibal's elephants stopped
To feed on the mountain grass.'
‘The Roman Legions passed through here
In their conquest and their might,
And Charlemagne's Grand Army
For a single, baleful night;
Even Napoleon Bonaparte
Conquered this little town,
For years, we had the Fascisti, and
The Nazis held us down.'
‘But where have their soldiers gone today,
They lie, each under his mound,
While we sit back, as your troops attack
And thrive in our little town.
You'll only be here for a moment more
Two lines on a history page,
Just one more army to pass through here
In your arrogance, and your rage! '
The army was there for a week or so,
But then, they had to withdraw,
The old man laughed as the soldiers passed,
He let out a great guffaw;
The Rebel General brought his tanks
And a speech that he had planned:
‘It's never too late to liberate
The folk in this tortured land! '
18 August,2012
poem by David Lewis Paget
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It is easy to get a thousand soldiers, but difficult to get one general.
Easy to enroll a thousand soldiers. But, ah, one general!.
When ten thousand soldiers lie rotting, the general's reputation is enhanced.
My confidence in General Grant was not entirely due to the brilliant military successes achieved by him, but there was a moral as well as military basis for my faith in him. He had shown his single-mindedness and superiority to popular prejudice by his prompt cooperation with President Lincoln in his policy of employing colored troops, and his order commanding his soldiers to treat such troops with due respect. In this way he proved himself to be not only a wise general, but a great man.
quote by Frederick Douglass
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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As attorney general, I can either look into it or I can ignore it because they're a bunch of powerful legislators... and I'm afraid they're going to cut my budget.
quote by Ben Chandler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The more a general is accustomed to place heavy demands on his soldiers, the more he can depend on their response.
quote by Karl Von Clausewitz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our country presents on every side the evidences of that continued favor under whose auspices it, has gradually risen from a few feeble and dependent colonies to a prosperous and powerful confederacy.
quote by Martin Van Buren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Spoke to Soldiers
I spoke to too many soldiers,
You’d never know the exact record;
We still had lunch and then the enemy,
Forced into slavery of the army,
Been war-prison, been godliness of speech,
Never been superior officer or general.
My reward was in the favour of heaven,
And the language I possessed connived the house to live in.
To be a civilian was wrongful then good,
As deities shall mind afterwards,
Gods bespoke their dread, and dealt with cards
To be defeated by my hands and feet.
I see the comrade of zeal in a jail
And wanted him out, just out.
We face squalor in the system of a world in war,
Never do soldiers become heroes when in action.
poem by Naveed Akram
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