Chowdhury Moezuddin Biswas
My great grand father
Became hero from zero
Through lifelong struggle
poem by Asif Andalib
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Related quotes
A Hero?
Her hero is pretty and thin
Her hero is a hero to many
A hero of fame and a hero of fortune
A role model, a hero of glamour
Her hero is a hero to many
His hero is fit and fast
His hero is a hero to many
A hero of sport, a hero of games
A role model, a hero of victory
His hero is a hero to many
Her hero is clever yet plane
Her hero is a hero to few
A hero of science, a hero of logic
A role model, a hero of knowledge
Her hero is a hero to few
His hero is a hero of art but he is poor
His hero is a hero to few
A hero of word a hero of writings
A role model, a hero of language
His hero is a hero to few
But that’s the thing with your heros....
Hero worship is only skin deep.
poem by Timothy Venard
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Old Jimmy
With the aid of walking stick he shuffles down the side street and time has left him looking stiff and gray
And truly it can be said of old Jimmy that he is one who has known a better day
Ageless father time takes care of everybody there was a time when he could run quite fast
But now he only can walk at a slow pace and all of his better days are in the past.
He was a football hero in his heyday the best on ground in nineteen forty one
The day that his club played in the Grand Final without him the Premiership could not be won
Close to his prime and in his early twenties on looking back that seems so long ago
It's true that time leaves it's mark on everybody the man who once ran fast now walking slow.
The hard games of football he played in now on him telling he has arthritis in his painful right knee
An injury that forced him into retirement when he was past his prime at thirty three
Back in the forties and fifties he was a football hero but football heroes like the seasons come and go
And that he once was a Grand Final hero is something few young people wish to know.
Old Jimmy slowly shuffles down the side walk a mere shell of the man he used to be
In forty one he starred in the Grand Final when he was near his prime at twenty three
And father time has left his mark on Jimmy and time 'tis said for anyone doesn't wait
And the grim reaper will take the king and pauper and the grim reaper will take the football great.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Worship Of Greatness
The worship of Greatness
My lifelong sin
Will be taken with me to the grave-
I loved my father too much
For whom his own Greatness
Or more
Failure in achieving it
Was all and all.
And I his would – be justifier and redeemer
I too in the lifelong tilting at windmills
Now ready to go down to my final and forever silence
Wept perhaps, but more
Unhonored and unsung.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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To be Hero
A hero is some one looked upto
Who others may love to be
A hero never loss hope
To be hero means to be courageous
And willing to put their life aside for another person
A hero is anybody or somebody that was loved
To be hero, must be successful
To be hero, may not be superhuman but must saved
If they say i'm to be hero
Hero must lead by sample because everyman is hero
Every hero is man
poem by Olaniyan Kehinde Hero Hko
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I am My Hero
Of
course! !
I am a hero,
my hero,
your hero,
CNN hero,
Fox Taxis Oil toxic hero
my street mate hero,
my African roommate hero,
United nation hero,
unesco
unicef
moncef
duracef
charl
du champs hero,
picasso hero
mozart,
bethoven
chichina
lovesky
hero,
and everybody hero?
of! course! ! ! ! !
-not off course-
I LOVE
MYSELF...
DO YOU THINK
OR DREAM
I OR i
WILL SELL MY SELF? ? ?
? ? ?
OR ASK FOR
YOUR
APPROVAL,
SQUARED AND OVAL
AS YOU
LOVE IT TO BE..
Of course i am
my own hero
but,
also
i am sure...
everyone is my hero.
poem by Atef Ayadi
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Hero?
Hail great hero!
Hero brave!
We praise you hero!
I your slave
Now duly fall
On giving knee
In hero worship
Unto thee!
Now did you hero save our globe
When draped in classic hero’s robe?
And did it flow as reddened blood
As battles raged in fields of mud?
Oh hero tell me of your fame:
Were writhing serpents fair your game?
Did you pierce the dragon’s heart
Intrepid hero; play the part
When Tyrant slain in hero’s fight
On quaking ground thro’ battle’s might?
And did you hero conquer evil -
Waste the minions of the devil?
Oh valiant hero, does your armour
Gleam from ventures steeped in valour?
Your sword oh hero, sparks a glint
From charging steel to give the hint
Of what great chapters Hero's Tome
Might tell to us when heroes roam
Through lands of yore when goblins vile
Sought a chance to kill for bile.
Oh hail thy hero,
Hero tall!
Bless you hero,
As I fall
In blushing shame,
I speak to me…
This mirror aids to fantasise
That I be hero worldly wise,
But meek and mild is all I am:
Hero naught; unbridled scam.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Hero hero hero hero
Hero hero hero hero
Hero hero hero hero
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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A Father Is A Father
A father is a father.
But it takes a man to be a dad.
You lost that title when you left mom and I.
A dad is man that I can turn to when I need someone.
His son first hero and a daughters first love.
Any boy can be a father.
But to take responsibility and raise that child,
That's what makes a father a dad.
A father is a father.
A boy is a boy.
But a father can be a dad.
All he has to do is become a man.
poem by Alice Spakrs
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Heros
A Hero Fights For You
A Hero Stands By Your Side
A Hero Is Willing To Go An Inch Longer
A Hero Knows What It's Like To Lose Someone
A Hero Knows What To Do Right Then
A Hero Never Leaves Someone Behind
A Hero Has Someone To Make Them Who They Are
A Hero Will Never Risk Someone To Save Himself
A Hero Always Takes The Risk Just For The Last One
We All Have A Hero In Us
We All Need Are Hero
poem by Jamie Newcomb
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The Woman Five Doors Down
The woman five doors down tells me her son Ted is the best player in the school football team
And that one day he will play in an A.F.L. Grand Final and that more than once of late she's had this dream
Of watching him receive the Coleman medal for best on ground on football's biggest day
Watched by well over ninety thousand people who cheer him on with a loud hip hooray.
But locals who know of football and watched Ted play say he will never play at the top grade
That he won't go down Swanston Street in the back of a lorry
to loud applause in the Grand Final Parade
They say his mother greatly over rates him and that in his team he's just an average player
And that not one in his club will play A.F.L. football with good under age players they do not compare
Ted's mother believes her son will be a football hero and she seemed so convinced that she convinced me
But others who have seen him play say different and with her opinions they do not agree
They say that she will end up disappointed that her dreams for her son will not come true
That he won't make a career out of football another line of work he must pursue.
The woman five doors down tells me her son Ted will one day play in the famed M.C.G.
And be the hero of a great Grand Final in a game that will go down in history
And though others seem to think that she's only dreaming I hope her son will be a football great
And that she will applaud him in the Grand Final and the football fans his name will celebrate.
poem by Francis Duggan
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From pools of blood
From pools of blood bushes, trees
and aloes grow in the veldt
where British soldiers
fired on my countrymen
and some bayoneted them.
Concentration camps where twenty thousand
women and children died without dignity
at the hand of foreigners,
who claimed to be fellow Christians
are now covered with grass
and that past are being blotted out
as if the misery, the indignity,
the mass murder
never happened
and great Queen Victoria
is still dignified
and still I hold Great Britain responsible
for the murder of my great grand mother,
for the destruction
of my great grand father’s farm,
for the seizure
of my other great grand father’s property,
for sending him to St. Helena
as a prisoner of war,
for invading my country
for making profit from the minerals
and the quarter Scotsman in me
together with my three quarters Afrikaner parts
forever wants to be free
from the enslavement
which that foreign nation brought.
[Note: My own great grandmother died in a British concentration camp and my great grandfather was sent by the British to St. Helena as a prisoner of war and as a result of this, my grandfather(Gert Strydom) grew up in a orphanage.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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You Came
You Came
I remained before you came
After your arrival I remain also
Ballie bloomed before you came
Crow used to cawing at dawn
The barking dog used to embrace me
As soon as I reached to it
Some feature after your arrival
But amongst this something differ
What is that something?
I asked it to a street boy-
He replied, how can I answer-
This footpath was bedroom of my grand father
That was before 1947
Grand father could not sleep because of British mosquito
My father’s expression was same
He was destroyed due to Pakistani mosquito
And what’s about-
The mosquito grew up socking blood of me
Grand father and father- Will let me off?
But I have heard, If this government
May come for next term-
Government will give us mosquito curtain each.
In the previous periods none gave this commitment.
If really I get the mosquito curtain
Then, like my life
Answer of your `something’ will get.
--0--
poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
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When A Hero Comes
When a hero comes
There'll be no more fear
When our hero comes
No longer will we shed tears
When that hero comes
They'll pave the way
To a brighter and better day
When a hero comes
When our hero arrives
Evil better beware
You better be prepared
Cause the bullets will rip through the air
When a hero comes
Now you better get ready
Cause its starting soon
And our hero will arrive at high noon
Cause when our hero comes
You better listen to what I say
Or you'll forfeit your life today
And now our hero comes
And now here he comes
To end all of our pain
And now that he's come
He'll clear away the stain
Cause our hero's come
And as the bullets fly
We will hear them cry
And finally the evil will die
Cause our hero came
poem by Vasto Grom
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Hero or villain...
We only need to do,
Do our jobs properly.
None of us can say,
Who would be hero?
Or who would be villain?
This is a wonder of history,
Or a mystery of nature.
He who wins the struggle,
He will be the hero,
On the other hand,
The defeated are the villain.
Some time I wonder,
What if Hitler won the war?
Would he be such hatred villain?
Or a beloved hero as usual?
It is the complicity of us,
We never evaluate the works,
We only emphasize the fruit,
Poor guys, working harder,
Dreaming to be the hero.
But if they would feel that,
The human run on the belief,
Survival of the fittest.....
poem by Kafil Uddin Raihan.
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Surprised
'O son of mine age, these eyes lose their fire:
Be eyes, I pray, to thy dying sire.'
'O father, fear not, for mine eyes are bright
I read through a millstone at dead of night.'
'My son, O tell me, who are those men,
Rushing like pigs to the feeding-pen?'
'Welcomers they of a statesman grand.
They'll shake, and then they will pocket; his hand.'
'Sagacious youth, with the wondrous eye,
They seem to throw up their headgear. Why?'
'Because they've thrown up their hands until, O,
They're so tired!-and dinners they've none to throw.'
'My son, my son, though dull are mine ears,
I hear a great sound like the people's cheers.'
'He's thanking them, father, with tears in his eyes,
For giving him lately that fine surprise.'
'My memory fails as I near mine end;
How _did_ they astonish their grateful friend?'
'By letting him buy, like apples or oats,
With that which has made him so good, the votes
Which make him so wise and grand and great.
Now, father, please die, for 'tis growing late.'
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Mr. Hero
I found this hero today.
They looked right through me,
As though I were invisible.
They never noticed me,
What a smile I had on my face.
I am happy to see you, Mr. Hero,
But you don't see that I'm right here.
You're looking right through me.
You're not seeing that I'm here.
Mr. Hero, I am here to save you,
For you are my hero no longer.
I'm here to take care of you, Mr. Hero,
Not for you to take care of me.
Wake up, Mr. Hero.
I'm here to take your temperature.
I'm here to make sure you're all better.
Mr. Hero, I'm sorry to inform you,
But you're not my hero anymore.
poem by Shannon Nicole
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05 - A Hero
A hero thinks of others before they think of themselves
A hero will die to protect
A hero can be of any age, any colour
A hero can be man, woman or child
A hero is courageous, loving and brave
A hero will never complain
A hero can be made in one act of compassion
Or years of tender loving care
Some hero's are remembered, whilst many are left forgotten
Hero's are angels in disguise, saving precious innocent lives
poem by Nicola Burkett
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The Hero Within
Limit yourself to the easy
and the difficult you'll never try.
Easys need live on the fringe of the world
grubbing for nickels and dimes,
Claiming that life has dealt a cruel blow;
crying: the fault is not mine.
Heros need training to do the grand deeds
that earn them a hero's acclaim
It's setting your eye on the hero inside,
knowing you're fair to the game.
Knowing you've got what it takes to be tough
no matter how rough life may be.
I'm a hero, I know it! When my actions show it
it's because I'm a hero to me.
poem by Adeline Foster
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Grave who was my great grand ma
She was good woman she bring
us grace to the family
She was great friend and mom and sister
and great grand ma
She bought everyone in the family Grace
Grace was strong woman and nice and kind
and loving and caring and sweet
When she came in to our life she was
great in our life
She love me and everyone else when she
and ma say both love me
It was like Grace she bought me was in
my heart and soul
Grace was good woman and good person
who went to church
God needed my great grand ma to have things of
Grace be bring up their to everyone else like she
did here
God bought a good person in this world and to everyone
hearts Grace is my family and friend
Grace was strong and she was leader all of the family
She was great leader and good friend and family and
she was love and everyone will miss her and wish she
was still here with us
But Grace is with us and she live in us she a hero just
like my aunt is
We love Grace and my aunt and great grand pa and we
always will love these three strong people.
poem by Kristina Riggs
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Hero
My hero is no hero at all.
My hero silently walks these empty halls.
As I falter…
As I fall…
My hero continues to walk these silent…empty halls,
These halls are windows into my hell.
Servants of Baal…
Here they dwell.
Frozen inequities… How fickle they are to me
My hero possesses no qualities at all.
My hero…has virtues but none known well
My hero only protects his respect.
My hero… is no hero at all.
poem by Juxtaposed Jealousy
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This Guest--a Hero
THIS GUEST....A HERO
I've stood beside a hero
For nigh almost a year
His Faith is ever growing
And to me, he shows No Fear.
He's sure that life is ending
But He's living it his best.
He laughs and jokes to cheer others
For by the Father, He is blessed.
His poetry is inspiring
For in the Father he believes,
Spreading there the Father's word
Great blessings he receives.
Each day he shares a message
Each day he shares a joke.
He'll not complain, he's dying,
He'll just act like other folk.
To me He is so special
For through his eyes I can see
That special place in Heaven
That awaits the likes of me.
And now he pulls away from us
To spare that grief that we do share
But, I know, When I get to Heaven
I will, most surely, see him there.
Blessings my friend.
May God do for you
What you have done for others!
Love You!
Author: Carol Witt
Ms. Caroline
© 2006 Ms. Caroline (All rights reserved)
poem by Carolyn Ford Witt
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