He Died A Hero?
He died a hero
In a war of vague purpose
We really don't know
What it was for, I suppose.
An axis of evil?
A war on Terror-
But assessments reveal
Man's greed and error.
Was it about oil?
Who was the aggressor-
Did we make him recoil
Or were we the oppressor?
So where' s the victory
Where indeed is the end?
Death's the only reality
For the soldiers you send.
Familes now broken
Young and old lives lost,
Fathers and sons taken
Oh, at such a great cost!
'He died a hero'
Tell that to their children,
The pain of loss you don't know
As you plan a new war again.
....................... ................................................. ...........................
July 15,2009
Makati, Metro Manila
Philippines
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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He Is That Man
He is that man who sent young men to die
In battle underneath a foreign sky
And wars are never won if lives are lost
In human life how can one count the cost.
He is that man who led the big parade
And to him went the victory accolade
The men who died for him are now forgot
And he the hero never fired one shot.
He is that man with hair of silvery gray
A hero then a hero still today
He took the fame the honour and the pride
And many young men for his ego died.
He is that man who with his wife on sunday
Go to the house of God to kneel and pray
But still the taint of sin with him will stay
Of young lives lost for him so far away.
The hurt of loss with mothers will remain
Due to this man who caused such grief and pain
He sent their sons beyond the sea to die
In battle underneath a foreign sky.
He is that man with hair of silvery gray
A hero then a hero still today
The men who died for him are now forgot
And he the hero never fired one shot.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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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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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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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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Yesterday's Hero
The news became big news and travelled far and wide
That the great sporting hero had suddenly died
He was buried with honours and at his graveside
The club President spoke of one who brought honour and pride
As Captain of the club some five decades ago
When he was the one everyone wished to know
In the football final he inspired the team
To bring to reality what had been a dream
He served up a marvellous footballing display
And in the Club's greatest victory he was man of the day
But time left him gray and the years left him slow
The one who was hero five decades ago
And on leaving the graveyard a young boy to his father did say
It was yesterday's hero they buried today.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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 Final Old Hero
The final old hero has faded away
His bones even beyond the state of decay
He gave rise to many a patriotic song
But to Mother Nature he finally belong.
He was a great King in a Land from here far
And he was one who led his army in war
He died a true hero on the battle-ground
And stories about him in folklore abound.
No heroes amongst the war leaders of today
From the heat of the battle they stay far away
The children of others for them fight and die
And the rewards of renown and wealth they enjoy.
I see them as manipulative deceitful and sly
Yet that the majority cannot see through them I do wonder why
For what they truly are many them cannot see
And the hero to many is a coward to me.
Though his legend inspired the bards for to rhyme
The final old hero almost forgotten in time
He led his men in war and in battle he died
And true greatness of him never can be denied.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Hero Is Born.
A hero is born out of the gutter he comes. The rich plot his death and kingdoms want him gone. A hero is born; out of oppression he came the spark of a change is what he brings. A hero is born; into hate is where he lives, yet he smiles and says I am the way. A hero is born and now the wealthy will cry, for he is a lord in disguise. A hero was born to be a champion of the poor but first he must die so he can be reborn. A hero has come and soon you will cry no more for this hero is the truth and freedom he brings. no matter who or where, you can be free. for the hero I speak of is the one who made me. at all truth I cry and strive in pain but the hero has many names. So my loved ones and all! The little heroes in the sea. Remember he is with you and me. So take heart and war with me fight the good fight and one day we will be one with three.
poem by Gary Manning
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War Never Solves Anything
Of battles won and noble soldiers you hear the old balladeer sing
But war only brings death and suffering and war never solves anything
And the mental scars of war keep festering long after the battle does end
You badly injure or kill someone's loved one that person will not be your friend.
For God and the flag of their Nation too many in battle have died
And the Government honour war heroes in their false show of patriotic pride
But the fact is their young lives were wasted and the fact with us sadly remain
That old battles are never over and for old grieviances human blood spilt again.
War weaponry and explosives big business in a World where human life is taken cheap
By some a human life seen as of no more value than that of a cow's or a sheep
From history we have not learned the war supposed to end all wars long gone
Yet every day more violence and terror and war and war mongering lives on.
Of battles won and acts of war bravery so many songs written and sung
And war instigated by old men must always be fought by the young
But the song for the young dead war hero to the hero's mum to it has a bitter ring
And war is a waste of human life for war never solves anything.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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On The Execution Of Timothy McVeigh
He will be long remembered due to his heinous crime
For such barbaric acts of cowardliness don't fade away in time
Because of him one hundred and sixty eight had died and he left many with horrific injuries
And memories of him will live on like all bad memories.
But before condemning Tim McVeigh we ought to not forget
That there are as bad still alive as he who will never be put to death
Who are looked upon as heroes where can one draw the line?
So many innocents have died in the name of war yet to many that seems fine.
The leaders who have ordered foreign cities to be bombed from the carnage far away
Live in happy retirement our ageing heroes of today
The blood of innocents on their hands but that seems quite okay
But the wrongs and rights of the taking of human life not for mankind to say.
The war leaders order their fighter pilots to bomb cities far away
But for acts of terror in their homeland there is all hell to pay
And Tim McVeigh for act of terrorism died tightly strapped to a chair
Whilst the one responsible for thousands of deaths lives as a free millionaire.
One seen as a villian and the other a hero though I see them as the same
For one cannot make an excuse for brutal acts of shame
One died though lethal injection the other ageing and gray
Lives in the lap of luxury and a hero still today.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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Be My Hero Be My Knight
When all the men died in my world
I have you the only one left
When all the important men died suddenly
You're taking a helicopter to come
You started a new revolutionary
But be careful, don't die yourself in it.
Let everybody know your name
Let you be my Hero be my Knight.
I'm a slim woman with a mask
and a walking stick
Let you be my Hero be my Knight
If you still have a little pity on me
Come on time, be My hero be My knight.
poem by Yihuai Ying
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I'm Tired Of Ageing Politicians
I'm tired of ageing Politicians talking of war
Young soldiers risk their lives for them in Countries afar
And yet they seem to get re-elected when the voters have their say
They play their patriotic card and for them that does pay.
Their war card is their winning card they talk of us and they
And they send young people to fight for them in Countries far away
Not for any moral principle but for their own self interest
War helps them for to cling to power and seems to serve them best.
I'm tired of ageing Politicians who wage war in God's name
Who send others to kill and maim for them in their quest for immortal fame
The winners only write the war history and that's how 'twill always be
Yet the cost in the loss of Human life is huge for every war victory.
I'm tired of ageing Politicians who at the least excuse
Send their war planes off to distant Lands to set terror on the loose
For every death they may boast of another terrorist they create
They talk of peace through the gun barrel and they only give us hate.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Stupidity.
Stupidity.
We celebrate our dead heroes.
Their white headstones arranged in rows.
To mark where soldiers bodies lie.
They are no longer friends and foes
War cemeteries are tended well
in honour of the men who fell
It is the least that we can do
for men who died by shot and shell.
Each single death a tragedy,
each one recorded carefully.
To satisfy the bureaucrats
who collate deaths statistically.
I wonder why we cannot see.
That death alone claims victory.
Each new war adds to the score
of people dying uselessly.
Though we remember them with pride.
The countless men who sadly died.
Each thinking that their cause was just.
Involuntary suicide.
We celebrate our dead heroes
with white headstones arranged in rows.
Yet we still send young men to die
And always will do I suppose.
We do not learn from history
For no good reason I can see.
That wars prove nothing in the end
Except how stupid we can be.
Wednesday,30 December 2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Along The War Avenue Of honour
Along the war Avenue of Honour a plaque to a dead soldier nailed to every tree
Brave young men who died in battle their reward for their bravery
They died in the war said to end all wars in the killing fields of World war one
But many wars since and far too many bloody battles and peace in the World not yet won.
Wars started by silly ageing men who send the young for them to die
Ageing men who themselves will die of old age and their twilight years they will enjoy,
ageing males heroes of their people we honour cowards as heroes one might say
The young men will go to war for them and the young men with their young lives pay.
The war supposed to end all wars long over almost nine decades since have gone by
But many wars have been fought since then and war pilots dropp their big bombs from the night sky
But suppose that's what will always happen when we give all of our power away
To silly and ageing male war men who with hair dyes cover their gray.
Along the war avenue of honour long dead soldiers names on every tree
Young noble men who died in battle far from homeland and family
In what was to be the war to end all wars yet we don't have much wisdom to show
For the loss of so many fine young men well over eight decades ago.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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Freedom Isn't Free...
Who says our freedom is free? Not Me.
True, We are freer than most, but not enough,
that we should boast.
Before you say Freedom is free, stop and count the cost
of all the lives lost,
Freedom isn't free, when there's killing in our streets.
Freedom isn't free, to the Soldier that is waiting to be shipped over seas.
Freedom isn't free, with the pain, he or she is feeling inside, with
the thought of having to leave they're loved one's behind, and
it hurts so bad that it brings them to their knees.
Freedom isn't free, when your living in uncertainty.
Freedom isn't free, having to say good-bye, to a loved one that
is going off to war.Freedom isn't free, to a soldier who is on the front lines, knowing he or she, could die anytime.
Freedom isn't free when your lying in bed,
waiting and wondering, if you'll ever see your loved ones alive again.
Freedom isn't free, when a little child crys in the night,
for his or her Mommy and Daddy, and they're not there to hold them close, and comfort them, and to ease their fears, and wipe away they're tears. And all those in all the other wars, and the lives that are still being lost at this very moment.
Do you still say Freedom is free?
Freedom isn't free, when a Soldier is wounded in battle.
When news reaches, Family and friends at home,
And their told that their Soldier is wounded far beyond repair,
The loss and pain felt can not compare.
Freedom isn't free, with all those many Soldiers that wished they
had died because of all the pain in their broken up bodies.
Freedom isn't free, when your lying in bed, and you hear that dreaded
tap on your door.And you pray to God that you were only having a bad dream.
Freedom isn't free when you open the door and listen to the
bugle play, and you feel a sudden chill.
Everything goes still.
Freedom isn't free, when there is a Flag being draped
over a coffin, of a Brother, Sister, or a friend.
Freedom isn't free, when you think of all the children,
of the mothers and the wives, of Fathers, sons and husbands, whose
lives have been interrupted.
Freedom isn't free, when you think about the graveyard at the
bottom of the sea, of the unmarked graves in Arlington.
Who say's Freedom is Free? Not Me!
Written 7/23/008
BY Nora Eason
poem by Nora Eason
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Totally confused.
Far below us there are salt mines
From ancient seas.
And fossils from millions of
Of years ago.
But yet I am told that they were put there
To confuse the evolutionists
There is Gods plan.
What plan is that I ask myself.
When millions of soldiers and non-combatants
Died in the two World wars, and a holocaust that decimated the jewish, old men, children and women.
People that died in terror.
Where was he?
Appearing at a time of disaster or war
Would it be wonderful
To see a great hope.
Can you imagine the media!
War is no more, diseases are controlled.
It confuses me because I have belief in him.
Yet no one has returned with the good news,
In 2000 years.
I really want' to see him
But he is like an uncle that I never see.
poem by Willow Moon Pearce
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