TheCycle of Misery
He was a dead-ringer for his dad.
He inherited every look his dad ever had.
But he never really knew his dad at all.
For a bullet to his chest had come to call.
Every time his mom looked at him she'd cry
and he'd come to understand the reason why.
He was a reminder of whom his dad had been.
When she looked at him her sadness would begin.
His dad was a soldier who went off to war.
He'd never questioned his mom anymore.
He wondered a lot why his dad didn't live
and finally figured out he had a life to give.
He gave it for his country that needed him to fight.
He gave it believing that his country was right.
And so when the time came that he was full grown,
he became a soldier becaquse he'd always known
that to be with his dad he would have to die.
So he was off to Iraq to become an American GI.
He carried a picture in his pocket that looked like him.
He knew his chances of returning home were slim.
But he was fighting for his country just like his dad
and when the bullet found him he wasn't even sad.
For isn't that what we young men are supposedly for?
We're dead-ringers for our fathers in senseless war.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Soldier's Ghost
I bled for you - would you for me?
I blessed a skin in blazing fuel
Then took a bullet in a duel of
‘He or I to Die.'
I often question ‘Why? '
Do you?
My country was my life to give -
Would you for country cease to live?
Sinking in a mire of death,
You have no choice -
So while you're still alive,
Rejoice!
I cried in failure - did you care?
And as I waned, were you aware of
What I did -?
Fighting for my country while you hid
Behind your comfort back at home?
Still relaxed?
My wife and child are fading at the tomb.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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American Soldier
American Soldier
When I say... 'I am an American Soldier'
I'm not shouting I'm better than you.
I'm whispering, I was a boy, and now
find myself a man.
When I say... 'I am an American
Soldier'
I speak not only of this with pride
I'm also confessing that I stumble,
make mistakes,
And need competent leadership to
help guide me,
So I in turn,
can be a competent leader.
When I say... 'I am an American
Soldier'
I'm not trying to be strong,
I'm professing that I am weak and
need the strength of my peers and
country,
To help carry me on.
When I say... 'I am an American
Soldier'
I'm not bragging of past successes
I'm admitting I have failed in the past
Admitted the mistakes and tried to
right the wrongs.
When I say... 'I am an American
Soldier'
I'm not claiming to be perfect,
My flaws are far too visible
But my country needs me,
and I soldier on.
When I say... 'I am an American
Soldier'
I can still feel the sting of pain, from
seeing those that I care about die,
While we fight for those that we love.
I have my share of heartaches,
So I call upon the American People to
help guide our soldiers, when home
When I say... 'I am an American
Soldier'
I'm not better than thou,
I'm just a simple man,
Who was called upon by his country
to fight.
By: Michael Anthony, Author of: Mass Casualties: A Young Medic's True Story of Death, Deception, and Dishonor in Iraq. (Available at your local bookstore or online at: www.MassCasualties.com)
[Originally inspired by a Carol Wimmer poem.)
poem by Michael Anthony
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Blow Up Your TV (Spanish Pipe Dream)
(Prine)
She was a levelheaded dancer on the road to alcohol,
I was just a soldier on my way to Montreal.
Well, she pressed her chest against me about the time the jukebox broke.
She gave me a peck on the back of the neck, and these are the words she spoke.
Blow up your TV, throw away your paper, go to the country, build you a home.
Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches, try and find Jesus on your own.
I sat there at the table, and I acted real naive.
Cause I knew that topless lady, she had something up her sleeve.
She danced around the room awhile and she did the hoochy coo.
Yeah, singing a song all night long, telling me what to do.
Blow up your TV, throw away your paper, go to the country, build you a home.
Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches, try and find Jesus on your own.
Well, I was young and hungry, and about to leave that place.
Just as I was going. she looked me in the face.
I said "You must know the answer," she said "No, but I'll give it a try."
To this day we've been living our way, here is the reason why.
We blew up your TV, threw away your paper, went to the country, build us a home.
Had a lot of children, fed 'em on peaches, they all found Jesus on their own.
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spanish Pipedream
She was a level-headed dancer on the road to alcohol
And i was just a soldier on my way to montreal
Well she pressed her chest against me
About the time the juke box broke
Yeah, she gave me a peck on the back of the neck
And these are the words she spoke
Chorus:
Blow up your t.v. throw away your paper
Go to the country, build you a home
Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches
Try an find jesus on your own
Well, i sat there at the table and i acted real naive
For i knew that topless lady had something up her sleeve
Well, she danced around the bar room and she did the hoochy-coo
Yeah she sang her song all night long, tellin' me what to do
Repeat chorus:
Well, i was young and hungry and about to leave that place
When just as i was leavin', well she looked me in the face
I said "you must know the answer."
"she said, "no but i'll give it a try."
And to this very day we've been livin' our way
And here is the reason why
We blew up our t.v. threw away our paper
Went to the country, built us a home
Had a lot of children, fed 'em on peaches
They all found jesus on their own
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Soldiers Dream
As we see every soldier fight
we think why
well deep in every soldier
they had a dream
a dream of fighting for the freedom of his country
and a dream for fighting and coming home to his wife
because every soldier wants to find that iner rage
that will make him live through that war
as we see every soldier fight
we stand with our flag held high
and say thanks
for putting your life on the line for the freedom our country deserves
poem by Tylor Bearman
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A Soldier- Dedicated to Nicholas Shelton
There is discipline in A Soldier you can see it when he walks,
There is honor in A Soldier you hear it when he talks.
There is courage in A Soldier you can see it in his eyes,
There is loyalty in A Soldier that he will not compromise.
There is something in A Soldier that makes him stand apart,
There is strength in A Soldier that beats from his heart.
A Soldier isn't a title any man can be hired to do,
A Soldier is the soul of that man buried deep inside of you.
A Soldier's job isn't finished after an 8 hour day or a 40 hour week,
A Soldier is always A Soldier even while he sleeps.
A Soldier serves his country first and his life is left behind,
A Soldier has to sacrifice what comes first in a civilian's mind.
If you are civilian - I am saying this to you..... next time you see A Soldier remember what they do.
A Soldier is the reason our land is 'Home of the free',
A Soldier is the one that is brave protecting you and me.
If you are A Soldier - I am saying this to you.....
Thank God for EVERY SOLDIER Thank God for what YOU do!
I thought about you Mr. Shelton, I figured this is the least I could do to thank you my friend.
poem by Caleb Jones
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Promise Of A Lie
Go to war young soldier,
Your glory will be praised.
Go to war young soldier,
Your home will stay the same.
Fight for us young soldier,
worry naught about your love.
Fight for us young soldier,
She waits for your return.
Welcome home young soldier,
Heres the medal upon your chest.
Welcome home young soldier,
Your life is now a mess.
Go away young soldier,
We have no more use for you.
Go away young soldier,
Till we call again for you.
The Patriot Returns
Battered and broken I return to you
My time spent in battle is finally through
My country served proudly, I stood the test
I fought side by side with our nations best
I am A soldier, A patriot, true to the cause
My American heart beats without pause
Any time any place any where
This soldier will stand tall and be there
I love my country and will protect her at all cost
I fight for the old, the young, the weak and the lost
I fight for an ideal that is greater than I
I don’t complain, or whine or ask why
But for the time being I am home with you
My duty served my task is thru
But I’ll be watching, over there and over here
And I’ll be putting a hand to my ear
For if ever this soldier is again called to fight
I’ll lace up my boots and do what’s right
Look out world the Devil Dogs are on hand
Ready to fight in the air, on the sea or on land
poem by James Waters
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Victorious Soldier
Fighting for his country,
Not knowing if he will live.
Brave soldier
Standing up for what he believes
and fighting for freedom.
Brave soldier
Fighting for whats right,
Dying Heroes, Dying evil men
Brave soldier
Leaving every thing he owns
To be loyal to his country.
Brave soldier.
Coming home at end of war....
Victorious soldier.
poem by Megan Streett
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Another Young Soldier
Another young soldier has died far away
An army representative will call on his mother today
For to tell her your son on the course of his duty has died
He served and died for his Country with his mates at his side.
Another war mother will grieve for her son
It will not matter to her if the battle was won
And it will not matter to her if her boy died brave
She will weep every time she will visit his grave.
Another young soldier to join the war dead
A bullet from a sniper hit him in the head
On his next birthday in June he would be twenty three
His loss a heavy cross to bear for his parents and members of his family.
Another young soldier may he rest in peace
At least from further suffering he has found release
Just one more to die in another man's war
On a bombed out back street in a city afar.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Soldier’s Wife
Let’s go out
In this cold city
Let me feel
The warmth here
The beloved daughter
As
I am going tomorrow
And who knows
The dinner
Out in the restaurant
A nearby photographer
In uniform
My laurels and stars
I fight for my country
I am a proud soldier
Daughter in his arms
The wife proud
Veil pushed back
So the soldier's family
I found this
In a room
A barrack
Of the soldier
Looked at the photograph
Of thousand hopes
The soldier’s bag
His laurels and stars
The soldier was dead
His laurels and stars
His thousand hopes
What is my fault?
Asked his daughter
And mine too
Asked his wife
His laurels and stars
For the soldier is dead
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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What You Find
There is discipline in A Soldier
you can see it when he walks,
There is honor in A Soldier
you hear it when he talks.
There is courage in A Soldier
you can see it in his eyes,
There is loyalty in A Soldier
that he will not compromise.
There is something in A Soldier
that makes him stand apart,
There is strength in A Soldier
that beats from his heart.
A Soldier isn't a title any man
can be hired to do,
A Soldier is the soul of that man
buried deep inside of you.
A Soldier's job isn't finished after
an 8 hour day or a 40 hour week,
A Soldier is always A Soldier
even while he sleeps.
A Soldier serves his country first
and his life is left behind,
A Soldier has to sacrifice what
comes first in a civilian's mind.
If you are civilian -
I am saying this to you.....
next time you see A Soldier
remember what they do.
A Soldier is the reason our land
is 'Home of the free',
A Soldier is the one that is brave
protecting you and me.
If you are A Soldier -
I am saying this to you.....
Thank God for EVERY SOLDIER
Thank God for what YOU do!
TY bohls
Deaf Gunpowder
Come on soldier.
Soldier?
Get off of your battlefield
Let me take you to a place
Where your weapons are sealed.
Come on soldier.
Soldier?
Look me in the eye
Your heart hasn’t chosen to be here
Then why are you here?
Ask yourself why.
Come on soldier.
Soldier?
It’s time to breathe
It’s time to stop fighting for your life,
For something you don’t believe.
Hey soldier?
Soldier?
I do understand
It wasn’t your choice to be here
But you chose not to fight for that;
You chose to fight for someone else.
That is why in life you were not alive
But when you died,
That was when you started to breathe.
Hey soldier?
Soldier?
I know you cannot hear
Because you strived
You are alive
To you death will never come near.
poem by Mehreen Mujeeb
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Soldiers Heart
sir
i am no normal person
i was no normal child
brought up in the country
one view in my mind
this country we live in
this place we call home
this is my england
with honour to the thrown
i'd fight for queen and country
if the call was made
i'd fight under the flag
this is my way
people think im crazy
people think im mad
this is no normal heart
it is the heart of the soldier
born and bred a soldier
the title i never took
instead im known as police officer
a baton is my rifle
different colour uniform
my boots the same as all the soldiers
my heart the sames as theirs
so when you ask me my name sir
the reply that you will get
i am but a soldier sir
and that i will never forget
Honor the Vets
I looked at the grave stones of the veteran dead
Tears filled my eyes as I bowed my head.
All of them had served their country proud
Now they lay in this ground.
They were sons and daughters, mothers and fathers
Sisters and brothers, uncles and aunts
And the list goes on and on.
But how many of them are honored
with a flower or two.
It’s really not hard to do.
They gave their lives so that we can be free
Don’t they deserve some dignity?
This country is standing on the lives of the dead
All of these have died, and many have bled.
Freedom isn’t really free
Other wise these grave stones you would not see.
Isn’t there someone in your family
Who died fighting for liberty?
Let us honor the dead
And thank the living for all that they have given.
poem by Louis Rams
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Letter To A Soldier
Letter To A Soldier
A soldier got a letter, from the one he loved the most,
he looked at her new picture and he began to boast,
about his lovely wife and their kids back home,
which made all his buddies, think about their own,
when he was all alone, with her letter in his hand,
he thought about the love they had, and began to understand,
the reasons he had for fighting, and the sacrifices he had to make,
so the freedom of his family, no one could ever take,
he kissed the letter as though it was his wife,
it would have to do him, through all his pain and strife,
he kept the letter with him, right next to his heart,
as if it would protect him, during the battles he knew would start,
though many men were wounded, and some of them had died,
he kept the letter with him, it gave him strength inside,
the letter told him, all he had to know,
that his family missed him, and they loved him so,
so all you married ladies, with a husband in Iraq,
send him a little something everyday, until he finally does come back,
tell him about the children and the little things they do,
tell him how much you love him, you know he misses you,
soon this war will be over, and the killing all will end,
there will be a smile upon your face, when you welcome home,
YOUR BEST FRIEND.
written by Harry Bryant
28 August 2008 ©
all rights reserved
poem by Harry Bryant
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War Spares Nobody
He was a soldier
Far away from home
In the name of peace
He was fighting a war
In a distant country
Following the orders
Of his superiors
Killing the innocent
Old and young
Every time he put his finger
On the trigger of his gun
His heart ached
A sense of guilt crept in
He could not sleep in the night
He cried
His conscience pricked
Said to him
Killing was no solution to peace
He decided
He shall not kill anymore
Next day his superior ordered
To fire on a group of civilians
His finger
Could not pull the trigger
His boss noticed and shouted
Why are you not firing?
I’m not going to fire
On the innocents
He replied
Before the boss could say a word
A stray bullet killed the soldier
War spares nobody
In the name of peace
For no rhyme or reason
Anyone
Can be killed
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Who's Joe?
Hey Joe what you're doing?
It seems like it's all going wrong
There's a storm in the sky passing over
And it looks like it's going to be strong
You've got eyes like an old wounded soldier
They cry tears to the losts in the wind
Hey Joe
Hey Joe
Hey Joe
What are your gonna do?
I looked for you
I'll get you home
Wherever you go
Whatever you do
I've got to find you
I've got to find you (Whatever you do)
I looked for you
I'll take you there
Wherever you go
Whatever you do
I've got to find you
Whatever I do (Whatever you do)
Hey Joe what you're doing?
They say you don't care anymore
You had your heart [hurt?] by a woman
Now it doesn't work anymore
She said that you had it coming
That you were no good from the start
Hey Joe
Hey Joe
Hey Joe
Time to go home
I looked for you
I'll get you home
Wherever you go
Whatever you do
I've got to find you
I've got to find you (Whatever you do)
I looked for you
I'll take you there
Wherever you go
Whatever you do
I've got to find you
Whatever I do (Whatever I do)
Whatever I do (Whatever I do)
Whatever I do (Whatever I do)
Whatever I do (Whatever I do)
Whatever I do (Whatever I do)
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our American Soldier
I had to share this Poem; Rachel gave to me for Veterans Day, written for a class project on Veterans Day,11-11-2008.
Our American Soldier
There he lies
Covered from head to toe
Frozen and cold among the wet snow
His hands and feet he cannot feel for they are numb
The reason he is here, is not at all dumb
He is here for us, Our American Soldier
With his gun at His side, ready to aim
He sees the enemy cross his path
He knows this is anything but a game
Ready to fire, serve and Protect
Steady with his hand
From his face doth his fear reflect
Here for his country, Our American Soldier
Today is the day we stand and salute
We give our thanks and love
To he who did attribute
He represents the red, the White and the Blue
He gave it his best
To him, our hearts are kind and true
Our American Soldier
Rachel M. Gaines
11-11-2008
poem by Rachel Gaines
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Toy Soldier
I have a toy soldier that sits high up on my shelf,
I'm not allowed to play with him, so he sits there by himself,
He looks so alone, yet so handsome and tall,
As he watches over me... fighting for us all. I wish that I could reach him, just to tell him that I care,
But, I am yet too small to reach him way up there,
Even though he can't hear me, I pray for him each night,
I pray for peace on earth..so he won't have to fight. As I grew taller and wiser, I begin to understand,
That the toy soldier upon my shelf was a picture of a man.
As I reached out for it, I was able to finally see
That the toy soldier that I admired...looked just like me. Our soldiers are not wooden, they have a family somewhere,
They have wives and children and parents who care,
And though they can't hear us, we pray each night
That our toy soldiers...won't have to fight.
poem by Vickie Forrest Wiggs
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