En.Citatepedia^®.ro

From Swords to Plowshares

A field of crop
once was a battlefield (red)
now feeds a remnant -

They that survived
the young that gave up their lives
so that this plot of land

Might remain in this nation
to fly its flag
and export its blood-bought grain.

poem by Frederick Kesner
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The Only Export From One Age To The Other

the only export you can do
from one age to the other
from this world to the next
without getting any less an acquirer
is - a religion

the only all time export
the world has ever sold
with all its soul, blood and sweat
to another age is - a religon

the only export
from one age to the other
one would kill - with heart, mind and soul -
to prove what one has bought
is the real thing is - a religion

the only intangible commodity
yet powerful enough
to blow up the whole world
is - a religion

the only export
from one age to the other
wrapped in so much sweetness
tasted with as much bitterness
here and (beyond, if you have bought one)
is without doubt - religion

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Pledge Allegiance

I pledge allegiance to this land
Where heroes protect every woman and man
The flag that represents freedom and choice
The flag that gives us all a free voice
And on September 11th, when our nation was attacked
We all came together and we fought back
In the midst of terror, many heroes died
They fought to save others and in the end sacrificed their lives
They didn't think twice as they ran toward the fallen cries
All they could think about was to save those victims' lives
Though they have fallen we can still hear freedom ringing in their voice
From the battlefields to the white house we all had to learn to survive
The tragedies on September 11th left a whole nation to mourn and cry
Now we live on to protect our flag's integrity
From the people who just don't seem to see what our nation sees
Though they attack us, never will we fall
I give a salute to the firefighters and soldiers lost on that day
Together we mourn for the victims who had to lose their lives that way
But in their deaths, our nation finally saw
That no matter how much they try, together we cannot fall
So, I pledge allegiance to this land
Where heroes protect every woman and man

poem by Tamara Moir
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Part Of America Died

Part Of America Died

Somebody killed a soldier today
And part of America died

The child who shot him won't even be punished
After counsel asks his record not be tarnished
The flag of our country he swore to protect
Will be buried, with him, at his side
Today more of America died

The truck that he rode, was a battlefield too
A respite from a hard day at war
The flag of our nation won't fly at half staff
The purple heart they gave on his behalf
Won't change that a part of America died

Yes, Somebody killed a brave soldier today
It happened this day in a land, far away
While some slept in comfort, at home
A soldier put his life on the line
He answered the call then gave it his all
And on this day much of America died

Jim 1972

poem by James Casey
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Across The Battlefield

Hear the cannons roar
across the battlefield
with its pits of pain
where the dead and dying lay.
In the no man’s land
that separates friend from foe.
Hear the mournful sounds
of weeping flesh
entangled within the baptism of death.
Across the battlefield
where there are fleeting ghosts
of those who fell on another day.
One day the guns may fall silent
and flowers will once again dance
with an evening breeze.
Instead of the blood of innocence
milking the no man’s ground.
Birds may again sing one day
replacing the agony of young men
dying before their time.
In twenty, fifty or a hundred years
they will be remembered
for the sacrifice they gave,
condemning themselves to an early grave.
Maybe when that day comes
no more cannons will again roar
across the battlefield
with its pits of pain.

19 May 2009

poem by David Harris
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Tears Of Blood

On every battlefield,
the ground is stained with tears of blood.
The cruelty of war holds no bounds.
Men and boys fight together
and against each other.
Theirs deaths are just numbers
on someone’s statistics chart.
Their names are quickly forgotten
except by their loved ones.
Their bodies rot where they fell
in the no man’s land on a battlefield.
No one can make sense of the useless slaughter
by a faceless enemy across the invisible lines.
Lines drawn in the lunacy of a moment
for which hundreds will die for.
The tears of blood will fall like raindrops
from machinegun fire,
and so the crazy war goes on.
Each side losing brave men
to save some politicians face.
There is no glory in death
and wasting tears of blood on some foreign land,
just a waste of good lives.
When will it ever end?

22-23 May 2009

poem by David Harris
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The Dear Old Flag

Oh! we love that dear old flag,
That our forefathers gave
Over one hundred years ago, boys,
They once stood under that dear flag,
But now they are in their graves,
Sleeping their everlasting sleep, boys.

CHORUS:

The Union forever,
Hurrah, boys, hurrah;
Down with the traitors,
Up with the stars;
For we love that dear old flag
That our fathers fought to save
When they were fighting for our freedom.

We will rally around its standard
Every Fourth day of July,
For we dearly love our nation;
We love to see the stars and stripes
A waving up on high
Over our Union celebration.

Three cheers for the Union
And the red, white and blue,
And our forefathers that formed the constitution;
May the flag forever wave
O'er our native land so true,
May God protect our flag and nation.

poem by Julia A Moore
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A War To End All Wars, But Wasn’t

They not only fought the enemy,
but fought the elements as well.
They fought for their country
in lands far from home.
They fought rain, mud and the enemy
in trenches stained with blood
from those who had fallen there before.
They fought on and on
while the Generals watched
the slaughter from far away.
For their mistakes men died
by the score across the battlefield.
Their blood would stained the land
then and forever more.
Then came the gas
like a creeping mist across the battlefield
that silenced all in its wake.
It made no distinction to young or old,
just poisoned all it touched.
Their contorted bodies rotted where they fell.
They said this was a war to end all wars, but it wasn’t.
Almost twenty years later
men from different countries gathered to fight another war
and again in the trenches men fell.
The mechanics had changed;
machines became more prevalent across the battlefield,
still men died for small victories in the tide of war.

3 July 2008

poem by David Harris
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American Flag

I am an American, I shout
When the flag marches on by,
I am American, and I am proud
As Her glory comes to my eyes.
The flag that which I live for
Is by which the same I would die
I am proud and free, I’m an American.
And forever I pray she flies.
And on the streets of America
Upon the streets of our World
I always walk in such pride and vigor,
Whenever our flag is unfurled.

I am an American, that is me
I’ll proclaim that throughout my life,
And I’ll live the way by which she flies
Until the day, that which I die.
Inside the books of history,
And upon the winds of time,
There lives the American story,
And the flag, that could never die.
And when I have no more breath to breathe
When the Worlds fighting all is through
I will have lived and died an American
And my flag, She would have proudly flew.

I am an American and that is how I live
And that is the way I write and what I believe
Though Many will not agree with what I do or say
But liberty has gave me the right to be me.
I have gave my thoughts and soul for this land
Though proudly I known freedom through sight,
And I would shed my blood, if needed be,
And if needed, I would gladly give my life.
When I have no more breath to breathe
And when the worlds fighting is through
I will have lived and died an American
And my flag, She would have proudly flew.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
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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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Year To The Day

I woke up to yet another day
Grown to expect
Expect more of the same
Except for, for a subtle change
And that is, Im slowly fading away
Harvest moon, soon will pass
Crop is gone, left only chaff
A bitter pill, and an overcast
A flag unfurled, at half mast
A year to the day
Since you went away
A moment in time
When you were last mine
Im here standing still
With more time to kill
I barely survived
I barely survived
Like pouring salt on an open wound
Memory filling
Filling this empty room
Im as bare, Im as bare
As a barren womb
Still like the air
In a whitewash tomb
A year to the day
Since you went away
A moment in time
When you were last mine
Im here standing still
With more time to kill
I barely survived
I barely survived
Three sixty-five

song performed by by Van Halen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where cries begin when a broken tear smiles

I rest under a shady tree
Autumnal faded leaves tremble
with the peevish wind.
It looks like a Beethoven's symphony.
And I gaze at a faraway roof top flag post.
Torn flag waves in its sad rhythm
But the flag post stands straight
Like a young recruit.
Oh! If I am a newly painted flag post in the battlefield of life
Then I could have teach the flag how to show its true colors.

* To my unseen friend the silent song smith Nick Percowycz.
No palpitation heard since a long time from your territory. [Anchorville/Michigan] Are you passing well my dear?

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Bones and Blood

My body may be made of bones and blood
But I shall be needing nutrition as food
That shall be coming from holy land
Popularly and dearly known as mother land

If there is to be something precious
Than it has to be only mother and mother land
We need to take pledge that all brethrens will be friend
We shall protect them till we have life to the end

I can not remain unconcerned for what is happening around
New ideas must be infused in the people's mind and gain ground
Now self has asserted more and put before everything
The nationality, religion and cast has taken over for something

It is good to feel strongly about the nation
It is good to build the harmony and relation
It is equally good to profess the faith any religion
But it is certainly not encouraged to export terrorism in other regions

Let them have their own way of living
It is not our duty to force smaller nations in believing
Create supremacy and hegemony by force
Reduce the status of independence and guide through remote

We shall unearth all the attempts that is against our sovereignty
Side with no such activities that is aimed at sabotaging integrity
We may be poor nation but certainly protect national frontier
Compromise with no principles and create no barriers

Let each individual take an oath of secrecy
To the mother land and assure of adequacy
In the form of food grains and education
That is main burning problem and question

I shall remain vigilant against corruption
That has lead to stoppage of work with interruption
The poor are suffering and farmers are resorting to suicide
Let each one of us take the struggle ahead and spread it wide

Nation needs survival bid with resolution
Power is to shared by people with devolution
It should not be concentrated in few hands
This has given birth to autocratic trend

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The natural consequence of our submission, even in part, to the system that looks to compelling the export of raw products, the exhaustion of the land, the cheapening of labour, and the export of the labourer.

quote by Henry Charles Carey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Farmer's Value

The worker in the field plays a vital role
Without him to operate the tractors and combines
The crop will not be quickly harvested
Without workers in the field
Supply will diminish; demand will go through the roof
The human will then be carnivorous
Relying solely on the animal for food
Meanwhile, the animal eats the crop
That the worker does not harvest
I appreciate and praise the hard worker
For he is harvesting the crop I consume.

poem by Nick Leary
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The Australian Flag

PURE blue Flag of heaven
With your silver stars,
Not beside those Crosses'
Blood-stained torture-bars:
Not beside the token
The foul sea-harlot gave,
Pure blue Flag of heaven,
Must you ever wave!
No, but young exultant,
Free from care and crime,
The soulless selfish England
Of this later time:
No, but, faithful, noble
Rising from her grave,
Flag of light and liberty,
For ever must you wave!

poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
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Rain On A Scarecrow

Scarecrow on a wooden cross Blackbird in the barn
Four hundred empty acres that used to be my farm
I grew up like my daddy did My grandpa cleared this land
When I was five I walked the fence while grandpa held my hand
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
This land fed a nation This land made me proud
And Son I'm just sorry there's no legacy for you now
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
The crops we grew last summer weren't enough to pay the loans
Couldn't buy the seed to plant this spring and the Farmers Bank foreclosed
Called my old friend Schepman up to auction off the land
He said John it's just my job and I hope you understand
Hey calling it your job ol' hoss sure don't make it right
But if you want me to I'll say a prayer for your soul tonight
And grandma's on the front porch swing with a Bible in her hand
Sometimes I hear her singing "Take me to the Promised Land"
When you take away a man's dignity he can't work his fields and cows
There'll be blood on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Blood on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Well there's ninety-seven crosses planted in the courthouse yard
Ninety-seven families who lost ninety-seven farms
I think about my grandpa and my neighbors and my name
And some nights I feel like dyin' Like that scarecrow in the rain
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
This land fed a nation This land made me proud
And Son I'm just sorry they're just memories for you now
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
This land fed a nation This land made me proud
And Son I'm just sorry they're just memories for you now
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow

song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Canadian born

We first saw light in Canada, the land beloved of God;
We are the pulse of Canada, its marrow and its blood:
And we, the men of Canada, can face the world and brag
That we were born in Canada beneath the British flag.

Few of us have the blood of kings, few are of courtly birth,
But few are vagabonds or rogues of doubtful name and worth;
And all have one credential that entitles us to brag--
That we were born in Canada beneath the British flag.

We've yet to make our money, we've yet to make our fame,
But we have gold and glory in our clean colonial name;
And every man's a millionaire if only he can brag
That he was born in Canada beneath the British flag.

No title and no coronet is half so proudly worn
As that which we inherited as men Canadian born.
We count no man so noble as the one who makes the brag
That he was born in Canada beneath the British flag.

The Dutch may have their Holland, the Spaniard have his Spain,
The Yankee to the south of us must south of us remain;
For not a man dare lift a hand against the men who brag
That they were born in Canada beneath the British flag.

poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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Taxes On The Farmer Feeds Us All

(traditional, adapted by ry cooder)
(d) - (a) - (e)
(a) we worked through spring and winter, through (d) summer and through (a) fall
But the mortgage worked the hardest and the (e) steadiest of us all
It (a) worked on nights and sundays, it (d) worked each holiday
(e) settled down among us and it never went (a) away
The farmer comes to town with his wagon broken down
The farmer is the man who feeds us all
If you only look and see I know you will agree
That the farmer is the man who feeds us all
(a) the farmer is the man, the farmer is the man
He buys on his credit until (e) fall
Then they (a) take him by the hand
And they (d) lead him from his land
And the (e) merchant is the man who gets it (a) all
The farmer is the man, the farmer is the man
He lives on his credit until fall
With the interest rates so high
Its a wonder he dont die
But the taxes on the farmer feeds us all
Well, the banker says hes broke and the merchant stops and smoke
But they forget that its the farmer that feeds them all
It would put them to the test if the farmer took a rest
And theyd know that its the farmer that feeds them all
The farmer is the man, the farmer is the man
Lives on his credit until fall
Well, his pants are wearing thin
His condition, its a sin
cause the taxes on the farmer feeds us all

song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tri Color

Tri color may be furled tomorrow in the sky
We raise our head and try
Look! It is our national flag
Freedom is there and in bag

Yes, we have made progress
Clean roads are their with smooth surface
Yet we need to strive hard and chase
All our dreams that were not realized in some cases

We look towards stable nation
Cordial atmosphere with strong relation
We are seen with high hope
Our progress is constant and non stop

We lack many things
As new nation we may miss certain things
Yet some lapses are not to be forgotten
The basket is certainly having few eggs as rotten

What do we reiterate on this Independence Day?
Look towards leadership and shut the eyes any way?
No we need to improve and warn leaders
You may face same grave as ours

Millions starve for the want of food
Our crop is bumper and good
We can feed domestic people
As we as help those who are in trouble

We need warehouses and not stadiums
We need to balance with equilibrium
Grain should not rot in open
The situation should not slip out of hand and turn

Let freedom be seen in truest form
Let national wealth remain at home
Foreign help is necessary and welcome
Yet neighborhood should prove troublesome

Raise head with honor and assert
We shall be second to none in desert
We shall come up with green belt and make revolution
Country may witness real progress with firm resolution

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Touch Me Not

lock me in the dominion of your command, transgress my
spirit that is gone, limit my voice to shout the truth and leave
drops of tears to my Fatherland, let my strength drags my
immortal soul for through eternity i will free the nation from
the bondage of cruelty

the light has not stop in the whisper of the wind, the
minute leave to say for the waiting death has its prey, in the
road to step the heaven is always open for me, of where my
vacuum soul is waiting to be free, swallowed like a lion in the
dungeon that cave my heart through out the day

hold my hand my dear brother, the dawning wave capture
the sand and as the bird fly my blooming eye flies; in the
wings of an eagle, the moment of a day reach my rendition,
and ever shall i go in the end it is my way, tears cupped my
emotion, bucket my blood in the country i love

only i found the tore of my tears, swings the luminous flag
in every sun it comes, always forward and never surrender
in the soil the race will live, and in the beacon of our hearts
the nation will stand, bring the tambourine that rejoice and
the cymbals that dance in the celebration of jubilation, the
land return, nay! my days were gone leave no pain, thy
heaven best my soul refresh

i am gone, in every moment i depart, yet! in each day
you'll be laughed in the heart i remain to stay for death i live,
leaves no regret in the flag i hold, my country fears no unfold
and let every breathe fly in each spirit the nation will lives
Forever be Free..............

“ a tribute to the 2009 Philippines Independence “

poem by Antonio Liao
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