Salute
Thousands of words or applause,
Complete silence or mere a pause,
Will do nothing or serve the purpose,
When people not react and suppose,
Civilizations old mushroomed and perished,
Continents surfaced, remained for long and finished,
Races fought relentlessly and still survived,
Was it not cherished dream this is being still revived?
Racial abuse and discrimination is still hunting,
It is biggest slur and still we ignore and counting,
No efforts or slight pressure is mounting,
No condemnation or regret amounting,
Sincere gratitude and salute,
Who rise and not remain mute
To those who refuse to surrender,
Not rest and silently wonder,
Highest honor to land and mother land,
Strongest protest with raised hand,
Refuse to accept honour from country,
Which commits abuse and bar the entry?
Thousands might have laid down,
Precious lives for city and town,
Time to remember them for bravery,
To free the world from mock slavery,
To return the honour of doctorate,
Worry for country and people to educate,
Remove the ills and totally eradiate,
Country first then honour immediate,
When country’s honour is at stake?
How to think of bread and sweet cake,
Refuse to acknowledge and accept the award,
Thousands of salute to a brave as reward
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Whose Country Is This?
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of snakes;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of many waters;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of thieves! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of oil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of earthquakes!
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of lovers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of volcanoes!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful flowers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hansome men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of roses;
Whose country is this?
it is a land ruled only by men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land without rainfall;
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by a woman;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of corruption!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pirates! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by law;
Whose country is this?
It is a land controlled by rebels!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ice;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of singers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of troubles;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of war! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land with the biggest cemetery in the wolrd!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of desert;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of trees;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant teenagers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of timber;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hatred;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of love;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of care;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of peace;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of smokers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of businesses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of harlots;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of wise people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of idiots!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of gold;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of cocoa;
Whose country is this?
It is a alnd full of crabs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of evil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of rainfalls;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ants;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of horses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pigs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of statues;
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of birds;
And so on, and so forth!
Because nature had made them so as we see them around us,
But the wise and fool live together on this earth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Country Bleeds
My country is bleeding to death,
Daily we mourn the dead and lay wreath
Could do absolutely nothing to prevent
Blasts and deaths daily occurrences as if there are no more event
Some people come on bike and strike with gun,
terrorist emerge all of sudden and shoot for the fun
People are caught in cross fire and go for the run
What a shame on earth? Are we happy under the sun?
Country’s existence and honor is at stake
Still there is no unity and people are not wake
No one thinks of humanity and survival is at sake
How to mourn death and celebrate the occasion with cake?
We expect many more such strikes if we remain discerned
People and country should have more concerns
Holy places are on hit list but who knows when?
Danger may be lurking from all over then
Enemies may strike when they are firmly placed in
outside danger may be less but more from within,
Keep them at bay and don’t let them assemble
Sacrifice will not go in vain if enemy is put in trouble
Rain water may flow on ground but blood will remain
When blood is mixed with water it will not go in drain
Don’t aggravate the situation by mere propaganda and refrain
Save country from dishonor and never complain
Asked not? What country has done for you or does?
Only offer self and it may serve purpose
Sacrifice is the only answer that lies with you
You survive or die.honour becomes due
Stop death game once for all and offer the peace best
Stop orgy of violence and unwanted or needless unrest
Come to the sense and deliver the rest
Bad phase will be over if we stand the test
Nothing has proved yet and enough is enough
Strike at the root and prove little tough
Let the enemy know, gun will match the gun
Pride and honor to be preserved and not made a fun
Will youth of today rise in arm and hunted enemy to be slained?
Salute to brave people and warning enemy not to strike again
Always ready to die by putting country first
Attempt to flush them as crisis has become worst
It is possible that you will be lost from memory
Country may be burdened more with worry
No one will remember who defended the honor
it may be by all sections including minor or major
It is not important how long did you live?
It only matter how you lived and what did you believe
So when it comes to defend the country?
You got to offer yourself and make the entry
Politicians always scrounge and people may laugh,
Words may be spoken but may not be that enough
Few rose petals may be offered by them and laid as wreath,
Tears too may be shed when stopped last breath,
What we need today is strong will power?
Not many building and no high rising towers
We should stand united and display strong will
Defeat the enemy designs and go for the kill
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mother land
Mother is dear and precious,
Not single but reasons various,
Bowing head with mind conscious,
World recognize and hold opinion continuous,
We run to her and seek refuge,
To us she is supreme and huge,
Not a word of dishonour to her honour,
Always she is their in our critical hour,
I would prefer more to serve mother,
Even heaven is offered, I won’t bother,
She always keeps flock together,
Why we go and seek blessings from other,
Mother land is no less sacred,
I lay down life rather tears to shed,
Hold the ground and never fled,
Let whole land cover with blood red,
Mother land is more precious than heaven,
To be defended with odds and even,
Not an inch to be given or bartered,
To her feet thousands of lives to be offered,
Never to question what she did for?
What I could offer in case of war?
If honour and prestige are at stake,
I will not bother about my cake,
Mother and mother land both is supreme,
Preventive steps taken even so extreme,
Nothing can be so holier than her,
I pray and worship her and no to her,
I shall deem it my duty to defend,
May not bother even many to offend,
Shall prefer the place in glorious hell,
But not desert her for self interest well
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The real heroes
Bearing the rage of elements
Far from their loved ones
Exposing their lives to danger
Yet remain firm and dedicated
To the safety of the country
They are real heroes who wake up in the night
When we are in the bed
They toil at the border
When we enjoy with our family
They also have families and friends
They also pine for them
But country is a priority for them
They forget everything for the sake of the country
They live for the country
And they die for the country
They are not among them who never miss
A single chance to earn money
And yet called heroes
These so called heroes put the honour
Of the country at stake
But our soldiers put their live at stake
To save the country from embarrassment
They are the pillars of the country.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Shall I Do For the Land that Bred Me
What shall I do for the land that bred me,
Her homes and fields that folded and fed me?—
Be under her banner and live for her honour:
Under her banner I’ll live for her honour.
CHORUS. Under her banner live for her honour.
Not the pleasure, the pay, the plunder,
But country and flag, the flag I am under—
There is the shilling that finds me willing
To follow a banner and fight for honour.
CH. We follow her banner, we fight for her honour.
Call me England’s fame’s fond lover,
Her fame to keep, her fame to recover.
Spend me or end me what God shall send me,
But under her banner I live for her honour.
CH. Under her banner we march for her honour.
Where is the field I must play the man on?
O welcome there their steel or cannon.
Immortal beauty is death with duty,
If under her banner I fall for her honour.
CH. Under her banner we fall for her honour.
poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins
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I Respect Them
I respect them though the last post for them will not be played
And never in their honour will there be a parade
And yet their anthem for peace to my ears sounds so sweet
Those peace loving peace marchers who walk along the street.
They march on in their thousands up to the City Square
Their dream is for a peaceful World a common goal they share
And yet in their honour never a peace memorial day
The people who glorify war always seem to have their way.
Not seen as heroines or heroes medals they don't have to show
And few of their life stories would wish to read or know
They only wish to make peace with those known as the foe
And from their efforts only the flower of peace can grow.
Unsung heroes and heroines is how they seem to me
They only march for a better life and a World of war that's free
They only wish to send some positive energy in the balmy evening air
To the negative and lesser enlightened in the bigger World out there.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Soldier
Once upon a time a Soldier,
Reside in the Perm Moldier;
All creatures beloved his bravery,
And praise him for his bravery.
Jealous is he in honour and seek reputation,
Full of strange oaths and quick pride;
Gorgeous is he in nature, full of agitation,
Fearless even in front of canon's slide.
Want to prove himself, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Does everything in name of his and his country honour,
Can't tolerate anyone treating nation lowel,
Stain everything with his blood who behave in this manner.
Sudden war starts with another nation,
He fought bravely in war,
Kills many of sepoy of another nation,
Lambastic like fire on them in war.
Fought till last shell and breathe remain,
And died the death of Martyr.
Tears floats in every mother's and sister's eyes,
Ah! He was such Marvellous guy.
poem by Indrajeet Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Honour Life
honour life
honour people loved
while they are here
rather than mourn
when they are gone
when it is too late
show a little sincere appreciation
for family friends life loved
saving you from empty alienation
appreciate gift love time
subtle small gifts divine
memories shine through time
to love appreciate fully now
seems a far better rational response
than to regret at fatal final hour
honour life
honour life
while it is here
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Anthony Findlay
Both for the country and for the man,
And for a country as well as a man,
'Tis better to be feared than loved.
And if this country would rather part
With the friendship of every nation
Than surrender its wealth,
I say of a man 'tis worse to lose
Money than friends.
And I rend the curtain that hides the soul
Of an ancient aspiration:
When the people clamor for freedom
They really seek for power o'er the strong.
I, Anthony Findlay, rising to greatness
From a humble water carrier,
Until I could say to thousands "Come,"
And say to thousands "Go,"
Affirm that a nation can never be good,
Or achieve the good,
Where the strong and the wise have not the rod
To use on the dull and weak.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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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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A Poem for November 28,2007
At rest, in peace, and happily,
in silence, in stillness, and joyfully,
honour yourself. Be yourself.
When you honour yourself
you honour the whole created world.
Live just this day in your glorious self.
Remember it for the rest of your life
as the day the world rested in itself,
the day we were all at rest in peace,
the day the world was a happy place
and you were glad to be that peace;
the day we were all ourself.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Few, The Brave
As proof of our remembrance, we lay a flag by each and every grave;
With perpetual solemnity, we ensure that it shall always wave
Under the free skies of the land that they and our forebears created:
For God, Duty and Country-they never hesitated
To serve with Honor and Valor for a higher purpose;
All gave some, and some gave all-all, in service
To a most grateful nation, which must always remember,
Whether on a Summer morn in May, or a blustery one in September:
If not for their bravery, indeed, their sacrifice, we'd not be free!
Surely, if I did not take time to pause, I'd not be me-
Because I stand under free skies, and make my very own choices
All because, even from hallowed graves, they provide us voices
In all we do, see, hear, touch, and feel.
No one may blind or mute us, and steal
This freedom away-we will fight as fiercely as they
Should any try-and would rather die than give it away.
This is how we need honor them, each and every day:
To live as they would have, in each and every way.
They did not die in vain, they perished as noble defenders
Of Liberty at all costs, in a world of raucous pretenders.
Their Valor was as uncommon as they were brave;
Due this Gallantry, Freedom and Democracy were saved
From the depths of tyranny, and totalitarian subjugation-
Not the cornerstones upon which to build a nation!
We, the 'many', need always appreciate 'the few, the brave':
Their sacrifice ensures that the flag shall always wave!
-Maurice Harris,29 May 2012
poem by Maurice Harris
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My Country Lied
I lack the urge but have the skill.
My country taught me how to kill.
I had no choice could not refuse
nobody asked me for my views.
They said my country needed
to subjugate the enemy.
I was still young, green and naïve.
That I was sure I should believe
that what they told me must be true.
That it was something I should do.
But I discovered in due course
we were fighting to enforce
on those with just cause for dissent.
A very unjust settlement,
the promises my country made
and did not keep. We now forbade
their self determination.
The right of every nation,
it was battle we must lose.
The people have the right to choose.
To be an independent state
no longer seen as second rate.
Which they achieved eventually
they were not just a colony.
On looking back it seems to me
my country lied apparently.
An abuse of authority
I will not forget easily.
I lack the urge but have the skill.
My country taught me how to kill.
Though I can say with confidence
I’d only kill in self defence.
23-Jun-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Freedom For Palestine! ...
My country, my people, my land
Oh do I wish to be with my people hand in hand
With all wars abolished and all pain gone
With death and pain vanished that has been accepted for very long
Oh do I hope for my country’s independence and self-rule
Oh do I wish to destroy my enemies that have been and are still cruel
With all this evil destroyed and finally stopped
Then no more dreadful missiles could be dropped
Where finally a child can sleep silently in his bed
Not worrying about the next day if he’ll be dead
Where children are happy and finally sense the feeling of fun
Where a father could finally live in peace with his son
Yes, it’s my country Palestine
A country that will always stay mine
Oh do I wish the world could just for once say no and mean it
Oh do I wish the people in this universe could just admit
That what’s going on in Palestine is totally wrong
Then the war that’s still happening would’ve not stayed for so long
I don’t see the reason on why an innocent child deserves to die
I don’t see why a mother should look at her dead children and cry
We are all people...Our differences doesn’t matter anymore
Freedom and peace is what we all should be looking for
May the Palestinian pain and misery just fade away
That’s all I pray for every single day.
poem by Marria Attar
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The City Vs. The Country
In the city where the colours run dry,
Or in the country where the farmers grow rye.
In the city where there are fees,
Or in the country where beauty is free.
In the city where there are loud crowds,
Or in the country where you can watch clouds.
In the city where you camp out in your room,
Or in the country where you have fun dancing with a broom.
In the city where there are polluting cars,
Or in the county where you can see stars.
In the city where you seal the deal,
Or in the country where you can heal.
In the city where you say later,
Or in the country where you can see the water.
In the city where space is tight,
Or in the country where you hold their hand in the moonlight.
Written by Haley McRae,14.
poem by Haley McRae
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Our Indian politicians
Clad in white clothes from top to bottom,
These bright smiling faces are the symbol of our politics,
They determine the destiny of our country,
They are worried over the country's progress
As well as their commission,
They get in the work budget,
They are busy in siphoning off people's money.
Their exterior is very bright
But the interior is very dark,
They are eating away the country
As the white ant
eats away the wood.
They are hounds in the guise of
goat,
Who eats away its own little ones.
Their palatial residence,
Their fleet of luxury cars,
Are evident
Of their illegitimate earnings,
They can put even their country at stake
To serve their petty interest.
They make people fight
In the name of religion and region,
But all is not alike,
There are few among them who are really
Concerned for the future of the country,
The country is progressing by means of such leaders,
They have love and care for the country,
They are always ready to make sacrifice for the mother land,
But their number is so low that we could count them on fingers.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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M: II: I Cannot Pay your Honour
I have sought to triumph over nothing,
have tri-ed,
have failed to -umph.
Honour is paid
By accepting honour.
By accepting honour,
I would honour trying,
would honour lack of -umph.
I cannot pay your honour.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Forgotten and Left Behind
They are forgotten and left behind
In such a dark shadow no one can reach and find
There contribution and sacrifices for beloved country?
For lots of people to suffer under weight and misery
What more you need from people withy sprit?
They came forward with head in hand and lantern dimly lit?
We all adored at that time and promised heaven
A piece of land to live with peace and dream even
Thousand were sent behind bars to face torture
Bodies were torn apart with cruel wounds from hunter
Salt subbed on the wound to create deadly pain
What were they expected in turn to gain?
It is painful to keep population under subjugation
It is mother land that is occupied with no reason
How can mother be seen daily molested and raped?
It is shameful face daily to be seen and slapped
Thousands more can perish for the holy cause
We have decided and many more may come of course
The garden may blossom any time in future
We must have motherland freed from yokes for sure
Any country would lament the sacrifices made
When ideals and principles are bypassed and bade
What makes them to disregard its people and causes?
Is it mere greed or reckless thinking and sense?
We are aliens today in our own home
Totally neglected and not welcome
What to eat and what not to dream?
A little hut, open space and sun’s beam
We may tolerate little even if that is coming from our own brethren
If they fail to bother about us and pay little concern
We are not slave and yet may not prefer so
If they are same like those of invaders then they too must go
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Companion of Honour I regarded as an award from the country for 50 years of work - which I thought was okay.
quote by Harold Pinter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Energy
Matter
It wants to play
Be a mother of singing
Waiting for the return of words
Into her womb
Sparkles between a living and dead self
And an anti self
Honour the innocence
Of its unawareness
Gravity
It wants to play
Increase decrease inside out
Strongholds
And an anti self
Honour the innocence
Of its unawareness
Time
It wants to play
Be a father of changes
It waits for nothing
But its own end
And its anti self
Honour the innocence
Of its unawareness
Space
It wants to play
Be a brother to spacious
Waiting in spasm of the dead ends
For a playful vast
And its anti self
Honour the innocence
Of its unawareness
Energy
It wants to play
Over the dimensions
Be a soul's sister
Across the humans
Free
To kill its anti self
Honour the innocence
Of its awareness
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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