A Member Of The Corps
He was small for a Marine,
The dying boy there in the bed.
Three times he'd fought off cancer
but now, inside his head,
a serious infection
would claim his life instead.
Cody Green was only twelve.
All his life he'd loved the Corps.
They made him a navigator,
The insignia he wore.
An honorary soldier
A marine in time of war.
The crises was upon him.
He would not win this fight
A fellow member of the Corps
Stood honor guard all night
There would be a flag draped coffin
for this member of the Corps.
Cody Green, a Young Marine
A Marine in time of war..
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Men do not fight for flag or country, for the Marine Corps or glory or any other abstraction. They fight for one another. And if you came through this ordeal, you would age with dignity.
quote by William Manchester
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Underwater
Scanning at the blue bended headlands
White flurry scudded, a dark silhouette flashes by, in the wet
It is glistening flesh
In the deep marine, in the deep marine
There is room for make believe out in the ocean
There is room for make believe out on the land
In the wet, in the dream, if its flashing then seen
In the deep marine, in the deep marine
Looking to the white framed headland
Green pockets dropping, a bright cockatoo
Circles up in the breeze, in the realm you cant reach
In the deep marine, in the deep marine
There is room for make believe out in the ocean
There is room for make believe out on the land
In the west, crashes by, its a green silhouette
In the deep marine, in the deep marine
No one can make her, no one can break her down
Underwater, over land
No one can make her, no one can break her
Underwater, over land
No one can make her, no one can break her
She is what she is and no one can bring her down, bring her down
Looking to the white framed headland
Green pockets dropping a bright cockatoo
Circles up in the breeze, in the realm you cant reach
In the deep marine, in the deep marine
There is room for make believe out in the ocean
There is room for make believe out on the land
In the wet, flashes by, its a green silhouette
In the deep marine, in the deep marine
No one can make her, no one can break her
Underwater, overland
No one can break her, no one can fake her
She it what she is and no one can bring her down, bring her down
Underwater, overland
No one can squeeze her, no one can freeze her now
No one can make her, no one can break her down
No one can seize her, no one can freeze her
She is what she is and youve got to see it
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm not scared of very much. I've been hit by lightning and been in the Marine Corps for four years.
quote by Lee Trevino
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Film on the Water
tercets, puns
Sir Rule, Ian Ballew and Ock, a marine
set off on a houseboat to study
the difference between greenish-blue and bluish-green.
The deep blue sky on that fog-foggiest of days
they mistakenly thought was the sea
which explains why to us, when they saw a green haze -
Ian whooped, 'It's a film on the water! ' And so...
Sir Rule sent Ock for popcorn and Pepsi,
Ock started to cuss, 'Why? I always have to go! '
If blue means profane and if naive spells out green,
Who wins the Oscar? It's not hard to see -
greenish-blue, naively-profane - Ock, a marine.
or if you prefer:
bluish-green, profanely-naive - still Ock, a marine.
poem by Reason A. Poteet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I have been writing for 50 years and readers still read my first book from when I was in the Marine Corps.
We also very importantly recommend continued growth in the Army and the Marine Corps end strength.
quote by John M. McHugh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have drawn inspiration from the Marine Corps, the Jewish struggle in Palestine and Israel, and the Irish.
The Marine Corps is the Navy's police force and as long as I am President that is what it will remain. They have a propaganda machine that is almost equal to Stalin's.
quote by Harry S. Truman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fit To Fly
Oh brother, man where are you
I am bucklin' from the load
I have lost my eye for color
And my heart can't see the road
Oh sister come and catch me
'Cause my legs, their prime has passed
I am breakin' from the sorrow
And my faith is fadin' fast
Mother, father help me
I'm your flesh and blood and bone
Don't you hear me, can't you see me
Am I doomed to live alone
Without warmth or love or honor
Like a dog out on the street
Am I trash 'cause I can't manage
Must I grovel at your feet
I'm the boy who fought your battles
And I'm the man who won your wars
Is it over? Have you used me?
I'm no value anymore
I'm your mothers, wives and daughters
I'm your fathers, husbands, sons
I'm the life's blood of this country
I'm the hopeful precious ones
Am I nothin'? Am I no one?
Once a fabric, now a rag
We treat people like they're nothing
We're not fit to fly, fit to fly
No, no, no, no - no, no, no
We're not fit to fly
Fit to fly a flag(no, no, no)
Join the army, see the world
The marine corps join the navy
We're not fit to fly
Fit to fly the flag
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Almost every Marine I've met says I portray a Marine dead-on, which is really, really flattering.
quote by Catherine Bell
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Well, you sort of get out of the pool room, you get out of the Marine Corps, you get out and read some literature, you become involved with people who also want to know and are ready to share some ideas about literature and thoughts, and it becomes nourished that way.
quote by Harvey Keitel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ballad Of Ira Hayes
Gather round you people and a story I will tell
About a brave young indian you should remember well
From the tribe of pima indians, a proud and a peaceful band
They farmed the phoenix valley in arizona land
Down their ditches for a thousand years the sparkling water rushed
Till their white man stole their water rights and the running water hushed
Now iras folks were hungry and their farms wene crops of weeds
But when war came he volunteers and forgot, the white mans greed
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Yes, call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
They started up iwo jima hill, 250 men
But only 27 lived to walk back down that hill again
And when the fight was over and the old glory raised
One of the men who held it high was the indian ira hayes
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
Now ira returned a hero, celebrated throughout the land
He was wined and speeched and honored, everybody shook his hand
But he was just a pima indian, no money crops, no chance
And at home nobody cared what ira had done and the wind did the indians
Dance
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
And ira started drinking hard, jail was often his home
They let him raise the flag there and lower it like youd throw a dog a bone
He died drunk early one morning, alone in the land he had fought to save
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch was the grave for ira hayes
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Yes, call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
Yes, call him, drunken ira hayes, but his land is still as dry
And his ghost is lying thirsty in the ditch where ira died
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Yes, call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No aquarium, no tank in a marine land, however spacious it may be, can begin to duplicate the conditions of the sea. And no dolphin who inhabits one of those aquariums or one of those marine lands can be considered normal.
quote by Jacques Yves Cousteau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hard Corps Not Core
As many of us go through life,
There is something that we to want help us through any strife
We feel like need more
This is what led us to be Hard Corps not Core
It made us turn from a boy to a man
As we were made to push up and down in that Paris Island Sand
Too many in this story can be said that they went to Hollywood
But I guess it is still all good
The story goes more like this
To help achieve our only wish
1st Phase us broke down
2nd Phase turned us around
3rd Phase taught how to be mean
Graduation showed the world what it takes to be a Marine
poem by Frank Pulver
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The highly skilled workers at Lima have enabled the plant to grow far beyond its original mission, now providing a wide variety of cutting-edge military vehicles and equipment to the Army, Navy, and Marine Corps.
quote by Michael Oxley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Species Protect Save Sacred Whales
water birth born
cry ocean songs...
communicative
across vast
surge arena Pacific
surf ocean songs
cry whale haunt
marine species protect
save sacred whales
all life marine species...
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two Folk Songs
I. THE SOLDIER
(Roumanian)
When winter trees bestrew the path,
Still to the twig a leaf or twain
Will cling and weep, not Winter's wrath,
But that foreknown forlorner pain-
To fall when green leaves come again.
I watch'd him sleep by the furrow-
The first that fell in the fight.
His grave they would dig to-morrow:
The battle called them to-night.
They bore him aside to the trees, there,
By his undigg'd grave content
To lie on his back at ease there,
And hark how the battle went.
The battle went by the village,
And back through the night were borne
Far cries of murder and pillage,
With smoke from the standing corn.
But when they came on the morrow,
They talk'd not over their task,
As he listen'd there by the furrow;
For the dead mouth could not ask-
How went the battle, my brothers?
But that he will never know:
For his mouth the red earth smothers
As they shoulder their spades and go.
Yet he cannot sleep thereunder,
But ever must toss and turn.
How went the battle, I wonder?
-And that he will never learn!
When winter trees bestrew the path,
Still to the twig a leaf or twain
Will cling and weep, not Winter's wrath,
But that foreknown, forlorner pain-
To fall when green leaves come again!
II. THE MARINE
(
Poitevin
)
The bold Marine comes back from war,
So kind:
The bold Marine comes back from war,
So kind:
With a raggety coat and a worn-out shoe.
'Now, poor Marine, say, whence come you,
All so kind?'
I travel back from the war, madame,
So kind:
I travel back from the war, madame,
So kind:
For a glass of wine and a bowl of whey,
'Tis I will sing you a ballad gay,
All so kind.
The bold Marine he sips his whey,
So kind:
He sips and he sings his ballad gay,
So kind:
But the dame she turns toward the wall,
To wipe her tears that fall and fall,
All so kind.
What aileth you at my song, madame,
So kind?
I hope that I sing no wrong, madame,
So kind?
Or grieves it you a beggar should dine
On a bowl of whey and the good white wine,
All so kind?
It ails me not at your ballad gay,
So kind:
It ails me not for the wine and whey,
So kind:
But it ails me sore for the voice and eyes
Of a good man long in Paradise.-
Ah, so kind!
You have fair children five, madame,
So kind:
You have fair children five, madame,
So kind:
Your good man left you children three;
Whence came these twain for company,
All so kind?
'A letter came from the war, Marine,
So kind:
A letter came from the war, Marine,
So kind:
A while I wept for the good man dead,
But another good man in a while I wed,
All so kind.'
The bold Marine he drained his glass,
So kind:
The bold Marine he drained his glass,
So kind.
He said not a word, though the tears they flowed,
But back to his regiment took the road,
All so kind.
poem by Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In addition to serving overseas, the Peace Corps' Crisis Corps Volunteers have helped their fellow Americans.
quote by Solomon Ortiz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ballad Of Ira Hayes
(peter lafarge)
Gather round me people and a story I will tell
bout a brave young indian lad, you should remember well,
From a tribe of pima indians, a proud and peaceful band
Who farmed the phoenix valley out in arizona land.
Down their ditches for a thousand years the sparkling water rushed
Till the white man stole the water rights and the running water hushed.
Iras folks was hungry, their fields grew thick with weeds,
But when war came ira volunteered and forgot the white mans greed.
Call him drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore,
Not that whiskey drinking indian or marine who went to war.
Well, they battled up iwo jima hill, two hundred and fifty men
But only twenty-seven lived to walk back down again.
And after the fight was over and old glory proudly raised,
Among the men who held her high was an indian, ira hayes.
Call him drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore,
Not that whiskey drinking indian or marine who went to war.
Well, ira hayes returned a hero, celebrated throughout the land,
He was wined and speeched and honored, everybody shook his hand.
But hes just a pima indian, no food, no friend, no chance,
And nobody cared what ira did and when do the indians dance.
Well, ira took to drinking hard, jail often was his home,
They used to let him raise the flag there and lower it just like youd throw a dog a bone.
And ira died drunk early one morning all alone in the land hed fought to save.
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch was the grave for ira hayes.
Call him drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore,
Not that whiskey drinking indian or marine who went to war.
Yeah, call him drunken ira hayes, but his land is till as dry
And his ghost, well, thats lying thirsty in the ditch where ira died.
Call him drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore,
Not that whiskey drinking indian or marine who went to war.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twist/run/repulsion
Switch the light on
We can think its dawn
Oh push along
Push along
Play a long song
Im laughing at marine
Marine laughs back
Dont like those boys
Toy soldier boys
Im lying in bed
You can play me fear
You can play me fear
Only rhythm I hear
You cut me up
With joys of life
Im going somewhere
Im going someplace
If caution is life
Then caution is sin
Contort contort contort
Ill win
These walls that close
Close in on me
Seductress shout
Seductress scream
Switch the light on
We can think its dawn
Oh push along
Push along
Pray along
Play a long song
Lyrics : j kerr music : simple minds (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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