Don'tAsk, Don't Tell
My buddy always had my back
While on Rotation in Iraq.
Now I hear, back in the States,
He trolls truck rest stops for his “dates”
Don’t ask, Don’t Tell
Do tell, don’t care.
They’ll drive us poor grunts to despair.
But folks in Congress just don’t care.
It didn’t matter in Iraq
If some soldier was a little WAC
He still fought against Al Qaida
while dreaming of a gay all- nighter.
Some men prefer the fairer sex,
some women do as well
Some soldiers lust for Derriere
Which ones? Don’t ask, Don’t tell.
A band of Lesbian Marines
might end the Afghan war.
The “Fighting 69th would win
And peace would reign once more.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Related quotes
The Dear John Letter
The greatest fear of a military man
Wasn’t fighting the enemy on their land.
But a dear john letter from the states
Saying that his girl couldn’t wait.
This makes him less attentive
to what’s going around
That he doesn’t pay attention
To what’s on the ground.
He won’t see that mine
That is laying there, and if he does
He just doesn’t care.
As a soldier in a war zone
You must realize that your not alone.
Your fellow soldiers depend upon you
To help see them through.
You must take care of each other
For they are your sisters and brothers.
They are there when you need a friend
And will be there to the end.
Would you prefer to receive that letter?
Or to find out that she stepped out on you?
It is a decision that is hard to do.
Your life is worth much more than a letter
And once out of the war zone things will be better.
Confide in your fellow soldiers as they confide
In you, and they will help you see it through.
When you get back to the states, then you
Can look her in the eye, and then tell her
It’s goodbye, but until then, take that letter
And tear it apart- the way she tore up your heart.
poem by Louis Rams
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I Want to be a Soldier
I will be a soldier
Only when soldiers realize
They are not animals or
cattles
Only if soldiers can ask
'Why should I shoot that
innocent man? '
I would be a soldier
If soldiers can ask the
commander
'Why should we shoot at
the children? '
I would be a soldier
If soldiers know that
The red blood that runs
through their veins
Runs in the rest peopl's too.
I would be a soldier if
Soldiers know they aren't
what they ask them to be
When they know that
The Emperor will never ask
them to kill his children
I would be a soldier
When soldiers realize war
is inhuman
When soldiers know war
always starts war
When they know that
World peace can not be
reached through war
When United Nations can
ask themselves
Is war the only way to end
corruption in the globe?
When soldiers know the
distance between peace and
war.
When soldiers realize how
intoxicative the gun is.
When soldiers realize
that gun does not control
them, but they control it.
I would be a soldier only if
soldiers know
why Martin Luther King jnr.
was killed.
If they know Adolf Hitler
also tried to make peace
through war.
I would be a soldier
If they can tell me why they
are only trained to kill.
I would be a soldier if
soldier can say
NO TO BRUTE LEADERS.
I would be a soldier if
soldiers know
the difference between
death and birth.
I would be a soldier if they
can tell
Why they are weapons of
destruction?
If they can explain why they
killed at Vietnam?
Why they killed at Somalia?
Why Ghadafi was killed
without trial?
Why Abraham Lincoln was
shot
Why Ghandi was killed,
Why they dont care if they
die in war in the name of
peace.
I would be a soldier If soldiers know they have rights If soldiers know they need Freedom. I would be a soldier If the goverments around the world realize How wonderful the world would be If the money invests in atomic weapons can be spent To feed billions of children on the streets of India, Nigeria, Brazil, South Africa The United States and all the streets of the World. I would be a soldier when soldiers can fight for liberty And not for slavery When soldiers know that nobody should think for them When soldiers know they are humans not cattles, When they realize that nobody should tell them what to think and what to feel. If soldiers can be humans, I would be a soldier.
poem by Idris Adesina
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I was a Soldier once
Old, tired, physically worn out,
With every move my muscles shout.
Woodworking, gardening, lazing about,
nothing to do but widdle and pout.
I was a Soldier once, large and strong,
I was a Soldier once, doing no wrong.
I was a Soldier once, fighting your war,
I was a Soldier once, mighty to the core.
I sit behind a desk now, slowly getting fat,
Knowing where I should really be settling my hat.
This civilian life I live, is so deadly to me,
I should, again, be a soldier, a sight to see.
I was a Soldier once, Yes Sir, No Sir, anything you say Sir.
I was a Soldier once; it was the life I preferred.
I was a Soldier once, leading from the saddle.
I was a Soldier once, living in my battle rattle.
Those that have never been one shall never know.
Those that put them down can basically go blow.
In this day and age, Soldiers protect our Freedom
In this day and age, everyone should be one.
I know this because,
I was a Soldier once, protecting you and yours.
I was a Soldier once, with back to back fighting tours.
I was a Soldier once, dying for the American way.
and although I was a Soldier once,
I should be a Soldier Now, fighting for you every day.
poem by Rik Bertrand
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War
Iraq war, any old war
all built on false pretense,
Iraq war, any old war
doesn't make any sense.
There are no winners
when wars are fought.
There are only lies
which have been bought.
Iraq war, any old war
are created by the rich.
Iraq war, any old war
creates for them a niche.
But for the ones who go and fight
and never are the same,
They go and visit a wall that's built
that's home to their brother's name.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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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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I Do Not Wish To Hear Your War Stories
Do not wish to hear your war stories of battles fought and won
Since I saw on t v this evening a mother grieve for her dead son
Her son murdered by a sniper with a bullet in his back
And I could only feel pity for this poor mother in Iraq
Of war and stories of it I do not wish to hear
Men who declare war on other people are those who rule by fear
Tell me some happy story or otherwise let me be
Your stories of war and war heroes only bore and sadden me,
Of war and it's brutality so much written and said
And in the news headlines on radio I hear of more war dead,
Tell me some happy story laughter in me provoke
Today I need a break from your war stories instead tell me a good joke
Today a mother in Iraq grieves for her murdered son
And I've heard enough of war from you of battles fought and won.
poem by Francis Duggan
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terrorism ***** SADDAM HUSSEIN IN NEW IRAQ
He was the dictator
in the old Iraq
the once fertile
the abandoned garden
of Eden rushed
It was always his
first word as the final and executory
handed down from
holocaust- master the
Austrian blood Hitler
in infamous Nazi era
and Saddam tragic death sentence
provoked his old Iraq was beaten
and democracy is running down
in new Iraq alas!
million patriots cheer!
their hearts pound firm
resurrecting freedom
in new Iraq at last!
but I am saddened
with too much grief
children's laughter today
will turn into blues
someday somehow as they grow
they will learn
their new Iraq acquired freedom
is under US Marines GI Joes custody
poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
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saddam Hussein In New Iraq
He was the dictator
in the old Iraq
the once fertile
the abandoned garden
of Eden rushed
It was always his
first word as the final and executory
handed down from
holocaust- master the
Austrian blood Hitler
in infamous Nazi era
and Saddam tragic death sentence
provoked his old Iraq was beaten
and democracy is running down
in new Iraq alas!
million patriots cheer!
their hearts pound firm
resurrecting freedom
in new Iraq at last!
but I am saddened
with too much grief
children's laughter today
will turn into blues
someday somehow as they grow
they will learn
their new Iraq acquired freedom
is under US Marines GI Joes custody
poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
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Iraqi Freedom
They have brought Saddam to justice and handed freedom back
Or at least that is what you tell me to the people of Iraq
But i always thought that freedom included freedom to live free of fear
Whilst every day from Iraq of more deaths through violence we do hear.
If you think Iraq is such a great place to live in you should try living there
And with the basic freedoms that you now enjoy your notes you can compare
For you do not seem enlightened on matters of liberty
On your ideas of Iraq i for one could not agree.
And your ideas of freedom seem quite laughable to me
How can one even know of basic freedom if of fear one can't live free
You should spend your next holiday in Iraq with your wife and family
Otherwise your ideas of freedom i cannot take seriously.
When you talk of Iraqi freedom talk is cheap and words are easily said
The only news we hear from Iraq is of more Iraqi dead
As a holiday destination Iraq i would not recommend
Unless of course you are suicidal and you wish your life to end.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Let's Remember Those Soldiers
Let's remember those soldiers
No matter alive or dead
Hold them dear to our hearts
And keep their memories in our heads
Let's remember those soldiers
As they fight on foreign lands
And pray they make it back home
Because it is all up to Gods hands
Let's remember those soldiers
And the hell they are going through
Praise them when they get home
For all they've done for me and you
Let's remember those soldiers
And their families they left behind
Should you know some of these families
Try and treat them a little more kind
Let's remember those soldiers
They are fighting for our rights
Before you go to sleep tonight
Say a prayer for them tonight
Let's remember those soldiers
And let them know that we care
But for the grace of God
We might be the ones over there
Let's remember those soldiers
And let's wish them all the best
May they all make it back home
So we all can get some rest
Let's remember those soldiers
Even ones from wars of the past
Though some are dead and gone
Let's make sure their memories last
Let's remember those soldiers
And docs and nurses in those camps
Taking care of the wounded
Let's put their faces on postage stamps
Let's remember those soldiers
And not just count them as a loss
For they are truely the ones
That pay the ultimate cost
wrote 3/7/2008 by Norman Hale Jr.
poem by Norman Hale
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The soldiers fought
The soldiers fought a fight, and went for us,
They went not thinking of themselves, and no fuss;
Some were injured. Yet in such agony they fought,
And some carried back to safety, while the enemy was sought.
Those soldiers were so very brave, fighting in our place,
Marching altogether, In order and without grace;
They never knew if they'd get back home at all,
All they did was fighting to win, the problem wasn't small.
And a lot of those brave soldiers, lost arms and legs, it's so,
But some very brave soldiers, where they died we don't know;
And this is why the legacy, we remember them, at set of sun,
And thank all these brave soldiers, for the good that was done.
poem by Margaret Haig
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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
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier soldier soldier war
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
war war war war war war war war war war war war
war war war war war war war war war war war war
war war war war war war war war war war war war
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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For Oil Not For Freedom
My heart goes to those who grieve for their war dead in war torn Iraq
Life when it is taken cannot be given back
Those who started this war from Iraq may live far away
But to Karma they do have a huge price to pay
For thousands of deaths in Iraq the pro war media terrorists do blame
But terrorism absent from Iraq before the invaders came
To excuse the war instigators of their crimes this is their way
Though they had started something brutal and ugly that does seem fair to say
Poor Iraqi mothers for their war dead left to grieve
The stories of a pro war media why should they believe
It does not take courage a life for to take
And the legacy of war is death, grief and heart-break
They cannot be brought back to life the Iraqi war dead
For oil not for freedom their blood has been shed
poem by Francis Duggan
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At The Sound Of The Drum
ARE you going for a soldier with your curly yellow hair,
And a scarlet coat instead of the smock you used to wear?
Are you going to drive the foe as you used to drive the plough?
Are you going for a soldier now?
I am going for a soldier, and my tunic is of red
And I'm tired of woman's chatter, and I'll hear the drum instead;
I will break the fighting line as you broke your plighted vow,
For I'm going for a soldier now.
For a soldier, for a soldier are you sure that you will go,
To hear the drums a-beating and to hear the bugles blow?
I'll make you sweeter music, for I'll swear another vow--
Are you going for a soldier now?
I am going for a soldier if you'd twenty vows to make;
You must get another sweetheart, with another heart to break,
For I'm sick of lies and women and the harrow and the plough,
And I'm going for a soldier now!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Every Soldier Has A Dream
After a war a soldier sometimes has to cry as dreams of those memories waters in the eye.
It's very sad when this world of ours goes to war.
Peace is the thing that soldiers have fought and died for.
With hands held in the air a soldier cries a bit but people are blind to dreams that do not fit.
Some people abuse this world but one day they'll find that they've lost their battlefields and they are unklind.
Lost battlefields and dreams with no victories won, following the forgotten hero.
Here they come.
They bury the dream because they cannot recall what it was that made the Soldier stand proud and tall.
Soldiers come from all walks of life.
Sisters.
Brothers.
Soldiers with many dreams seldom shared with others.
Soldiers who had loved ones and families back home.
Some soldiers are just children
and still on their own.
Honoured I feel to remember soldiers this way.
I salute them have I your attention I say.
Stand at ease,
fall out.
Sir nobody knew his name.
Dear God you know who he was our dream was the same.
Undaunted was the soldier in the face of fear.
No turning back.
Each soldier shed a silent tear.
But I wonder why no one hears the soldiers cry.
Listen today as soldiers go to fight and die .
Try to imagine the soldiers forgotten dream.
Keep the memory of what the Soldier
had been.
It haunts us today and remains here in our time.
Ghosts with forgotten dreams remain.
Its such a crime.
What the soldier fought for is what we must redeem,
as we look back and try to recapture the dream.
The ship's sunk and they say,
we're glad we missed the cruise.
Don't take for granted things in life we shouldn't loose.
When the battle is over and the dreams don't sit.
Every soldier must cry just a little bit.
By Paul McCann
poem by Paul McCann
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Do You Care If A Soldier Dies
take a man put him all alone
put him 12000 miles from home
empty his heart of all but blood
make him live in the sand and mud
this is the life I have to live
this is the soul to god I give
you have your parties and drink your beer
while our men are dying over here
do you care if a soldier dies
do you even have to wipe your eyes
when you turn on CNN
tell me whats going through your head
do you know what those numbers mean
one less neighbor from across the street
one less hero silent from our eyes
do you care if a soldier dies
plant your signs on the white house lawn
saying 'Get out of Iraq', were gone
use your signs and have your fun
then refuse to pick up a gun
there's nothing else for you to do
and I'm supposed to die for you
there is one thing you should know
and thats where I think you should do
do you care if a soldier dies
do you even have to wipe your eyes
when you turn on CNN
tell me whats going through your head.
do you know what those numbers mean
one less neighbor from across the street
one less hero silent in our eyes
do you care if a soldier dies
I'll hate you till the day I die
because you made my buddy cry
I saw his leg, and his blood shed
then I heard them say.. this one's dead
it was a large price for him to pay
to let you live another day
he had the guts to fight and die
to keep the freedom you live by
do you care if a soldier dies
do you even have to wipe your eyes
when you turn on CNN
tell me whats going through your head
do you know what those numbers mean
one less neighbor from across the street
one less hero silent from our eyes
do you care if a soldier dies
poem by Chris Surdyk
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In A Soldier...You Will Find...
In a soldier...
Loyalty and strength you see.
In a soldier...
Discipline, bravery.
In a soldier...
A world that is free.
In a soldier..
Sacrifice, so the world can be free.
In a soldier...
No compromise.
In a soldier...
Courage in his eyes.
In a soldier...
A special bond.
In a soldier...
Iraq, Viet-Nam.
In a soldier...
Sad, drooped eyes.
In a soldier...
Pain, when a buddy dies.
In a soldier...
Terrible places.
In a soldier...
Tough, grim faces.
In a soldier...
Stories untold.
In a soldier...
Action makes him old.
In a soldier...
Dark, frightening nights.
In a soldier...
Missing his lovely wife.
In a soldier...
Memories of a decent life.
In a soldier...
Scars deep in the mind.
In a soldier...
An exploding mine.
In a soldier...
The thrill of leaving war.
In a soldier...
No more pains anymore.
In a soldier...
No more tears.
In a soldier...
Leaving war, after a long, trying year.
poem by Philip Lore
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Life chess
It was like yesterday
that I saw two soldiers
play a game of chess,
both were just pawns
in the hands of an evil being.
They fell from the board
and were placed horizontal
right next to it,
as if their existence
didn’t really matter.
Their lives were wasted
and somewhere back in the states
their status changed to the departed,
before the game of war
had really started.
It was like yesterday
that I saw two soldiers die,
shot out of their vehicle
by a rocket propelled grenade
and splattered, scorched and burnt.
Without choice I was part of the game
and just the Lord knows
from where true courage came
and at times I and my brothers
fought the fight
to the best of our ability.
Today peace reigns
and the game is over and done
and all my brothers have gone,
but at times it all again
becomes real to me
and forever I am at war
with the demons in my soul.
[Reference: Brothers => Brothers in arms. States=> Back home in the RSA.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Empires
Empires
On the ancient road I hear roman soldiers’ footsteps, all roads lead back to an empire;
and nothing has changed the poor die in the service of their masters. The Romans took
the elites sons of country they wanted to dictate sent them to Rome trained and sent
them back and they had vassal state. It didn’t always work, loyalty became resentment
and uprising, the kept kings demanded more power. The new empire is doing the same,
sends sons and daughters of the elite, in countries they want to control, to Harvard, we
get the royal household of Jordan. Sometime it backfires and we get Osama Bin Laden.
All empires must fall it’s written in the stars, their outpost Israel, is a sacrilege, losing her
humanity. I hear tired Roman soldiers marching on roads their foes will take when they
come to crush them. Iraq is a civil war waiting to happen, Afghanistan is a lost cause and
Pakistan will never submit to foreign dominance. I hear the footsteps, the new empires’
soldiers, the urban poor, have been promised glory, and shiny medals, as always they die
for a dream not theirs. The ghosts of roman soldiers marches on through the centuries,
nothing has changed in two thousand years.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The new Congress needs to move quickly to strengthen the Army and Marines - not to send more troops to Iraq - but to rebuild our capacity to meet national security threats globally.
quote by Mark Udall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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