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The Empty Tomb

In Arlington, where valor sleeps,
there is a marble Tomb
where heroes rest whose names are known
to God and God alone.

From Korea and the fields of France
Brought here to hallowed sleep
The unknowns of our nation's wars
Are honored with a wreath.

One body from the tomb is gone-
He served in Vietnam.
The mystery of identity
Found in a shard of bone

Rededicate his empty crypt
To the missing of that war-
To honor and keep faith with them
who never have come home.

poem by John F. McCullagh
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The Soldier's Grave

Breathe not a whisper here;
The place where thou dost stand is hallowed ground;
In silence gather near this upheaved mound -
Around the soldier's bier.

Here Liberty may weep,
And Freedom pause in her unchecked career,
To pay the sacred tribute of a tear
O'er the pale warrior's sleep.

That arm now cold in death,
But late on glory's field triumphant bore
Our country's flag; that marble brow once bore
The victor's fadeless wreath.

Rest soldier, sweetly rest;
Affection's gentle hand shall deck thy tomb
With flowers and chaplets of unfading bloom
Be laid upon thy breast.

poem by Anonymous Americas
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Lonely Tombs

(e) I was strollin one day, in a lonely graveyard,
When a voice from the tomb, seemed to (b7) say,
I once (e) lived as you live, walked and talked as you talk,
But from earth I was (b7) soon called a- (e) way.
Chorus
(e) oh, those tombs, (oh those tombs),
Lonely tombs, (lonely tombs ),
Seemed to say in a low gentle (b7) tone,
Oh how (e) sweet, (oh how sweet),
Is the rest, (is the rest),
In our beautiful, (b7) heavenly (e) home.
Every voice from the tomb, seemed to whisper and say,
Livin man you must soon follow me,
And I thought as I gazed, on that cold marble slab,
What a sad lonesome place that must be.
Repeat chorus
I then came to the place, where my mother did lay,
And her voice, soft and low, from the tomb,
It said, son Im at rest, with the savior above,
I am safe in my heavenly home.
Repeat chorus

song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Thieves of Honor

The Phony Hero, the fake marine
with stolen valor, bemedalled chests.
These are the lowest of the low
Who steal the honor due our best.

Those who never took the field
Who never had to face the foe
Common thieves usurp the medals
owed to men who lie in rows.

True heroes lie in Arlington,
Or in a hundred foreign fields
Or else live private quiet lives’
And never speak about their deeds.

The thieves of honor think to gain
high office by casuistry.
But they will only garner shame
Once we expose their perfidy.

poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Home Coming

A Man who served in Vietnam
is coming home today.
He’d scarcely recognize us-
so long he’s been away.

He fought in the Tet offensive
in a city known as Hue.
Somehow, unaccountably,
when others left, he stayed.

An honor Guard escorts him,
descending from the Plane.
He is an easy burden;
a few bones, a soldiers’ name.

For years he waited patiently
for the searchers to arrive.
The dead are far more patient
than their brothers who survive.

With the help of Mother’s DNA,
to test a shard of bone, .
the private was identified,
and finally made it home.

Three volleys, fired in the air,
resound as Taps is played.
His brother, who accepts the flag,
with time has gone quite gray.

We make a promise to our men;
You’ll not be left behind.
The search goes on across the globe
another son to find.

poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Thief of Honor

The Thief of Honor

The Phony Hero, the fake marine
with their stolen valor, bemedalled chests.
These are the lowest of the low
Who steal the honors of our best.

Those who never took the field
Never came face to face with death.
Presume to wear the highest honors
And campaign ribbons on their chests.

True heroes lie in Arlington,
Or in a hundred foreign fields
Or else live quiet private lives’
And never boast about their deeds.

The thieves of honor think to gain
high office from their pilfery.
But they will only garner shame
Once we expose their perfidy.

poem by John F. McCullagh
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Shall I use sword to solve Gordian Knot

when I opened my eyes to the world,
Not only my mouth opened to
breast of my mother,
Much before that my ears were open,
And skin that sensed touch of men or woman,
Known or unknown,
Expressing that by laugh or weep,

Then slowly opened eyes to see that world,
And light entered in eyes earlier,
Now reached brain!
Then started the questions and mystery Train,
And I became as what my elders trained!

But some years later I learnt life is from womb to tomb,
That made me to sit on tomb, into which I
saw someone sleeping,
As bone and skeleton,
With that hollow skull,

Then I learnt where one day I have to Go!
I disliked to sleep there with that hollow skull

I reached there without hollow skull,
But with brainful of painful thoughts!

If tomb is my destination,
Why came from womb,
If I can't assimilate, why should I eat,
If I can't solve the puzzle, why should bother it,
If everything is fate, how best life that I can rate?

I came to home straight and
Slept in a wooden box to feel my tomb with soulful brain!

I started learning to
Go where I should go,
Go and sleep in that wooden tomb and slept well there
and became familiar with that!

Then came my mother where I
am,
When she learnt that I am in my
own tomb,
Called father to show where I
am, Both lifted me
And laughed, Kissed me and said,
'You naughty, hiding there? '

Someday I have to throw this old used scrap in the waste box called my tomb,

If life Gordian knot,
Shall I use that sword to cut the rope,
The sword of self knowledge,
which is ultimate and impatient action,
I need not go and win the world,
Only I want win myself,

Self that in me have that thrill
And the joy of solving puzzle,
Within fairness of the game?

It kills the spirit in me,
And the spirit of puzzle
If I cut the rope,
And that game is over to me!

Let me play a while,
my mother is always ready,
She takes my into her lap
I will sleep in that love that is divine,
Than sleeping here in this tomb,
Once I throw that baggage aside
That was useful always in this journey,
All fate goes to that bag and not it can come unto me,
I am that son of God,
And God has to guide me as he is always my elder,
And He is my Fate, and I am destined to play and sleep with him!

poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Certainly the Australians were buried in Korea. But I think that from Vietnam on, all the killed were brought home to America or to Australia, in our case.

quote by Peter Scott
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mockery

I met my love a-weeping,
Weeping in the night-tide pale;
Her head among the lily bloom,
Weeping by an empty tomb—
An unshut tomb.
I gently stroked her golden hair
That shone so
With the moon-glow
In the sad-sweet air.
Like playful breezes from the south
Came soft smile-dimples to her mouth;
And when again she seemed to weep
I kissed her wild-wide eyes to sleep;
While there beyond the lily bloom
I saw the watching, waiting tomb.

I left my love a-sleeping,
Sleeping in the cypress vale;
Smiling sadly in the gloom;
Sleeping in the fastened tomb—
The tight-shut tomb.
How round the tomb the moving mists
Will twirl so
When the wind blows,
That the ivy twists
And shudders round the cold grey stone:
A serpent on a crumbling throne.
While I, upon a nearby mound
Hear salt tears soaking in the ground;
But there, when’er the lilies bloom,
I hear low laughter in the tomb.

poem by Leon Gellert
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In some countries they eat dogs

I'm so sad,

beyond sad

i am mad

i think I'll cry

for all the dogs they fry

I need to scream in someones ear;

Do i make myself clear! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

You can not eat dog

You can eat a hog

even a frog (like in France)

but definitely notttttttttttttttt a dog

with big brown eyes

cooked in a burger,

served with fries?

A dog?

My best friend Snoopy

could and up in someones soup?

How low can they stoop?

In China, Philippines, Korea, Vietnam dog meat is consumed by some people, not because of starvation, but as a delicacy

poem by Milica Franchi De Luri
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Neptune's Tomb

Beneath restless wind and wave
deep in its watery crypt
silent gray hulk
eternally sleeps.

What tragedy on some high sea
doomed this traveler
to rest evermore.
In Neptune's Tomb.

Ceaselessly.
aquatic guardians patrol
in out and around
this muted monument.

What secrets
and stilled testaments
do they protect
do they conceal?

By the subdued light
from the world above
illuminated faintly.
See the shadowy silhouette.

By what grants
give alien seekers privilege
to invade freely
the still sanctity.

Would it not be
if from naught else
but respect and honor
to souls slumbering there.

To only pause and query.
What tragic misfortune rendered
such disastrous consequence?
Offer homage and pass on by.

poem by Kurt Hearth
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Arlington

I never thought that this is where Id settle down
I thought Id die an old man back in my hometown
They gave me this plot of land
Me and some other men
For a job well done
Theres a big white house, sits on a hill, just up the road
The man inside, he cried the day they brought me home
They folded up a flag
And told my mom and dad
Were proud of your son
And Im proud to be on this peaceful piece of property
Im on sacred ground, and Im in the best of company
Im thankful for those thankful for the things Ive done
I can rest in peace, Im one of the chosen ones
I made it to Arlington
I remember Daddy brought me here when I was eight
We searched all day to find out where my granddad lay
When we finally found that cross
He said Son, this is what it costs
To keep us free
Now here I am, a thousand stones away from him
He recognized me on the first day I came in
And it gave me a chill
When he clicked his heels
And saluted me
And Im proud to be on this peaceful piece of property
Im on sacred ground, and Im in the best of company
Im thankful for those thankful for the things Ive done
I can rest in peace, Im one of the chosen ones
I made it to Arlington
And every time I hear twenty-one guns
I know they brought another hero home to us
Were thankful for those thankful for the things weve done
We can rest in peace, cause we are the chosen ones
We made it to Arlington
Yeah, dust to dust
Dont cry for us
We made it to Arlington

song performed by by Trace Adkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Arlington

I never thought that this is where Id settle down
I thought Id die an old man back in my hometown
They gave me this plot of land
Me and some other men
For a job well done
Theres a big white house, sits on a hill, just up the road
The man inside, he cried the day they brought me home
They folded up a flag
And told my mom and dad
Were proud of your son
And Im proud to be on this peaceful piece of property
Im on sacred ground, and Im in the best of company
Im thankful for those thankful for the things Ive done
I can rest in peace, Im one of the chosen ones
I made it to Arlington
I remember Daddy brought me here when I was eight
We searched all day to find out where my granddad lay
When we finally found that cross
He said Son, this is what it costs
To keep us free
Now here I am, a thousand stones away from him
He recognized me on the first day I came in
And it gave me a chill
When he clicked his heels
And saluted me
And Im proud to be on this peaceful piece of property
Im on sacred ground, and Im in the best of company
Im thankful for those thankful for the things Ive done
I can rest in peace, Im one of the chosen ones
I made it to Arlington
And every time I hear twenty-one guns
I know they brought another hero home to us
Were thankful for those thankful for the things weve done
We can rest in peace, cause we are the chosen ones
We made it to Arlington
Yeah, dust to dust
Dont cry for us
We made it to Arlington

song performed by by Trace Adkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm sure it is, I'm not for any kind of war, we've been engaged in several wars since the second world war and we lost in Korea, we lost in Vietnam, they are political wars, they have nothing to do with any real threat, nor does this one.

quote by Larry Hagman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lone Pilgrim

1. I came to the place where the lone pilgrim lay,
And patiently stood by his tomb,
When in a low whisper I heard something say:
How sweetly I sleep here alone.
2. the tempest may howl and the loud thunder roar
And gathering storms may arise,
But calm is my feeling, at rest is my soul,
The tears are all wiped from my eyes.
3. the call of my master compelled me from home,
No kindred or relative nigh.
I met the contagion and sank to the tomb,
My soul flew to mansions on high.
4. go tell my companion and children most dear
To weep not for me now Im gone.
The same hand that led me through seas most severe
Has kindly assisted me home.

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Obligation Of Remembrance

Champions of freedom, each and every one;
We solemnly remember thee, for all the battles you have won,
With valor, honor, and wholly selfless dedication;
You served served God, and a country in need of your protection,
From those who sought our liberty's end;
Without regard for your own life, you stood to defend
The very precepts that make our country great!
When the call to arms came, you did not hesitate
To stand, and be counted, amongst a very select few;
Freedom is not free-its price was paid by men and women, like you!
On behalf of a grateful nation, with an obligation of remembrance,
Thank you for your sacrifice-I know this fails, as recompense,
Yet, it is all that I now possess, to bestow,
Upon so many brave souls, I had not, the honor, to know!

poem by Maurice Harris
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South East Asian Domino Checker Board Games

Korea, Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos were chosen domino countries?
Who were countries playing their new domino checker board games?
Like Korea COMMUNISTS North Vietnam had two powerful allies?

poem by Terence George Craddock
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I Have Found Me A Home

By: jimmy buffett
1973
The days drift by
They dont have names
None of the streets here look the same
And therere so many quiet places
And smilin eyes match the smilin faces
Chorus:
And I have found me a home
I have found me a home
You can have the rest of everything I own
cause I have found me a home
My ol red bike
Gets me around
To the bars and the beaches of my town
There arent many reasons I would leave
cause I have found me some peace
And the ladies arent demandin here
Theyll never ask too much
When youre comin off a cold love
Thats sure a nice warm touch
Chorus:
Yes I have found me a home
I have found me a home
You can have the rest of everything I own
cause I have found me a home
And the days drift by
They dont have names
And none of the streets here look the same
There arent many reasons I would leave
cause I have found me some peace
Yes I have found me a home
I have found me a home
You can have the rest of everything I own
cause I have found me a home
Yes I have found me a home

song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Epitaph on the Admirable Dramatic Poet W. Shakespeare

What needs my Shakespeare for his honored bones
The labor of an age in piled stones?
Or that his hallowed reliques should be hid
Under a star-ypointing pyramid?
Dear son of Memory, great heir of Fame,
What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name?
Thou in our wonder and astonishment
Hast built thy self a livelong monument.
For whilst, to th' shame of slow-endeavoring art,
Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart
Hath from the leaves of thy unvalued book
Those Delphic lines with deep impression took,
Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving,
Dost make us marble with too much conceiving,
And so sepulchred in such pomp dost lie
That kings for such a tomb would wish to die.

poem by John Milton
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In The Beginning

Ever since those wondrous days of Creation
our Lord God sleeps: we are His sleep.
And He accepted this in His indulgence,
resigned to rest among the distant stars.

Our actions stopped Him from reacting,
for His fist-tight hand is numbed by sleep,
and the times brought in the age of heroes
during which our dark hearts plundered Him.

Sometimes He appears as if tormented,
and His body jerks as if plagued by pain;
but these spells are always outweighed by the
number of His countless other worlds.

Translated by Albert Ernest Flemming

poem by Rainer Maria Rilke
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No One Remembers

No one remembers the soldier
once a hero
now
another old warrior
telling stories in the corridors
of the VA
waiting for their doctors

A timeline carved in flesh
generation by generation
WWI
WWII
Korea
Vietnam
Desert Storm
Bosnia
Afganistan
Iraq

Bodi es and minds mangled
scars visible
or hidden deep within
missing limbs
missing lives
missing time

Days fade into dusk
the old ones pass on
flags drape coffins
of the dead going home
soldier do
what soldiers always have done
and when it's all over
nobody mourns

poem by Maggie DeMay
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