When Your Smouldering Round Bullet Pierce My Fragile Heart?
My tall brother soldier!
If your rusty gun is a guitar
Then people won't die in vain
and they listen to your
melodious voice!
But your rough fingers
The Warlords,
they trained you purposely
for the trigger
and not for strings?
My little brother soldier!
When your smouldering round bullet
pierce my fragile heart
Do you hear that
painful dying song of your father's voice?
to the Irish poet William Butler Yeats!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mother’s Cry of Late
Where for art thou, soldier?
Out East? West? –
And when? –
What part your rabid history?
And why? –
What wrought your destiny? –
For whom
You’d wreak your enmity –
I crave your fate to pen!
What comprehension of the
Order? –
‘Listen up! you men!
Raze to ground the taken land!
See they die and e’er you’ll stand, for
Death is but a grain of sand –
The mighty triumph, medal grand!
Now go you well!
Amen! ’
What sight upon the bloody lie
Of war? – your doubtful fate.
‘Where for art thou, soldier? ’ –
Your mother’s cry of late.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
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 soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
An Epitaph!
An Epitaph!
Brother Soldier!
Please convert your heavy machine gun
Into a soft guitar!
Let it be Maple, Red Oak,
Mahogany or Brazilian Rosewood
Anyway that rhythm should
Touch my wounded heart!
*for Paddy Martin in gratitude!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonata
Our brother soldier who stands at the sentry?
No sleep at all while the whole world dive in their sugary dreams.
He tastes his bitter coffee from time to time.
My dear brother you taste the life venture.
And some day you realize a better world in your daydreams.
The gun turn up a magical guitar with thousand strings and you strum.
This is the song of Unity.
“We are the brothers and sisters in one family.
And it seems that we are kings and queens without crowns.
We become decent fathers and mothers who cultivate the prosperity?
Then we distribute crops to our precious children happily.
The day seems not so far that our children would grumble and queries
What is the meaning of war Papa?
Then you have to answer clearly “It’s the cowardice of some superior lunatics.”
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Brother In Law The Soldier
my brother in law the soldier.
he was so young when he went to war..
he has turned it to a brave soldier and
and im verry proud of him
my brother in law the soldier
he is riskin his life
for our freedom..
my brother in law the soldier
deangelo hunter..
ily thanks for all your doing
we dont take enough time to
tell our soldiers overseas
how proud and thankful
we are for what they do..
poem by Dawn Hunter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Is this the dark side of the story?
A wounded soldier walks with his gun towards the enemy area.
And he found an enemy wounded soldier with his gun
But no ammunition.
He cried in difficulty; 'Please do not shoot me adjutant as I am helpless.'
Then the other soldier said; 'We are friends now and no doubt about that
But tell me Sergeant where do we go without any hindrance? '
* Really there are no enemies among human beings, all are brother & sister soldiers against the cold war of life.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sad cooing into the deep!
[Who being loved, is poor? ]-Oscar Wilde
Passing midnight
sleep boycotts,
I heard a coo
from a faraway
turtle dove's dark nest!
'On an auspicious day
You took my saintly husband away
Who's never been to a fight?
Still no letter sees
from the killing fields
and how long it takes?
When this brutal war's going to be finished? '
O I believe it's stronger than a bugle's blow
Deeper than the Ocean
And I was awake
till the dawn?
My sleepy thoughts dragged to the bygone days
We're watching the last tram in Lisbon
from the balcony of our rented lodge
And a beggar-maid who sang a lullaby
Under the Railway station's bridge.
Where's my deceased brother Rohan now?
Who's very aggressive with couple of drinks
And he wants to be a soldier, (now I realized brother not to fight with the fellow human beings but the fanatic Warlords?)
Still I remember his deep cry................................!
To my loving brother Rohan! I am so grateful to you for that nourishing soup made from throw away cherry tomatoes in Portugal.
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What You Find
There is discipline in A Soldier
you can see it when he walks,
There is honor in A Soldier
you hear it when he talks.
There is courage in A Soldier
you can see it in his eyes,
There is loyalty in A Soldier
that he will not compromise.
There is something in A Soldier
that makes him stand apart,
There is strength in A Soldier
that beats from his heart.
A Soldier isn't a title any man
can be hired to do,
A Soldier is the soul of that man
buried deep inside of you.
A Soldier's job isn't finished after
an 8 hour day or a 40 hour week,
A Soldier is always A Soldier
even while he sleeps.
A Soldier serves his country first
and his life is left behind,
A Soldier has to sacrifice what
comes first in a civilian's mind.
If you are civilian -
I am saying this to you.....
next time you see A Soldier
remember what they do.
A Soldier is the reason our land
is 'Home of the free',
A Soldier is the one that is brave
protecting you and me.
If you are A Soldier -
I am saying this to you.....
Thank God for EVERY SOLDIER
Thank God for what YOU do!
TY bohls
A Soldier- Dedicated to Nicholas Shelton
There is discipline in A Soldier you can see it when he walks,
There is honor in A Soldier you hear it when he talks.
There is courage in A Soldier you can see it in his eyes,
There is loyalty in A Soldier that he will not compromise.
There is something in A Soldier that makes him stand apart,
There is strength in A Soldier that beats from his heart.
A Soldier isn't a title any man can be hired to do,
A Soldier is the soul of that man buried deep inside of you.
A Soldier's job isn't finished after an 8 hour day or a 40 hour week,
A Soldier is always A Soldier even while he sleeps.
A Soldier serves his country first and his life is left behind,
A Soldier has to sacrifice what comes first in a civilian's mind.
If you are civilian - I am saying this to you..... next time you see A Soldier remember what they do.
A Soldier is the reason our land is 'Home of the free',
A Soldier is the one that is brave protecting you and me.
If you are A Soldier - I am saying this to you.....
Thank God for EVERY SOLDIER Thank God for what YOU do!
I thought about you Mr. Shelton, I figured this is the least I could do to thank you my friend.
poem by Caleb Jones
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Soldier Of Fortune
A soldier of fortune came home from war
And wondered what he was fighting for
This sad-eyed soldier, he broke down and cried
Oh he was so broke up inside
When will it end
When will it end
The bells toll
For those about to die
The battles over the war is won
But this soldier of fortune he will carry on
He will carry on when all hope is gone
He will carry on
Hes trained to kill and kill he will
As we march along
Singing just another soldier song
Just another soldier song
I am a soldier of fortune
Destined to keep on marching
I can hear the pipers calling
I am a soldier of fortune
Destined to keep on marching
I can hear the pipers calling
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sing a song to the poor people about the fading Heaven
Strum your old rusty strings
And open your hidden voice
Black & White of the truth
Where it stands,
Let them know how far to go?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Irish Soldier
The Irish soldier, cast for fight,
Stood to his arms at dead of night,
Watching the east, until its ray
To the battle--field should show his way;--
Soldier, soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight though they call you slave,
And though you but help a bandit hand
Uncheck'd to kill in your native land.
The soldier thought on his chance of doom--
How the trampled sod might be his tomb--
How, in evening's dusk, his sightless stare
To the small pale stars might upward glare;--
Soldier, soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight though you think of the grave--
Though it yawn so near you, black and chill,
Honor and courage man you still.
And o'er his solemn brow he made
The Christian sign, and humbly said--
``Your prayers, good saints, if I should fall;
And for mercy, O Lord, on you I call!''--
Irish soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight, although you crave
The prayers of the saints your own to aid,
And the sign of the cross on your brow have made.
The morning broke--the bugle blew--
The voice of command the soldier knew,
And stern and straight in the van he stood,
And shouting, he rush'd to the work of blood;--
Irish soldier, soldier bold,
Thousands lay round you, crimson'd and cold--
But over their bodies you still fought on,
Till down you sank as the day was won.
And the Irish soldier now hath come,
Worn, and wounded, and crippled, home,
The hated, and slander'd, and scorn'd of those
Who safely slept while he faced their foes;--
Irish soldier, soldier bold,
In your native land you now are told
'Twas traitor--blood on that field you lost,
For you call'd on the saints, and your brow you cross'd!
poem by John Banim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Next door is not just a cafe
Lovers they gather here and sit for a long time.
While sipping a beverage they plan of the future sky scrapers.
Like a shadow an unknown man stands outside
And he does a hat collection for a coffee.
Once he was a combat veteran and his jungle uniform gives an impression of his juvenile.
Though he was a brave soldier, yet he cannot send away even the fly that sits and tastes on his coffee cup.
His limbs are out of order anyway I salute you my dear brother soldier
And the war is over.
* A dedication to the Memorial Day!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Grimace of a delicacy
When he strums her heart strings,
The changeable expressions you can see on her face.
Once it's very painful and amusing too.
This rare fragile creature was not Rough clay,
It's really a precious soul but not a toy?
You please handle with a care!
You have to be more careful when the breakage occurs.
A piece of a broken heart is sharper than a razor.
To the rare nocturnal flowers
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Trumpet Voice
I live to hear my father sing
People come
Far and wide
Gathering like anchovies in a can
To hear his deep, trumpet voice
My father burns a record
Neighbors and friends
Float from their lonely birdhouses
To hear his deep, trumpet voice
My father records a tape
The family sits in the living room
Under the golden chandelier
To hear his deep, trumpet voice
My father has a CD
My brother and I sit in my room
Playing Parcheesi
We open the player
To hear his deep, trumpet voice
I lie on the city bus
One seat for my head
The other for my feet
I turn on my small, silver iPod
And zone out from the world
To hear his deep, trumpet voice
poem by Aury Cecile
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
An American Soldier
Proud to be in the Army
A government Agent
Sent across the sea
This is an American Soldier
Dressed in a uniform
To show his allegiance
And weather the storm
This is an American Soldier
Sworn to protect you and I
Defender of freedom
and willing to die
This is an American Soldier
Given a secret mission
He completes his orders
Through strong ambition
This is an American Soldier
In foreign lands he attends
To the fallen soldiers
Whose wounds need to mend
This is an American Soldier
Upon his return he cries
Becoming a hero
He says his goodbyes
This is an American Soldier
Gratified our nation stands
With heads held high we aim
To honor this man
This is an American Soldier
A soldier is what you see
More than a warrior
He is part of me
This is an American Soldier
…This is my brother
An American Soldier
© 2009 Tracey Marquart
poem by Tracey Marquart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My brother, his own father.
I have a brother,
When he was young, He was carefree,
I have a brother,
All grown up now, no more not free
I have a brother,
Who struggles to survive
I have a brother, at times be vain
Took my father in, took my father's pain.
I have a brother,
Who takes care of my mother,
Bless him, my brother,
He became his own father.
Copyright Philo Yan August 25,2012
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Soldier!
You are my soldier
A bright and wise man
You say you have tought me all you can
I wish i could have told you
How much i apreachated it
but now your lieing here
In your death bed
it that patched sut
I see what you have done
To our trops
It makes me fill spacial
When i see your name
On the hall of fame
I think to mi self that, that is
My big brother, but not only my big
Brother, my soul, my life, my everything
but most of all he is...
My Soldier!
poem by Kirsten George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!