A Hymn to the Unsung Heroes
Under the green sods, lie unknown
The mighty warriors of our land.
Strong and steadfast they marched to the field,
Wielding weapons in their hand.
Their daring and their deeds of grit,
Secured freedom for our land.
Blessed be the wombs that bore,
Those dauntless men of fiery brand.
Plucked away from hearth and kin,
They oft dwelt in lands unknown.
Many a laurel they had won.
Living a dismal life forlorn.
Lay in ambush in dingy trench
Crossed swords with formidable might
Starved to death in enemy camps
Fought with verve for country's right
The resolute brigade knew no rest
Ease and comfort, they had none
To drill and discipline, they were wed
Life's winsome pleasures, they did shun
Bravely bared their manly breasts
Before triggered guns and flying bullets
Shed out every dropp of blood
To save the nation from rival blasts
Long, long may their memories last
Let every tongue their daring praise
Let the Nation bow its head
Let their deeds, our morale raise.
poem by Valsa George
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True Liberty
The day in which one celebrates, Independence of a union of states,
Independence from powers outside; freedom that was once denied,
The freest nation in this world, a point that others sometimes herald,
Causing many who are weary in heart, to come here for a fresh start.
A day of real joyous celebration, all across this now powerful nation,
As our voices together are raised, with full hearts a nation is praised,
Festive fireworks are always planned, in many cities across this land,
Celebrating what many of us see, as the greatest nation in all history.
Liberty we celebrate by proclamation, extends to all within this nation,
However that liberty extends only, to the borders of this dear country,
Beyond the borders and the sea, the nation’s people may not be free,
When many travel to other lands, freedoms turn into other’s demands.
Demands which turn into bondage, leaving this land of great privilege,
Privileges that others only dream of, as they look to this land we love,
A land that is so blessed by God, many agree, on this day with a nod,
But, forgetting Him most of the year; living so privileged, without fear.
There’s a freedom many don’t know, as their freedoms for them grow,
Liberty, from the bondage of sin, that captivates our land from within,
That freedom which we celebrate, doesn’t free men from Satan’s hate,
As the Devil leads a war against God, all across this land that we trod.
Freedom from such an evil foe, comes only when the Savior we know,
Who left all the Glory of Eternity, coming to earth to set captives free,
The only true freedom on this earth, comes to man, by a spiritual birth,
Through the Liberty in Jesus Christ, when in Him they receive New Life.
(Copyright ©07/2008)
Civilization may.........
Civilizations may emerge fresh and vanish
Remains may be found later on but not finish
Excavations may shed some light on glorious past
There may be some reasons for its extinctions very fast
How does nation emerge with historical traditions?
Deep rooted love for holy land without condition
Every citizen ready to shed blood for its pride and honor
All to defend irrespective of old or young major or minor
Nation may remain within secured boundaries
It may have all the prosperity with big industries
Peace and stability may still elude the nation
Other neighbors may not like to have good relations
How can sentiments and attachments remain intact without identity?
Stable nation with strong defense is all call of the day and necessity
Nation can only prosper and rise with strong and resolute action
We the people of nation has every right to defend without any reaction
Can any nation prosper without popular support?
Is it not essential to live as one nation with good rapport?
Does then any nation may you look towards you for any weak spot?
I think they will refrain from any mad misadventure and dare not
It will be great shame if we have to live under constant fear
It will be living death if constantly agony and pain we have to bear
Nation will pass through identity crisis and suffer with humiliation
To live under shame may add insult and find no reconciliation
It is right said “don’t ask what country is doing for you”
But ask “what you are doing for the country”
It has deep meaning in it and quiet sensible thought behind
Any nation can’t afford to go without it and reasonably find
No nation can advance and have identity of its own
If it has no clear policy and stand clearly known
At least people of other nations may look toward with a respect
They will think twice before and enter into pact
Ancient civilizations were knows for its tolerance
“Live and let others live” was slogan free from any interfearence
This always formed corner stone of policy
Liberty and freedom were not the words from mighty
Liberal thoughts must prevail and message should go across
Let there be the free world with liberty thoughts and no threats to pose
No intimidation of any sort with mutual territorial integrity in tact
Let there be free flow of people to uphold the humanity in fact
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Kargil Warfare
Words shall never describe
what a soldier is
with a family brave
loosing in wars
all they have
yet smiling to the nation's pride
such is what a soldier is
for when they came with guns and arms
the soldier faced it all
heads held high
for the nation
he was ready to die
such is the sacrifice a soldier makes
and yes!
words shall never describe
what a soldier is
Kargil was the place
this time the fight was for mother land
the soldier could not be held
he marched
without fear
smoke rose high
there on the dusty land
fought the soldier
with no fear of death
he knew beneath
he had to win
and yes he did
his land he saved
but lost many his friends
and we salute
bow our head
for our words shall never describe
what a soldier is.
poem by Areena Arora
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The Twenty-Fifth Of April
THIS day is Anzac Day!
Made sacred by the memory
Of those who fought and died, and fought and live,
And gave the best that men may give
For love of Land. It dawns once more,
And, though on alien sea and shore
The guns are silent all,
Yet we with pride recall
The deeds which gave it immortality.
Great deeds are deathless things!
The doer dies, but not the deed,
And, when upon that fateful April day
Our Anzacs, throwing all but love away,
Gave life and limb for Honour's sake,
With Freedom tremblingly at stake,
They lit a beacon-light
Imperishable, bright,
That evermore the Nation's soul shall heed.
Not Peace, not Peace alone
Can make a nation great and good
And bring it that full stature, strength, and grace
That fit it for an age-enduring place
In men's regard. Through storm and strife
It runs to sweet and noble life;
For through its veins there runs
The valour of great sons
Who died to give it stately nationhood.
This day is Anzac Day!
Made sacred by the thrilling thought
Of those who proved their souls, it reappears;
And thus 'twill dawn, and dawn through future years
Till Time our petty deeds efface,
And others, dwelling in our place,
Tell o'er, with tongue and pen,
The glorious tale again
Of how on beach and crag the Anzacs fought.
poem by Roderic Quinn
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The World’s Justice
If the sudden tidings came
That on some far, foreign coast,
Buried ages long from fame,
Had been found a remnant lost
Of that hoary race who dwelt
By the golden Nile divine,
Spake the Pharaoh's tongue and knelt
At the moon-crowned Isis' shrine-
How at reverend Egypt's feet,
Pilgrims from all lands would meet!
If the sudden news were known,
That anigh the desert-place
Where once blossomed Babylon,
Scions of a mighty race
Still survived, of giant build,
Huntsmen, warriors, priest and sage,
Whose ancestral fame had filled,
Trumpet-tongued, the earlier age,
How at old Assyria's feet
Pilgrims from all lands would meet!
Yet when Egypt's self was young,
And Assyria's bloom unworn,
Ere the mythic Homer sung,
Ere the gods of Greece were born,
Lived the nation of one God,
Priests of freedom, sons of Shem,
Never quelled by yoke or rod,
Founders of Jerusalem-
Is there one abides to-day,
Seeker of dead cities, say!
Answer, now as then, THEY ARE;
Scattered broadcast o'er the lands,
Knit in spirit nigh and far,
With indissoluble bands.
Half the world adores their God,
They the living law proclaim,
And their guerdon is-the rod,
Stripes and scourgings, death and shame.
Still on Israel's head forlorn,
Every nation heaps its scorn.
poem by Emma Lazarus
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Gains to both the invader and the invaded
Long long ago
So long ago
No one knows how long ago
There ruled a king
By name Vasanthasena
Who had an army
That was not trained
To fight enemies
And had no weaponry
They had no training camps
They had done no testing of missiles
They were just at the border
Guarding the great nation
The only thing they knew was
How to keep them self- amused
They had fun and frolic
Their main training input was
How to keep enthusiastic
Happy and innovative
How to keep laughing
Energetic and enthused
Came once an external army
To engulf and capture
The country
Our cheerful army
Greeted them
Made them feel
They have not come to fight
But to get united
With the cheers and laughter
Dropped their weapons
Joined the greeting cheerful warriors
Enjoyed the hospitality
Of the king Vasanthasena
The so called invaders
Lost track of their mission
Got dissolved in the happiness
Of the country to be invaded
They understood
If weapons win war
With a lot blood shed, miseries and loss
Love and togetherness win hearts
With no loss
But gains to both the
Invader and the invaded
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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A Day For Thanksgiving
Today we celebrate a proclamation, to thank our Gracious Lord and God.
To thank Him all across this nation, throughout this blessed land we trod.
And we thank Him for our Salvation, while with humbled hearts we nod.
We’re set apart through Sanctification, and led by Christ’s staff and rod.
Our country’s blessed in many ways, through The Lord’s Amazing Grace.
A Grace that sustains all our days, and across all this land in every place.
It is to The Lord we give our praise, while we also humbly seek His face.
For to that land that humbly prays, God shall continue His Loving Grace.
For us this country is a land of plenty, supplied by The Loving Lord above.
He reaches down while guiding many, with His awesome Grace and Love.
And God can meet the needs of any, fitting them just like a hand in glove.
So when blessed in a land of plenty, it should be God you’re thinking of.
Our Thanksgiving Day had its start, through the decision of just one man.
It is just one day that is set apart, to express thanks throughout our land.
And thankfulness is at the heart, as we acknowledge God’s Loving Hand.
Thanks each day we should impart, until all men truly come to understand.
Our country’s birth and every nation, is conceived by our Sovereign God,
Who alone deserves all men’s praise, for His sustaining and loving Grace.
A Grace that reaches down to many, drawing them to Christ and His Love,
Until He touches every single heart, of every single man upon every land.
(Copyright ©11/2005)
Sonnet: War is Inevitable at Times
When war is thrust upon a nation poor,
When peace-loving a country has to fight,
When brother is pitted against brother,
Where is the question of what’s wrong or right?
How long can you see innocent blood-shed?
How long can terrorists hold us ransom?
How long can one maintain a cooler head?
If life’s unsafe, what’s the use of freedom?
When war is inevitable- proceed;
When security is at stake- fight on;
When dignity is lost- we fight indeed;
When threatened, the battle-dress we don.
No nation rests when trumpets call to fight;
No nation sleeps when war-clouds grow by night.
5-29-2002 by Dr John Celes
poem by John Celes
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The Colored Soldiers
IF the muse were mine to tempt it
And my feeble voice were strong,
If my tongue were trained to measures,
I would sing a stirring song.
I would sing a song heroic
Of those noble sons of Ham,
Of the gallant colored soldiers
Who fought for Uncle Sam!
In the early days you scorned them,
And with many a flip and flout
Said 'These battles are the white man's,
And the whites will fight them out.'
Up the hills you fought and faltered,
In the vales you strove and bled,
While your ears still heard the thunder
Of the foes' advancing tread.
Then distress fell on the nation,
And the flag was drooping low;
Should the dust pollute your banner?
No! the nation shouted, No!
So when War, in savage triumph,
Spread abroad his funeral pall —
Then you called the colored soldiers,
And they answered to your call.
And like hounds unleashed and eager
For the life blood of the prey,
Spring they forth and bore them bravely
In the thickest of the fray.
And where'er the fight was hottest,
Where the bullets fastest fell,
There they pressed unblanched and fearless
At the very mouth of hell.
Ah, they rallied to the standard
To uphold it by their might;
None were stronger in the labors,
None were braver in the fight.
From the blazing breach of Wagner
To the plains of Olustee,
They were foremost in the fight
Of the battles of the free.
And at Pillow! God have mercy
On the deeds committed there,
And the souls of those poor victims
Sent to Thee without a prayer.
Let the fulness of Thy pity
O'er the hot wrought spirits sway
Of the gallant colored soldiers
Who fell fighting on that day!
Yes, the Blacks enjoy their freedom,
And they won it dearly, too;
For the life blood of their thousands
Did the southern fields bedew.
In the darkness of their bondage,
In the depths of slavery's night,
Their muskets flashed the dawning,
And they fought their way to light.
They were comrades then and brothers.
Are they more or less to-day?
They were good to stop a bullet
And to front the fearful fray.
They were citizens and soldiers,
When rebellion raised its head;
And the traits that made them worthy,—
Ah! those virtues are not dead.
They have shared your nightly vigils,
They have shared your daily toil;
And their blood with yours commingling
Has enriched the Southern soil.
They have slept and marched and suffered
'Neath the same dark skies as you,
They have met as fierce a foeman,
And have been as brave and true.
And their deeds shall find a record
In the registry of Fame;
For their blood has cleansed completely
Every blot of Slavery's shame.
So all honor and all glory
To those noble sons of Ham —
The gallant colored soldiers
Who fought for Uncle Sam!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Psalm 107 last part
Colonies planted; or, Nations blessed and punished.
A Psalm for New England.
When God, provoked with daring crimes,
Scourges the madness of the times,
He turns their fields to barren sand,
And dries the rivers from the land.
His word can raise the springs again,
And make the withered mountains green;
Send showery blessings from the skies,
And harvests in the desert rise.
[Where nothing dwelt but beasts of prey,
Or men as fierce and wild as they,
He bids th' oppressed and poor repair,
And builds them towns and cities there.
They sow the fields, and trees they plant,
Whose yearly fruit supplies their want;
Their race grows up from fruitful stocks,
Their wealth increases with their flocks.
Thus they are blessed; but if they sin,
He lets the heathen nations in;
A savage crew invades their lands,
Their princes die by barb'rous hands.
Their captive sons, exposed to scorn,
Wander unpitied and forlorn;
The country lies unfenced, untilled,
And desolation spreads the field.
Yet if the humbled nation mourns,
Again his dreadful hand he turns;
Again he makes their cities thrive,
And bids the dying churches live.]
The righteous, with a joyful sense,
Admire the works of Providence;
And tongues of atheists shall no more
Blaspheme the God that saints adore.
How few with pious care record
These wondrous dealings of the Lord!
But wise observers still shall find
The Lord is holy, just, and kind.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Give me your hand..
Give me your hand.
Male the right hand,
and the female the left.
You all have three lines,
which are major,
the rest are minor.
You have strong head line,
you have long life line and
a deep heart line.
Give me your hand,
Let me predict your future.
At first, about your family.
When your head is free of fear,
you may live long with few or no kids.
When your head is full of fear,
your longevity dwindle, but have many kids.
Now about your nation,
When your head is full of intelligence,
you nation will prosper with your tax money.
When your head is full of ignorance,
you will prosper evading the tax to the nation.
Give me your hand,
Let me predict your love life.
Please, do not run away.
Give me your hand..
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Indomitable Spirit
INDOMITABLE SPIRIT
Melvin Banggollay
N-inoy is jailed yet never conquered
His body has been put in a dungeon
Sealed with much pains so unheard
But still His spirit soared out of oblivion.
I got no army with powers truly feared
Nor with flickering gold of the nation
I got only an indomitable spirit unaltered
With hope and faith to die for freedom
N-inoy died fighting for our freedom
Not with goons and power of guns
But with his indomitable faith as a man
Willing to die to restore our freedom.
O-ut of his enjoyable life in Boston’s land
He journeyed back for our freedom
Even the hiss of death is really at hand
he fighted his fear to die for our freedom.
Y-ou and I and the whole eyes of nations
Witnessed the lamb of our dear freedom
Calmly faced his death without hesitation
With a bullet from fool soldiers’ arms.
They killed this young honorable man
But they can never kill the spirit of freedom
Within this man that always lives beyond
Inspiring us to fight and die for freedom.
He was the lamb of the Filipino’s freedom
Who offered his life to wake up everyone
That no one man can decide the fate of a land
For a nation’s fate lives in everybody’s hand.
poem by Melvin Banggollay
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An Influential Leader
We need today an influential leader, for a nation that has gone awry,
A man who cares much deeper, about The Lord, who reigns on High,
Who is guided in all his choices, by The Creator, who rules the skies,
And not moved by political voices, causing the country sure demise.
We need a leader who is not afraid, to stand upon the Word of God,
Marching not in the political parade, but, led by God’s staff and rod,
This to lead this now divided nation, a country which all truly cherish,
Back to God’s sure Revelation, before, as a people we surely perish.
We need a leader of more courage, who will rise up and take a stand,
Pointing all, to their blessed heritage, all across this prosperous land,
A man made of truth and integrity, who stands behind his moral guns,
Through each town and every city, long after, for office this man runs.
He will need character and fortitude, to lead a nation that’s so diverse,
For, with such a divided multitude, things ahead could only get worse.
He needs a vision sound and clear, to reach all the country as a whole,
To comfort those who fall into fear, as it speaks to this country’s soul.
A leader with God’s righteousness, who will choose to do what’s right,
To take us out of this moral mess, to lead us from darkness into light.
A leader to move the hearts of men, clear across the land that we trod,
So all of the people can say again, truly we are one nation under God.
Ode
Our patriot sires are gone,
The conqueror Death lays low
Those veterans one by one,
Who braved each other foe; --
Though on them rests death's sable pall,
Yet o'er their deeds no shade shall fall.
No, ye of deathless fame!
Ye shall not sleep unsung,
While freedom hath a name,
Or gratitude a tongue; --
Yet shall your names and deeds sublime
Shine brighter through the mists of Time.
Oh, keep your armor bright,
Sons of those mighty dead,
And guard ye well the right,
For which such blood was shed!
Your starry flag should only wave
O'er Freedom's home, or o'er your grave.
poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Parting Hymn
'DUNDEE'
FATHER of Mercies, Heavenly Friend,
We seek thy gracious throne;
To Thee our faltering prayers ascend,
Our fainting hearts are known.
From blasts that chill, from suns that smite,
From every plague that harms;
In camp and march, in siege and fight,
Protect our men-at-arms.
Though from our darkened lives they take
What makes our life most dear,
We yield them for their country's sake
With no relenting tear.
Our blood their flowing veins will shed,
Their wounds our breasts will share;
Oh, save us from the woes we dread,
Or grant us strength to bear!
Let each unhallowed cause that brings
The stern destroyer cease,
Thy flaming angel fold his wings,
And seraphs whisper Peace!
Thine are the sceptre and the sword,
Stretch forth thy mighty hand,--
Reign Thou our kingless nation's Lord,
Rule Thou our throneless land!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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A nation to be loved
I loved the nation as anybody did
Who may not prefer prosperous nation to lead?
It is great honor to be a part of any nation
Our existence has been linked with strong relation
What can be situation if we have to live under domination?
Whole of area under occupation and total subjugation
Complete control on movements and limited supply of ration
What all these speak and give indication?
You have heart, body but no soul
The nights may be threatened with the noise of owl
Not good omen for any sensible good citizens
What can be alternatives when all options are frozen?
It is deep love and belonging to nationhood
Most sacred to defend along with motherhood
Thousands of death can be preferred to defend the country
Who else will come and guard like sentry?
No one may tolerate any type of encroachment
There has to be popular rising along with movement
Invaders can not be allowed to settle
Even if we have to shed the blood in battle
The blood must boil from within
The war must be waged to force the win
The chances may look slim and very thin
Yet it is compared to slavery scene
You are seen with scant respect
The land is tied with unholy pact
How can one nation be kept under force?
Without feeling of respect and remorse?
The freedom and liberty is snatched
The nation is denied freedom and plots are hatched
National wealth is deprived of and taken away
The whole of land is under occupation and sway
The people have right to choose their own destiny
Either it comes by peaceful means or by mutiny
No piece of land can be allowed or to be used
Any illegal entry by any means can be refused
You have been forced to follow encirclement
It is at the cost of freedom and enlightenment
We are not slave to fall in line with unreasonable demand
But in fact we are to follow their ideals and brand
Many ways are adopted to encircle the land
The economic blockade or terrorist attack from foreign land
Day light murders with bomb blasts in the streets
How can we maintain harmony and greet?
Still as countrymen and citizens we are bound to act
We can resist unholy alliance and forced pacts
We can live without cloth and bread
But can not walk with dishonor on the dead
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Sacred to the Memory of “Unknown”
Oh, the wild black swans fly westward still,
While the sun goes down in glory—
And away o’er lonely plain and hill
Still runs the same old story:
The sheoaks sigh it all day long—
It is safe in the Big Scrub’s keeping—
’Tis the butcher-birds’ and the bell-birds’ song
In the gum where ‘Unknown’ lies sleeping—
(It is heard in the chat of the soldier-birds
O’er the grave where ‘Unknown’ lies sleeping).
Ah! the Bushmen knew not his name or land,
Or the shame that had sent him here—
But the Bushmen knew by the dead man’s hand
That his past life lay not near.
The law of the land might have watched for him,
Or a sweetheart, wife, or mother;
But they bared their heads, and their eyes were dim,
For he might have been a brother!
(Ah! the death he died brought him near to them,
For he might have been a brother.)
Oh, the wild black swans to the westward fade,
And the sunset burns to ashes,
And three times bright on an eastern range
The light of a big star flashes,
Like a signal sent to a distant strand
Where a dead man’s love sits weeping.
And the night comes grand to the Great Lone Land
O’er the grave where ‘Unknown’ lies sleeping,
And the big white stars in their clusters blaze
O’er the Bush where ‘Unknown’ lies sleeping.
poem by Henry Lawson
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The maple
I
It is the blood-hued maple straight and strong,
Voicing abroad its patriotic song.
II
Its daring colours bravely flinging forth
The ensign of the Nation of the North.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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Wandering To A Promise
In His early people’s wanderings, God did many miraculous things,
A cloud by day, and a fire by night, always kept God in their sight,
Providing them water from a rock, He turned their thirst into shock,
We could call it shock and awe, as The Lord provided for them all.
God would provide from on High, as He rained quail from the sky,
In the morning the people found, manna plentiful upon the ground,
Forty years of providing all needs, showing to all awesome deeds,
From the time they set out, all clothing and sandals never wore out.
Delivered into the Promised Land, with His Mighty Sovereign Hand,
With a message many would herald, to all the nations of this world,
Established by God on the earth; His chosen land of special worth,
To fulfill His Promise to Abraham, He will bless or curse each land.
The ultimate blessing for all today, is to follow God’s Eternal Way,
Which all men find in Jesus Christ, who offers all men Eternal Life,
For He is the Messiah of Israel, with His Father’s Purpose to fulfill,
And as He deals with each nation, God offers every man salvation.
Bless the nations, some God will, all who bless the nation of Israel,
Cursed are some, by condemnation, all that cursed that tiny nation.
Come to God before it gets worse, and avoid God’s Eternal Curse,
To be blessed by God abundantly, and to live with Christ Eternally.
Until then be shepherded by Christ, while living in a world of strife,
And see the amazing hand of God, as He leads with staff and rod,
Providing all you need every day, as you live on life’s Narrow Way,
To be delivered by God’s hand, into God’s Eternal Promised Land.
(Copyright ©01/2009)
A simple child of ignorance
Have I known war that dwell in the fields?
Have I known war with all it’s bloodshed?
Have I known war with the guns and cannons?
Have I known war of the Philippines?
Social Studies, what of your use?
Heroes dwell everywhere
Why praise a hero when we all are one
Why is their war different form mine?
Jose Rizal, our national hero
Wrote poems and stories that made us strong
Yet what war is yours different from mine,
When I write poems and stories just fine.
Apolinario Mabini boasts of war conquests in our land
The Katipunan, was he part of that?
They shed their bloods, but what makes them different?
For I too shed my blood in vain
I could accept Lapu-lapu in Mactan
At least he won his rebellion fine
Against the Spaniards, he drove them away
For five hundred years, so the book says
Why praise those heroes who never won
A fight in life where there was torn
Why praise those heroes who shed their blood
And yet held no glory in the mud?
I don’t know of the war in the fields
Never knew the war with those guns and things
Never knew of the blood you shed
The tears, the pain that you have bled
O heroes, forgive me for my ignorance
That I do not thank you for all you’ve done
With all the sacrifices for instance
That you have exchanged for fun
I don’t know of the life you dwell
I don’t know the food you sell
But I do know that I have my life to see
The fruit of your efforts, you’ve waited for eternity
poem by Norina Geniston
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