Morris Island
Oh! from the deeds well done, the blood well shed
In a good cause springs up to crown the land
With ever-during verdure, memory fed,
Wherever freedom rears one fearless band,
The genius, which makes sacred time and place,
Shaping the grand memorials of a race!
The barren rock becomes a monument,
The sea-shore sands a shrine;
And each brave life, in desperate conflict spent,
Grows to a memory which prolongs a line!
Oh! barren isle--oh! fruitless shore,
Oh! realm devoid of beauty--how the light
From glory's sun streams down for evermore,
Hallowing your ancient barrenness with bright!
Brief dates, your lowly forts; but full of glory,
Worthy a life-long story;
Remembered, to be chronicled and read,
When all your gallant garrisons are dead;
And to be sung
While liberty and letters find a tongue!
Taught by the grandsires at the ingle-blaze,
Through the long winter night;
Pored over, memoried well, in winter days,
While youthful admiration, with delight,
Hangs, breathless, o'er the tale, with silent praise;
Seasoning delight with wonder, as he reads
Of stubborn conflict and audacious deeds;
Watching the endurance of the free and brave,
Through the protracted struggle and close fight,
Contending for the lands they may not save,
Against the felon, and innumerous foe;
Still struggling, though each rampart proves a grave.
For home, and all that's dear to man below!
Earth reels and ocean rocks at every blow;
But still undaunted, with a martyr's might,
They make for man a new Thermopylae;
And, perishing for freedom, still go free!
Let but each humble islet of our coast
Thus join the terrible issue to the last;
And never shall the invader make his boast
Of triumph, though with mightiest panoply
He seeks to rend and rive, to blight and blast!
poem by William Gilmore Simms
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Song 2
SUCCESS to the heroes of gallant Castile,
Undaunted in danger, victorious in fight!
May they teach proud oppressors and tyrants to feel,
The patriot's arm of invincible might!
Live in memory eternal, the deeds of the brave!
Be the warriors immortal, who fall on the field!
The garlands of summer shall bloom on their grave,
And the trophies of glory emblazon their shield!
Success to the heroes whom Albion has giv'n,
In the cause of Iberia their aid to supply;
May they wield the bright armour of Justice and Heav'n,
And wave the proud banner of Freedom on high!
May Victory attend on the patriot-band!
May the genius of Albion their bosoms inflame!
Soon may they with laurels return to their land,
Be welcom'd by Love and applauded by Fame!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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Funky Monks
There are no monks in my band
There are no saints in this land
I'll be doin' all I can
If I die an honest man
Confusion is my middle name
Ask me again I'll tell you the same
Persuaded by one sexy dame
No I do not feel no shame
You are on the road
Can I get a little lovin' from you
Can I get a little bit of that done did do (chorus)
You are on the road
Tell me now girl that you need me too
Tell me now girl cause I've got a feeling 4 you
Every man has certain needs
Talkin' 'bout them dirty deeds
To these needs I must concede
Livin' by my lowly creed
Woman please know that I'm good
Know that I did all I could
But yes it's true likelihood
Of being great is not so good
(chorus)
There are no monks in my band
There are no saints in this land
I'll be doin' all I can
If I die an honest man
Virtue slipped into my shoe
No I will not misconstrue
More rockin' more rockin' now doobley do
Dancin' down your avenue
(chorus)
song performed by by Red Hot Chili Peppers from Blood Sugar Sex Magik
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Moses The Prophet
Moses
The Prophet
Of Jews
And mine
As well
See
What is going on
In the Holy land
People are fighting
Blood of Man
Is shed
Here and there
Children
Birds
& trees
Are killed
Are killed
And every blood
Is shed
Is shed
Please
Speak to them
This is your land as well
Speak to them
All of them
To stop
Blood shed
To stop
killing children
Say sorry to God
& live in peace
Live In Peace.
poem by Eman Elbadawi
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Broken Man
I'm a broken man
This here's my broken band
From a broken land
We take the good, the bad
Yeah
I'm a broken man
From a broken land
This here's my broken band
From your hand
Yeah
I'm a broken man
This here's my broken band
From a broken land
We call Detroit City
There's no blood on these hands
That's why we came to take a stand
We take the good, we take the bad
It's all we ever -
It's all we had
Yeah
I'm a broken man [x6]
song performed by by Von Blondies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Victoria
White Star of Womanhood, whose rays
Thro’ years of peace and years of stress
Shed wide o’er all thy people’s ways
The light of nobleness—
A memory in their hearts impearled
To nerve thy sons where’er they roam—
Empress and Queen o’er half a World,
Yet Angel of the Home.
Now, when the Shadow of Death has crost
The belt of Empire, sea by sea,
The wide world weeps that freedom lost
A friend like thee,
Who strove for righteousness, who wore
A hero’s soul in woman’s breast:
God fold thee, now thy work is o’er,
In robes of rest.
Death came not to thy fearless eyes
A King of Terrors, but a friend,
Whispering: “Long years of sacrifice
At last shall end.
Sleep, for the stress of Life is o’er,
And on thy heart is laid release;
Lay down the Crown of Empire for
The Crown of Peace.”
poem by George Essex Evans
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Railroads And Riverboats
The railroads, and the riverboats, that bred the mighty man
That we read about, and we dream about
The men who built this land
And the farmers and the lumbermen and the men who worked the mills
And the poor hard working miners
Who died inside the hills
While the rivers that flow
Are the blood of our land
And the trucks they keep rumbling
On the great concrete band
And the railroads keep pushing
To be all they once were
And nature is calling
No one's listening to her
And the immigrants, by the boat load, in a dozen different tones
Sang of freedom, in the new land
Climbed the ladder rung by rung
Some to Boston, some to Pittsburg, Philidelphia and St. Paul
And the old ways, led to new days
They were welcome one and all.
While the rivers that flow
Are the blood of our land
And the trucks they keep rumbling
On the great concrete band
And the railroads keep pushing
To be all they once were
And nature is calling
No one's listening to her
With the railroads, and the riverboats, and the bread lines far behind
And the days we sang together
Long gone but still in mind
And the men who, came before us, men who brought us to today
And the story, still unravels, from the dreams of yesterday
While the rivers that flow
Are the blood of our land
And the trucks they keep rumbling
On the great concrete band
And the railroads keep pushing
To be all they once were
And nature is calling
No one's listening to her
And nature is calling,
No one's listening to her
song performed by by Jim Croce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hitting It Up With Hitler
Now, who in the world can understand?
Since Tyranny, Freedom's whittler,
And the strong-arm band of the Iron Hand
Go hitting it up with Hitler,
Who can pretend to comprehend
This curious law-and-order
When generals dropp as the guns go pop,
And the princes streak for the border.
Where is the end when friend slays friend?
And the Factious rave and thunder,
When, trial denied, high chiefs have died,
And various 'vons' gone under;
When the President vows he will resign,
And then, somehow or other,
Is moved to sign a note benign,
Saying, 'Well done, brave brother!'
Man scarcely needs such trivial deeds
As Dillinger's or Capone's,
When a leader rash with a funny moustache,
Goes bumping off his cronies
Putting the lot right on the spot,
While the common people shiver
Lest a word ill-said bring a crack on the head,
Or a pellet of lead in the liver.
Quiet homes aflood in a bath of blood
Where else in the world could it happen,
Save in the land of that queer-named band
Like Roehm and Jung and Papen?
Is it all a fight for Freedom's right,
Or for Tyranny, Freedom's whittler,
When the Blackshirts shout and the gangs go out,
Hitting it up with Hitler?
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The land that shall be (dedicated to herman anker and m. anker on the
Ocaasion of their silver-wedding, September 15, 1888)
Land that shall be
Thither, when thwarted our longings, we sail,-
Sighs to the clouds, that we breathe when we fail,
Form a mirage of rich valley and mead
Over our need,-
Visions revealing the future until
Faith shall fulfil,-
The land that shall be.
Land that shall be!
All of our labor to sow seeds of gain
Grows in the ages when
our
names shall wane,
Gathered with others', 't is stored in the true
Will to renew.
This then shall carry our labor within,
Safely within
The land that shall be.
Land that shall be!
Tears that are shed over evil's foul blight,
Blood-sweat in conflict to win higher right,
Hallow the will unto victory's cost.
Let us be lost,
Rooting out wrong, that the good we may sow,
Soon overgrow
The land that shall be.
Land that shall be!
Looming in beauty of colors and song,
Golden in sunlight that glad makes and strong,
Present in children's eyes, looking to-day
Down when you pray.
Winning good victories gives us the power
To own a brief hour
The land that shall be.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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417
the genius in each of us
lies in the ordinariness of the clothes we wear
and the odinary walk that we take on ordinary lanes
the genius of air, and sunlight, and wind
the one that gets inside us without notice
yet makes everyone live
the one that caresses us without feeling
so important and yet makes us survive
the one that refreshes us in the shores
along ships that we are in
taking us to our destinations
tell me if they have special names and special
functions
the ordinary air, the ordinary sunlight, the ordinary wind
is that not the genius of the earth
the fire, the land, the sky
are they not so ordinary for us to take and use and love?
they are the strokes of the genius of the Lord
and yet they never have names of their own
they are everywhere, they are anywhere.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Genius In Each Of Us
the genius in each of us
lies in the ordinariness of the clothes we wear
and the ordinary walk that we take on ordinary lanes
the genius of air, and sunlight, and wind
the one that gets inside us without notice
yet makes everyone live
the one that caresses us without feeling
so important and yet makes us survive
the one that refreshes us in the shores
along ships that we are in
taking us to our destinations
tell me if they have special names and special
functions
the ordinary air, the ordinary sunlight, the ordinary wind
is that not the genius of the earth
the fire, the land, the sky
are they not so ordinary for us to take and use and love?
they are the strokes of the genius of the Lord
and yet they never have names of their own
they are everywhere, they are anywhere.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Oh! Breathe Not His Name
Oh! breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade,
Where cold and unhonour'd his relics are laid:
Sad, silent, and dark, be the tears that we shed,
As the night-dew that falls on the grass o'er his head.
But the night-dew that falls, though in silence it weeps,
Shall brighten with verdure the grave where he sleeps;
And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls,
Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.
poem by Thomas Moore
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Why is there Oil?
Why is there oil I asked one night,
and a startling answer came into sight.
It’s Mother’s Earth’s blood, that is what oil is,
It’s Sacred and my blood to share.
Be wise in your pumping
Man is not to do wrong with this blood,
For it’s not to be shed so humans end up dead
for here is what she seriously said:
“You are pumping the blood right out of ME,
Which makes ME very Sad,
The spilling has greatly affected
My Land
and my Ocean,
Which has caused a commontion
.
There is a better way,
Let Your
CONSCIOUS take the LEAD…
…Please take heed.'
THE END
Copyright 2010 Christina Sunrise
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Land of the Free (c) 3-29-08
Land of the Free home of the brave
Land of disease home of the slave
Freedom of religion Freedom of speech
Freedom of press and freedom to breach
Freedom to steal freedom to take
Freedom to carry guns and Freedom to break
The laws of the man and the laws of the word
Freedom from peace but to still use the bird
The only home of brave and Land of the Free
The land who rules based off democracy
Freedom to starve and Freedom to be poor
Freedom to break and enter someone’s door
Freedom to lay off workers and close off jobs
Freedom to take what they want and to rob
Freedom of abortion Freedom of extortion
Freedom to own land and give everyone their portion
Freedom for action by any means necessary
But what their picture of that can really be scary
Freedom to wage war without our consent for our hours to be spent
Freedom to take our money then make us pay rent
Land of the prospering riches and of those who don’t care for the
People who live in the FREE old America
Copyright 3-29-08 ©® Corey Threet
PLEASE COMMENT!
poem by Corey Threet
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Why is there Oil?
Why is there oil I asked one night,
and a startling answer came into sight.
It’s Mother’s Earth’s blood, that is what oil is,
It’s Sacred and my blood to share.
Be wise in your pumping
Man is not to do wrong with this blood,
For it’s not to be shed so humans end up dead
for here is what she seriously said:
“You are pumping the blood right out of ME,
Which makes ME very Sad,
The spilling has greatly affected
My Land
and my Ocean,
Which has caused a commontion
.
There is a better way,
Let Your
CONSCIOUS take the LEAD…
…Please take heed.'
THE END
Copyright 2010 Christina Sunrise
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Suzanne & The Jewels
Suzanne was the jewel keeper
In a word she stole all the jewels
And she took them to a foreign land
Which was strictly against all the rules
And she wore them all proudly
Like a tiara crown on her head
She slept with them at night
Suzanne and the jewels in a bed
Chorus:
Suzanne and her jewels
Livin on the edge of a friend
Suzanne, how will you sleep at night
When they take that crown from your head?
Suzanne lived down by the river
The fountain of youth did flow
And she played on a steel guitar
And the drifters did come and theyd go
And shed put on her crown
And shed sing them a song
And some drifters would stay here the night
But they never did stay long
Chorus:
Suzanne and her jewels
Livin on the edge of a friend
Suzanne, how will you sleep at night
When they take that crown from your head?
This girl flew on the wind
She wrote her own name in the stars
Just goes to show sometimes you win
No matter how crazy you are
But a thief can come knocking
Even with blood on the door
And drink up your fountain of youth
And throw your jewels and your crown on the floor
Chorus:
Suzanne and her jewels
Livin on the edge of a friend
Suzanne, how will you sleep at night
When they take that crown from your head?
Suzanne and her jewels
Livin on the edge of a friend
Suzanne, how will you sleep at night
When they take that crown off your head?
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Getting Good Deeds Done
The best of good deeds,
Are not the ones discussed to be done!
The best deeds that are good...
Are those deeds lived,
And done by the ones who know
When and how to give!
Getting deeds done
Without discussions,
Weaken good intentions...
With diminishing attention given!
And spoken words without action,
Provide no satisfaction.
Although distracts with attraction,
That gets everyone talking...
And then walking away,
Just to say,
They promised they would come!
They promised to provide support...
But not get involved,
With getting good deeds done.
They see deeds as no lasting remedy!
But distortions of their involvement,
In the eyes of everyone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Scooter Boys
Scooter boys and argentineans
Europe shed the blood of the indians
Here I sit in the land of plenty
Crying about my own virginity
Hey blue blood youre nothing new
See I come from priviledge too
A chapter in the book on the americas
And your just another colonial terrorist
Scooter boys and argentineans
Europe shed the blood of the indians
Here I sit in the land of plenty
Crying about my own virginity
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
Way down south where the maya reign
Zapata reading poety in his grave
They say were stealing from the best
To feed the poor
Well they need more
Scooter boys and argentineans
Europe shed the blood of the indians
Here I sit in the land of plenty
Crying about my own virginity
Yeah
Yeah
Oh
Yeah
Yeah
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Men And Storms
Calculating and beginning comes to a man,
Knowing what stops him, believing in strength.
A substance is starting to vaporize due to heat,
Man’s heat makes sweat and anger on speech.
Sayings have shadows, deeds have a blade of decency,
So we follow the men who understand and lead.
The sky is also a person, a mighty wall of layers,
Telling everything and saying much.
The oceans partake in pleasure of storms,
Calculating like men and stopping
When sweat has dissipated.
The land surrounds the sea,
And the sea smothers the land-
The land of men, the land of deeds.
poem by Naveed Akram
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