D - Day
The Longest Day”
June 6,1944
On those shores of Normandy
Those sixty-five years ago
There was an amphibious landing
The largest, this World would know.
Many thousands stormed those beaches
Although many, never reached the land
Washed upon, foreign sands by waves
Where, all those Heroes took their stand.
Named, Omaha, Sword and Juno
Gold and Utah, where they died
It was our foothold there in Europe
Which would not, could not, be denied.
To liberate those Countries occupied
By that terrible, Nazi war machine
Where People sought their Freedom
From the tyranny they had seen.
It made Hitler change his plans
To invade the English countryside
There’s no doubt it dashed his hopes
To, spread his rule, worldwide.
It began the march through France
Towards the Battle of Berlin
To the end of such an evilness
We hope, to never see again.
Today we Honor those who Served
All those dead and those alive
Although their numbers are dwindling
Our memories of them, will survive.
Four hundred twenty-five thousand souls
Both sides lost, before it was all done
In the Battle of Normandy
That began, that day, the “longest” one.
Del “Abe” Jones
06.06.2009
Related quotes
The 60th Anniversary of D-Day
The Jewish World has much to praise
Those that fought on that Great Day,
To release the World from tyranny great,
Which could have sealed the Jewish Fate,
Had Germany not fallen before
The Allied Armies knocking at their door.
On the beaches of Normandy they fought,
On 6th of June 1944 began that onslaught.
Those courageous men who fought and died,
Remembered by comrades still alive,
On this, the 6th June 2004,
Sixty years after they fought that war.
© Jonathan Goldman [JGthepoet] - 6 June 2004
poem by Jonathan Goldman a.k.a JGthepoet
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Meuse-Argonne
Known simply as the Offensive of the Meuse-Argonne,
Unbeknownst to most, lo,300,000+ lost, at last, won;
Labeled: 'probably the bloodiest single battle in U.S. history',
Yet, it remains to all but those most learned, a mystery!
Waged by leaders like Pershing, Liggett and Gouraud-
All those they led, gallantry and courage they did show!
Our efforts focused outside of a town named Verdun,
Most would concur, this is where the War was won!
Americans, French, even Australians, fought side-by-side-
In this righteous battle against evil, they weren't to be denied!
Some just six weeks, though these would change the world-
In the face of unspeakable tyranny, freedom, again, was unfurled!
We shan't ever forget, lest you ever, of what occured-
These grounds are hallowed,15,000 heroes, still interred!
Maurice Harris,20 October 2009
poem by Maurice Harris
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Landfall
Landfall.
Normandy, the day the allied landed,
should like the holocaust not be forgotten,
it spelt the end of a malevolent empire.
When landing crafts hit the shore, many
brave soldiers died before they could step
ashore on the golden sand of Normandy.
By blind courage and a will of steel many
soldiers got to where banks are steep
seek shelter and rest before carrying on.
This, a hard war, yet an honourable one;
there are times when wars must be fought
as we cannot afford let the world drown.
Dictators come and go, but we must not
shirk in our duty to face them squarely
and kill the darkness of their rotten souls.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Parker Clare
To a forgotten culture perhaps he now belongs
The man who could sing over a thousand songs
The father of the famous poet John Clare
Even in his own time people like him were rare.
The ballad singer of the Helpston countryside
Hundreds of the old songs he sung with him died
So little of the oral tradition now remain
Forever lost not to be found again.
Two hundred years ago one of a dying breed
Poor Parker Clare he could not write nor read
Yet through his son his name lives on today
A memory lost but yet to fade away.
He came from an oral tradition that is forever gone
Yet memories of what was still living on
And at a time when great change was happening in his English countryside
Most of the songs he sung with Parker died.
A fading memory that won't fade away
And through his son his name still lives today
Still a genius in his own right the thresher Parker Clare
And even in his time his type were quite rare.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Freedom's Battle-Song
RED, white, blue, the flag that leads us on,
Stripes as red as blood well shed by many a hero gone.
Now 'tis ours to storm the towers of tyranny and wrong,
Freedom's sons who front the guns with Freedom's battle-song.
Fly the flag from dome and steeple,
Fly the flag from home and school,
Flag of Freedom's birth,
While we battle that the rule
Of the people
By the people
For the people
Shall prevail o'er all the earth.
Red, white, blue, the flag that leads us on,
White as peace for whose release our fighting gear we don;
Peace enchained, crushed, profaned, shall yet in beauty stand,
Yet shall bless with fruitfulness her desolated land.
Fly the flag from dome and steeple,
Fly the flag from home and school,
Flag of Freedom's birth
While we battle that the rule
Of the people
By the people
For the people
Shall prevail o'er all the earth.
Red, white, blue, the flag that leads us on,
Blue as skies whose starry eyes shall see our victory won.
Freedom's sons and champions, to her our hearts are true,
We who fight for Human Right, and the Red,
White, Blue.
Fly the flag from dome and steeple,
Fly, the flag from home and school,
Flag of Freedom's birth,
While we battle that the rule
Of the people
By the people
For the people
Shall prevail o'er all the earth.
poem by Katharine Lee Bates
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Shipwreck Water
The rain dropped down at 7:20
so suddenly wasted water
harsh memories no matter how deeply buried
survive, they emerge
all my betrayed water runs
between soles of her feet
their average is torn
Normandy
wait, wait, fulfill your destiny's secret
try to find, try to find
no fear till the end of crime
that day in 1944
and a shipwreck water
Lou Ann lost her father
Lou Ann and her daughter walks from the crosses for whom they've never known
the caretaker wipes the marble face with wet sand to bring out the letters
Sometimes the faces on the marble reflect only a picture of a dark haired man in spectacles
wait, wait, fulfill our destiny's secrets
try to find, try to find
no fear till the end of crime
the day in 1944
and a shipwreck water
Lou Ann lost her father
and a shipwreck water
Lou Ann never knew her father
father, father
rain dropped down at 7:20 as we watched
harsh memories no matter how deeply buried
all my betrayed water runs
between soles of her feet
their average is torn
Normandy
and a shipwreck water
Lou Ann lost her father
and a shipwreck water
Lou Ann never knew her father, father
song performed by by Nine Days
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Day After D-day
Yes it is history
Tell that to the surviving members of his or her family
I remember only
Uncle Eddie and Cleburn(e) Mize 'Blondie'
They survived the assault on the European continent
They cracked open Nazism's door
Back on June 6th,1944
But we hear not of these heroes
But instead we hear about Casey Anthony,
Congressman Weiner's weiner
So not word is mentioned about these 18,19, and 20 year old guys
(Save Saving Private Ryan and A Band of Brothers)
hitting the beach at Normandy.
So let them not be forgotten?
We will go through Caseys and Weiners
Who knows what's on the slate for JUNE 6,2012
More dead soldiers,
Where have the flowers gone? *
They've gone to Willie McBride's**
poem by Joe Rosochacki
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Genesis BK XIX
(ll. 1167-1180) And after Cainan Mahalaleel possessed the land
and treasure many a year. The prince lived five-and-sixty
winters, and begat a son. An heir was born unto his house, and
his kinsmen called him Jared, as I have heard. Mahalaleel lived
long, enjoying bliss on earth, the joys of men, and worldly
treasure. And all the years of Mahalaleel were eight hundred
five-and-ninety winters, and he died, and gave the land and rule
unto his son.
(ll. 1180-1196) A long time Jared dealt out gold to men. He was
a righteous prince, a noble earl, dear to his kinsmen He lived
an hundred five-and-sixty winters in the world, and, when her
time was come, his wife brought forth her first-born, a goodly
son. And his name was Enoch. Eight hundred years his father
lived, and increased his tribe. And all the years of Jared were
nine hundred five-and-sixty winters, and he died, and gave the
land and rule unto his son, the wise and well-loved prince.
(ll. 1197-1217) And Enoch ruled the folk, led them in ways of
peace, and no wise let his sway and power lessen, while he was
lord over his kinsmen. Now Enoch prospered and increased his
tribe three hundred years. And God, the Lord of heaven, was
gracious unto him! In his natural body he entered into heavenly
joy and the glory of God, dying no mortal death as men do here,
the young and old, what time God taketh from them wealth and
substance and earthly treasure and their life; but with the King
of angels he departed still alive out of this fleeting life, in
the same vestments which his soul received before his mother bare
him. He left the people to his eldest son. And all the years of
Enoch were three hundred five-and-sixty winters, and he died.
(ll. 1217-1224) Then Methuselah held sway among his kinsmen, and
longest of all men enjoyed the pleasures of this world. He begat
a multitude of sons and daughters before his death. And all the
years of Methuselah were nine hundred and seventy winters, and he
died.
(ll. 1224-1236) And Lamech, his son, succeeded him and kept the
treasure. Long time he ruled the land. He lived an hundred and
two winters, and begat children. And the lord and leader of the
folk lived five hundred five-and-ninety years, enjoying many
winters under heaven, ruling the folk with wisdom. And Lamech
increased his tribe, begetting sons and daughters. He called the
name of the first-born Noah; and Noah ruled the land after the
death of Lamech.
(ll. 1237-1247) Now Noah, the lord of men, lived five hundred
winters, as the books say, and begat children. The first-born
son of Noah was Shem, and the second Ham, and the third Japheth.
And the folk grew in number under heaven, and the multitude of
the race of men increased throughout the earth. The tribe of
Seth, the well-loved prince, was still exceeding dear to God, and
blessed in His love!
O Jamaica
O Jamaica
How I missed you
Your easy gait
Mangoes and pears
I left your majestic hills
And clean sea breeze
Songs of the humming birds
Dub poets
And breadfruit trees
O Jamaica
I missed your reggae rythms
Bungo sounds
And Natty
I left for a land I knew not
A land of plenty
Was it for wealth?
Was it for pride?
No!
For knowledge, maybe
Yet I am empty
O Jamaica
I missed your beaches
And Negril
Sitting on stones reasoning
Now I get you Peter Tosh
And Muta is right too
Hardly a day goes by
That I do not think of you
It's not physical
Just an inexplicable pain
One that holds no hope
Without the LORD
I could not cope
O Jamaica
How I missed you
When will I see you again?
Dance with you again?
Land of wood and water
'No problem people'
People of hospitality
Of clean water
Where the sun never sleep
Snow-less land
Land without debt collectors
Twenty five years since I left your shores
But it feels like sixty
Twenty five years since we walk and play
But it feels like sixty
Twenty five years since I saw granny's tomb
But it feels like sixty
How are the dandelions?
Is Blue Mountain still blue?
And how is Kingston
And Montego Bay?
O Jamaica!
poem by Buxton Shippy
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The More Things Change
The more we see real change, the more things remain the same,
In regards to the world’s morality, and what moves you and me.
There’s a battle for righteousness, which is going on in all of us,
A battle opposing what is right, through evil forces of the night.
Though oblivious to it some may be, this is a battle for eternity,
A battle using hearts and minds, with many people, of all kinds.
The battle waged by Satan friend, a wicked battle, unto the end,
One warring against every soul, to get a harvest from man’s fall.
With nothing new under the sun, Satan still today uses everyone,
And his strategy’s still the same, as the Lord he’s out to defame.
Satan has one desire for all, the eternal damnation of man’s soul,
After influencing you to disbelieve, he continues only to deceive.
Satan is determined because Christ, still offers all men New Life,
Contrary to eternal death ahead, for him, who says God is dead.
It is the Devil’s unchanging ploy, to deceive all and then destroy,
And Satan today is alive and well, seducing multitudes into Hell.
All hope men have in this life, as the Devil fills hearts with strife,
Is in He, who changes not at all, Christ, who died for every soul,
His plan since Adam and Eve, is Eternal Life for all who believe,
As the last change Satan will see, is the Lake of Fire for eternity.
(Copyright ©02/2008)
On The Execution Of Timothy McVeigh
He will be long remembered due to his heinous crime
For such barbaric acts of cowardliness don't fade away in time
Because of him one hundred and sixty eight had died and he left many with horrific injuries
And memories of him will live on like all bad memories.
But before condemning Tim McVeigh we ought to not forget
That there are as bad still alive as he who will never be put to death
Who are looked upon as heroes where can one draw the line?
So many innocents have died in the name of war yet to many that seems fine.
The leaders who have ordered foreign cities to be bombed from the carnage far away
Live in happy retirement our ageing heroes of today
The blood of innocents on their hands but that seems quite okay
But the wrongs and rights of the taking of human life not for mankind to say.
The war leaders order their fighter pilots to bomb cities far away
But for acts of terror in their homeland there is all hell to pay
And Tim McVeigh for act of terrorism died tightly strapped to a chair
Whilst the one responsible for thousands of deaths lives as a free millionaire.
One seen as a villian and the other a hero though I see them as the same
For one cannot make an excuse for brutal acts of shame
One died though lethal injection the other ageing and gray
Lives in the lap of luxury and a hero still today.
poem by Francis Duggan
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There’s Always a Dawn
There were spears
There were swords
Made for hunting
Not war
Yet with it, from the blood of the innocent will create a new dawn
But war came
Great battles and fights
Many dead
Few still alive
To face the never ending dawn
A new world made
By the people who were left
Conquerors and Defeated
United in one land
A new dawn created with the help of man
The one land changed
More wars began
Famine and disease
Grew a part of that
But the dawn still remained
It was after these wars that history began
Written by the victors about
The defeated
The damned
The dawn was never mentioned- forgotten
These people
The defeated left the land
In search for a new home
Away from the wars
Searching forever for a new dawn
Perhaps they were wise
To leave with such haste
For the empire they once knew
Began to break
The dawn now remembered- the people prayed
The empire broke
The great kingdom now gone
In its place a new world just like the dawn
Still life in the world went on and on
Yet the dawn was still worshiped- never forgotten
The years past
More wars began
Countries discovered
New weapons for man
The promise man made- left to die
Centuries turned
Discoveries made
Technology found
Diseases dead
Still on and on the dawn survives
But for every technology there’s always a weapon
For every discovery there’s always a second
With one disease dead more still arrive
And with every new day a new world is created
Though the dawn still remained
So the world keeps turning
In the dark and light
For every bad thing
There’s always a light
In the dawn
In war it is Peace
In death it is Life
In disease it is the Cures
In the world it is Hope
Disguised as the dawn
Hope keeps us going
Through the bad it is strength
To do what is right, To help the world
In the light it shines, shines for the future, a brighter day
A new dawn
The earth might be in darkness
With a shadow on its edge
Waiting to consume
Till the universe is dead
The dawn still remains
But still the world keeps turning
Like the never ending dawn
Time is forever
And the universe survives
Because of the dawn
It might seem the end
Of the world that we know
But at the end of a day
There’s always mans hope
There’s always a dawn
poem by Carrie Halliday
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The Retired Commander In Chief
For one who profess a strong belief in God
To say the least I found it rather odd
That he sent his Country's troops to fight in his uncalled for war
From their home shore to a Nation afar.
A war where hundreds of thousands of people have died
Their right to life by him has been denied
Yet for his crimes against Humanity he will never pay
An honourable life in retirement is his lot today.
For most of his war dead terrorists he does blame
Terrorists his war created for to commit acts of shame
He should have known that's what happens when other Countries you invade
For conflict the price in human blood is paid.
A hero to many but a major criminal to me
He gave rise to crimes against Humanity
As well as causing thousands of deaths he destroyed the archictecture of another Land
Many in positions of power history does not understand.
The mothers of his war dead grieving today
Leave him to Karma is all one can say
His life achievements hundreds of thousands of war dead
Perhaps the power at his disposal did go to his head.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Anzac Day
Patriotic men and women from sixty down to sixteen
Rode proudly on their horses in the famed Anzac green
Followed by the women of the Red Cross in their renowned white and red
On this day every April they honour the war dead.
Up to the war memorial where a large crowd stand around
And at the front of the congregation old 'Diggers' to be found
Old veterans of World war 2 they show their years in gray
Their war medals pinned to their lapels their bravery on display.
A lone bugler played the last post to honour the war dead
And an old man who was standing near i saw him bow his head
And tears were trickling down his face his thoughts were far away
Some noble men who were his friends in foreign Country lay.
We are gathered here this morning the ageing speaker said
To commemorate true heroes our great and brave war dead
They made the ultimate sacrifice and at a young age they did die
And we have them in part to thank for the freedom we enjoy
For our soldiers who died in foreign wars for their souls let us pray
It's only to remember them that we have Anzac day
Their bones may lay in foreign fields but in history they survive
And the spirit of the Anzac is still very much alive.
He thanked the old war veterans who marched in the parade
How can we thank you enough for the sacrifice you've made
You risked your lives in cause of peace 'we salute you today'
You noble men who won the war in Country far away.
He thanked the red cross women the finest in the Land
And the bugler who played 'The Last Post' and the six piece marching band
And the horse riders dressed as Anzacs in the famed faded green
And he asked the band to finish up by playing 'God save the Queen'.
And the band played 'God save the Queen' but not 'Advance Australia Fair'
And i who doesn't believe in war could only feel aware
That in Britain they don't play the Australian anthem when they honour their war dead
Was it for Britain or Australia that young Aussie blood was shed? .
The horse riders dressed as Anzacs in the famed faded green
And the bugler played the last post and the band played 'God Save The Queen'.
And a war veteran spoke of Aussie war dead their bones in Europe lay
At least they are remembered still on every Anzac Day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Real American
November, Sixty-Seven, at the X ray landing zone
men of the seventh Calvary were outnumbered far from home..
The casualties were mounting, Charlie held the heights.
Four massed assaults repulsed that day, Terror ruled the nights
In the high grass and the heat they lay,
the wounded men and dying.
They thought their fate was set and sealed: No med-e vacs were flying.
Through shot and shell, into that hell, two brave men came flying
into the hot landing zone for the wounded men and dying.
Thirteen trips in all they made to keep some hope alive.
There are men alive today who, without them, would have died.
Ed Freeman and Bruce Crandall flew where angels feared to tread.
They bore the wounds of valor where others would have fled.
His medal of Honor was bestowed for conspicuous gallantry.
today we mourn, Ed Freeman’s gone
and Freedom’s still not free.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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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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Twenty-nine Thousand Four Hundred Seven Sunsets
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
In the early days by my mother’s side,
Though she’d often tell me of the sun and of the sea,
I seldom watched, and never for long,
The slow dissolve,
The melt and plunge,
Now you see it, now you don’t-
So many sunsets lost.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
The years of my youth were marked by friends and sport,
Often whole days on the beach-
Raging winds and mammoth waves
Or a still, glass sea, not a cloud in the sky,
And every shade in between.
I rarely fathomed the myriad shapes and colors,
An ever-changing landscape-
So very many sunsets lost.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
The middle-aged years pinned me to my work;
Yet through a window from time to time,
Or on holiday, if I risked the break,
I’d notice how lovely a sunset could be-
So very many sunsets lost forever.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
At last, in these final days, each sunset is anticipated, craved.
Regardless the mood of the sea, it will receive the sun.
No matter the face of the sky, it will let go the same.
The sun itself, always churning, always burning,
Swells with new brilliance, new radiance and splendor
Each time it approaches the sea,
Then morphs into a molten pool on the sea’s surface
Before plunging from view-
Never more a sunset lost.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
Then one glorious day,
The day of my twenty-nine thousand four hundred and sixth sunset,
And I at my usual place along the shore,
Saw the sun rise out of the sea from where it had just set!
The sun rose back up into the sky, and
In the very next moment on the very same day, it set again.
I experienced my twenty-nine thousand four hundred and seventh sunset,
The second in one day!
Oh glorious day!
A sunset gained.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
(In 2 Kings 20: 9-11 the Lord made the shadow go back 10 steps. Certainly, at that exact moment, somewhere in the world, someone saw the sun dissolve on the horizon and then rise again.)
John Masefield Was Much More Than A Poet Laureate
John Masefield was much more than a poet laureate he was indeed a verse maker supreme
His longer poems are surely masterpieces and will live for centuries or so it would seem
From his prolific pen the rhymes kept flowing he kept on penning till the day he died
No doubt about it born to be a wordsmith and greatness of him cannot be denied
John Masefield wrote the poetry of the masses and in his lifetime was famed Worldwide
His 'Reynard The Fox' the greatest hunting poem ever of the hunting people of the English countryside
His other famed longer poems 'The Daffodil Fields' and 'The Everlasting Mercy' and 'Dauber' the boy artsist who died at sea
As well as others are true masterpieces to rhyme to him seemed to come easily
His descriptive powers to say the least amazing it must be true that poets are born not made
For sixty years he was a major poet a literary icon of the wordsmith trade
John Masefield he was Ledbury's greatest poet one might say a manufacturer of rhyme
For many years he was Britain's Poet Laureate until he too lost out to father time
He truly was the poet of the people and poets of his stature as always are rare
He died an old man in his eighty ninth year with England's best he surely does compare.
poem by Francis Duggan
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As long as Nazi violence was unleashed only, or mainly, against the Jews, the rest of the world looked on passively and even treaties and agreements were made with the patently criminal government of the Third Reich.... The doors of Palestine were closed to Jewish immigrants, and no country could be found that would admit those forsaken people. They were left to perish like their brothers and sisters in the occupied countries. We shall never forget the heroic efforts of the small countries, of the Scandinavian, the Dutch, the Swiss nations, and of individuals in the occupied part of Europe who did all in their power to protect Jewish lives.
quote by Albert Einstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Freedom To My People
Dear peacekeeper
Please give freedom to my people here at home
And in the world
Some of my people have fanilies in the countries that are in war
But some of mypeople already lost their loved ones in the war in their Countries that are in war
That is because they served in the army of their country that is in the War
But they never returned home because they died fighting in the war in Their countries
So their loved ones had to pay a big price
Because at the same time they had to sacrifice their lives for their Countries at war
But my people here at home can't wait for the war to end at their Countries
So that they can go back to their countries that they came from
poem by Aldo Kraas
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