Nigerian Biafran War
The Biafrans cry separate
Nigerians cry we are one
The Nigerians and Biafrans
in a royal rumble
For non would submit to humble
as non would come to agreement
so they decided to fumble
and settle themselves on the battle field
The Nigerian soldiers fully prepared
Biafran soldiers thought they were ready
the opposing soldiers were excited
on the day of thier first outing
The soldiers filled with joy
the men filled with hatred
the women filled with fear
and the children with innocence
A bomb blast is heard
the soldiers quack their guns
the men getting ready to attack
the women in absolute confussion
The youths pick up weapons
the children sheding out blood
the soldiers held unto thier triggers
as men fell like woods
The rich flying abroad
the poor into the bush
women and children trampled
while some died at the instance
The children cries are heard
the shout of the women aswell
the grumbling of the men
and the mummuring of the youths
Nigerian soldiers chant their war songs
as they return with Biafrans defeated
though they still cry separate
the echoes of oneness is louder
The bodies of the dead were gathered
and the injured too
non could bear to stand and stare
at the worst of scenes
Women and children cried out thier hearts
the men were left with shocks
as every one reaised that war means death
and the reign of peace brings life
poem by Micheal Udenyi
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Related quotes
I Want to be a Soldier
I will be a soldier
Only when soldiers realize
They are not animals or
cattles
Only if soldiers can ask
'Why should I shoot that
innocent man? '
I would be a soldier
If soldiers can ask the
commander
'Why should we shoot at
the children? '
I would be a soldier
If soldiers know that
The red blood that runs
through their veins
Runs in the rest peopl's too.
I would be a soldier if
Soldiers know they aren't
what they ask them to be
When they know that
The Emperor will never ask
them to kill his children
I would be a soldier
When soldiers realize war
is inhuman
When soldiers know war
always starts war
When they know that
World peace can not be
reached through war
When United Nations can
ask themselves
Is war the only way to end
corruption in the globe?
When soldiers know the
distance between peace and
war.
When soldiers realize how
intoxicative the gun is.
When soldiers realize
that gun does not control
them, but they control it.
I would be a soldier only if
soldiers know
why Martin Luther King jnr.
was killed.
If they know Adolf Hitler
also tried to make peace
through war.
I would be a soldier
If they can tell me why they
are only trained to kill.
I would be a soldier if
soldier can say
NO TO BRUTE LEADERS.
I would be a soldier if
soldiers know
the difference between
death and birth.
I would be a soldier if they
can tell
Why they are weapons of
destruction?
If they can explain why they
killed at Vietnam?
Why they killed at Somalia?
Why Ghadafi was killed
without trial?
Why Abraham Lincoln was
shot
Why Ghandi was killed,
Why they dont care if they
die in war in the name of
peace.
I would be a soldier If soldiers know they have rights If soldiers know they need Freedom. I would be a soldier If the goverments around the world realize How wonderful the world would be If the money invests in atomic weapons can be spent To feed billions of children on the streets of India, Nigeria, Brazil, South Africa The United States and all the streets of the World. I would be a soldier when soldiers can fight for liberty And not for slavery When soldiers know that nobody should think for them When soldiers know they are humans not cattles, When they realize that nobody should tell them what to think and what to feel. If soldiers can be humans, I would be a soldier.
poem by Idris Adesina
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Soldier (not really a poem)
the american revolution was fought witha new breed of soldier.
this country was founded on that soldier.
that soldier is the one that those on the front lines calls the coward
that soldier is the one that those on the front lines call when they need help
because these soldiers dont miss.
these soldiers are trained harder than the most elite frontline man
these soldiers are tought to kill their enemy before there enemy sees them.
these soldiers are the ghosts in the night,
these soldiers are the wind in the day
these soldiers are everywhere.
these soldiers are the bush next to u.
these soldiers are the the tree across the field.
these soldiers are the lump of snow in the flat plain.
these soldiers are snipers.
snipers are the reason we are free.
snipers stop the enemy before the enemy gets close to u,
poem by Joshua Decker
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Wounded Knee Creek
Crazy Horse, War Chief of the Sioux Indians of the North American plains, was murdered by white soldiers on September 5th,1877. He was 35.
Soldiers from Fort Robinson came smiling
Pretending friendship to Crazy Horse
Offering the Sioux a lasting peace treaty
But only if the War Chief returned with them.
Trusting lies of those who never honoured any treaty
Crazy Horse rode unarmed into the fort
They barred the gates and held him by the arms
While private William Gentles bayoneted him twice.
Parents of Crazy Horse came to the fort
Took away the body of their warrior son
Secretly buried his majestic heart
At a place called Wounded Knee Creek.
American history records the Indian nations were finally defeated by white soldiers at a place called Wounded Knee Creek on December 29,1890. But it was a massacre. The Indians had surrendered. They were unarmed prisoners when the soldiers opened fire.300 men, women and children were killed.4 men, and 47 women and children survived.
poem by Colin Ian Jeffery
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Among the Red Guns
Among the red guns,
In the hearts of soldiers
Running free blood
In the long, long campaign:
Dreams go on.
Among the leather saddles,
In the heads of soldiers
Heavy in the wracks and kills
Of all straight fighting:
Dreams go on.
Among the hot muzzles,
In the hands of soldiers
Brought from flesh-folds of women--
Soft amid the blood and crying--
In all your hearts and heads
Among the guns and saddles and muzzles:
Dreams,
Dreams go on,
Out of the dead on their backs,
Broken and no use any more:
Dreams of the way and the end go on.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Every Soldier Has A Dream
After a war a soldier sometimes has to cry as dreams of those memories waters in the eye.
It's very sad when this world of ours goes to war.
Peace is the thing that soldiers have fought and died for.
With hands held in the air a soldier cries a bit but people are blind to dreams that do not fit.
Some people abuse this world but one day they'll find that they've lost their battlefields and they are unklind.
Lost battlefields and dreams with no victories won, following the forgotten hero.
Here they come.
They bury the dream because they cannot recall what it was that made the Soldier stand proud and tall.
Soldiers come from all walks of life.
Sisters.
Brothers.
Soldiers with many dreams seldom shared with others.
Soldiers who had loved ones and families back home.
Some soldiers are just children
and still on their own.
Honoured I feel to remember soldiers this way.
I salute them have I your attention I say.
Stand at ease,
fall out.
Sir nobody knew his name.
Dear God you know who he was our dream was the same.
Undaunted was the soldier in the face of fear.
No turning back.
Each soldier shed a silent tear.
But I wonder why no one hears the soldiers cry.
Listen today as soldiers go to fight and die .
Try to imagine the soldiers forgotten dream.
Keep the memory of what the Soldier
had been.
It haunts us today and remains here in our time.
Ghosts with forgotten dreams remain.
Its such a crime.
What the soldier fought for is what we must redeem,
as we look back and try to recapture the dream.
The ship's sunk and they say,
we're glad we missed the cruise.
Don't take for granted things in life we shouldn't loose.
When the battle is over and the dreams don't sit.
Every soldier must cry just a little bit.
By Paul McCann
poem by Paul McCann
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Soldiers
soldiers, soldiers,
marching in dead time.
ghouls without faces,
in mechanical rhyme.
paid for, paid off,
eyes open and blind.
hearts severed from the soul,
soul severed from the mind.
gunfire, racism,
treat women like a toy.
grown men without mothers,
fathers, just boys.
gang bangers, pimp daddies,
kings of purgatory.
bad drugs, bad days,
and nights without joy.
cant pay the rent, get a job,
and prison becomes their school.
no hope for nothing more than nothing,
trapped by the have not rules....
soldiers, soldiers.
pawns in the rich man's game.
victims of unholy anger,
and gods that have no name!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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When Women Will Rule The World
When women will rule the World sadly i won't be around
My bones will be resting forever in some quiet dead person's ground
But what a World 'twill be to live in the flower of peace will bloom again
And for as long as women do rule the World peace in the World will remain,
For as long as men rule the World terror and warring will live on
They have not learned from the mistakes of past male leaders with men as leaders all hope of peace gone
When women will rule the World the World will be a better place to live in
Mothers will not have to weep for their dead children there will not be wars for to win,
Women give birth to the soldiers mothers do not want their children to die
A dead hero is better than a living coward that is if you believe a lie,
Women do not want their children fighting in wars far away
There would be less wars in the World if women had a greater say
And when women will rule the World war will be a thing of the past
The flower of peace will be blooming and beautiful peace it will last.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Let's Remember Those Soldiers
Let's remember those soldiers
No matter alive or dead
Hold them dear to our hearts
And keep their memories in our heads
Let's remember those soldiers
As they fight on foreign lands
And pray they make it back home
Because it is all up to Gods hands
Let's remember those soldiers
And the hell they are going through
Praise them when they get home
For all they've done for me and you
Let's remember those soldiers
And their families they left behind
Should you know some of these families
Try and treat them a little more kind
Let's remember those soldiers
They are fighting for our rights
Before you go to sleep tonight
Say a prayer for them tonight
Let's remember those soldiers
And let them know that we care
But for the grace of God
We might be the ones over there
Let's remember those soldiers
And let's wish them all the best
May they all make it back home
So we all can get some rest
Let's remember those soldiers
Even ones from wars of the past
Though some are dead and gone
Let's make sure their memories last
Let's remember those soldiers
And docs and nurses in those camps
Taking care of the wounded
Let's put their faces on postage stamps
Let's remember those soldiers
And not just count them as a loss
For they are truely the ones
That pay the ultimate cost
wrote 3/7/2008 by Norman Hale Jr.
poem by Norman Hale
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The soldiers fought
The soldiers fought a fight, and went for us,
They went not thinking of themselves, and no fuss;
Some were injured. Yet in such agony they fought,
And some carried back to safety, while the enemy was sought.
Those soldiers were so very brave, fighting in our place,
Marching altogether, In order and without grace;
They never knew if they'd get back home at all,
All they did was fighting to win, the problem wasn't small.
And a lot of those brave soldiers, lost arms and legs, it's so,
But some very brave soldiers, where they died we don't know;
And this is why the legacy, we remember them, at set of sun,
And thank all these brave soldiers, for the good that was done.
poem by Margaret Haig
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Wars Defiant Ones
(7/2/12)
They came back from the war as defiant as can be
As if they had a split personality.
Tragedies had opened up the doors
To many things they never saw before.
Seeing homeless children roaming the streets
Women who didn't listen - would get beat.
Terrorist groups killing their own
Pipe bombs planted, ready to be blown.
Civilians scattering all around
Dead bodies laying on the ground.
Men, women and children in the square
On their knees saying their prayers
But to a terrorist they don't care.
Don't they realize that life must change
Nothing ever stays the same.
Families being torn apart
As death tears at their hearts.
Natural causes kill millions of people every day
Why are we letting war lead the way?
No matter what name for GOD you may use
When it comes to war - we all lose.
Look at the hospitals in a war zone
Children left with no skin and broken bones
People have lost many a limb
The war is getting worse - it looks grim.
YES! AMERICA has lots of imperfections
But people look to us for protection.
Our soldiers After seeing all the atrocities
They come back defiant as can be
To try to change the course of history.
poem by Louis Rams
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God's Gunna Work it Out
As the bombs shattered people’s entrails
The screams of horror did not assail
Organized violence against humanity
Blood ran thru streets like frightened children
But the children are smeared all over
Freedom is not as free as War-Spilled Blood
But have no fear
God’s gunna work it out here
Women and children being brutally raped
By aids infested soldiers
Decapitation elation
War-cry copulation
Victorious assassination
But have no fear
God’s gunna work it out here
poem by Josephine DixonBanks
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Guns and their shadows
Under guns and their shadows
amidst men and women and children
life spirit lessens,
innocence suffers,
dream dies,
expectation extincts.
Under guns and their shadows
amidst men and women and children
hopes become horrors,
desires become despairs,
trust becomes tenions,
smiles become sighs.
Under guns and their shadows
amidst men and women and children
word means whispers,
home means house,
homeland means ex land,
freedom means fantasy.
Under guns and their shadows
amidst men and women and children
life still goes on,
some where a force moves on,
binding and blending every one
for guns can spit only fires and not lives.
poem by Manju Shree
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After The War
The soldiers used the women and now,
There are many children born after the war!
Some can identify their fathers but others cannot,
And this is part of the problems of war.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Lebanon
She dreams of nineteen sixty-nine
Before the soldiers came
The life was cheap on bread and wine
And sharing meant no shame
She is awakened by the screams
Of rockets flying from nearby
And scared she clings onto her dreams
To beat the fear that she might die
And who will have won
When the soldiers have gone
From the lebanon
The lebanon
Before he leaves the camp he stops
He scans the world outside
And where there used to be some shops
Is where the snipers sometimes hide
He left his home the week before
He thought hed be like the police
But now he finds he is at war
Werent we supposed to keep the peace
And who will have won
When the soldiers have gone
From the lebanon
The lebanon
The lebanon
From the lebanon
I must be dreaming
It cant be true
I must be dreaming
It cant be true
And who will have won
When the soldiers have gone?
From the lebanon
The lebanon
The lebanon
From the lebanon
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some Mothers Son
Some mothers son lies in a field
Someone has killed some mothers son today
Head blown up by some soldiers gun
While all the mothers stand and wait
Some mothers son aint coming home today
Some mothers son aint got no grave
Two soldiers fighting in a trench
One soldier glances up to see the sun
And dreams of games he played when he was young
And then his friend calls out his name
It stops his dream and as he turns his head
A second later he is dead
Some mothers son lies in a field
Back home they put his picture in a frame
But all dead soldiers look the same
While all the parents stand and wait
To meet their children coming home from school
Some mothers son is lying dead
Somewhere someone is crying
Someone is trying to be so brave
But still the world keeps turning
Though all the children have gone away
Some mothers son lies in a field
But in his mothers eyes he looks the same
As on the day he went away
They put his picture on the wall
They put flowers in the picture frame
Some mothers memory remains
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Soldiers Family
Today we lost another soldier, I do not know
His/her name.
Today we lost a soldier, I don’t know
From whence he/she came.
This was a soldier fighting in a war
As so many other soldiers had done this before.
It matters not what country the soldier is from.
For they no longer fight for country, but for each other.
All beliefs, religions, and honors are blown in the wind.
For war is not a joy, it is but a sin.
Once the soldier is gone, the family must live to carry on.
Wondering if it’s all been in vain
And if there was anything to gain.
The pains and the memories the families must bear
And with each other these they share.
A smile, a joke, a laughter, or two
These were the things they shared with you.
A love story or a relationship gone bad
These were the things that made them happy or sad.
A mother who inwardly cries
For it is so hard to say good-bye.
Nine months in her stomach, then tending
And caring for them and watching the child grow
This is what every mother knows.
A soldiers life is lost, but it’s not just any soldier you see
For this is the one that came from the father and me.
Yes! My child was a soldier and on the battle front they died
Trying to protect the freedom for you and I.
But let us mourn for all soldiers, for they are comrades
Who fought side by side, until the moment that they died.
It matters not if they are classified as the enemy
Death on all sides, there are so many.
They cry for their children, the same as we
And their hearts they do bleed.
If we as parents and family would be united as one
We would have these governments” under our gun”.
Until that day- we will always be “ a soldiers family”.
poem by Louis Rams
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A War Raging On
There's a war raging on
Though I know not where
There are people fighting
Though they do not care
Soldiers are fighting
Mothers are crying
Fathers are preaching
For their sons are dying,
For their is a war killing
And no one really cares.
There's bullets shooting
As I see the guns loading
And there's planes flying
For I feel the bombs exploding,
I see war and I see blood
And death upon the sand
There's hunger and death
I still see in His hand,
For there's people killing
As I see the blood flowing.
There's soldiers marching
For I hear them coming
The killing is flowing
For I see the children running,
There are people being shot
Poets getting caught
Murderers being sought
Lessons again being taught,
For there is a war raging
As the soldiers are hunting.
There is a war coming
For I hear the horns blowing
There is more killing coming
For I see the hate growing,
Children are getting killed
Burying bombs in the fields
Land is being destroyed
Mountains are becoming hills,
For there is a war coming
For I see the hate showing.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Border guards
What the soldiers are expected to perform?
On the field and off the field to inform
About their personal attitude towards enemy soldiers
And to maintain human values as guard on borders
There is real feeling of brotherhood when prevails calm
Regular visit to their bunkers in peace time without any harm
Exchange of greetings on festival days and respect for family members
Sweet memory, grief, burden or welfare to remember
When hostility is likely to resume or danger bell sounds
There is concern when skirmishes are shadowing with firing of rounds
No one knows who will hit and face the casualty
Peace atmosphere is broken with the arrival of hostility
Many countries have faced volatile borders
The peace accord is broken as if for the benefit of traders
New weaponry is to be tested on the battle field
Who is bothered about gain or loss or territories held?
New round of peace talks and firing still on
How the soldiers can rejoice when their bodies are torn?
Daily there is loss of some lives as if they are heard of ships
Bodies may return home for families at home to weep
When country is really at war, the war cry is heard
The countless losses along with human lives is feared
Many children may turn orphans as war may be raged
The situation there after may not be successfully managed
The scenario is so hysterically up sided that soldiers turn fierce enemies
Men in uniforms put hand ready on triggers as ordered by the armies
The blood is rushed to their eyes to finish each others with revenge
The national interest comes to their mind and consciously up to avenge
Who knows how many bodies lay scattered in the battle field?
Even though the scene is different as latest weapons are used
Still the draggers and bayonets are used to score over adversary
There may be many occasions to celebrate it as triumph anniversary
What is value of life in the minds of uniform men?
Are they totally indifferent to their brethren and other humans?
Do they really feel joy when dragger is pierced through body?
Does he really think that it can be him one day or any body?
The triumph echo may die soon and peace may prevail again?
The loss on both the sides may be forgotten with piece of land regained
The bodies may be exchanged with full guard of honor
The fallen guards may be considered as martyrs and nation’s saviors
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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(ballad) If I could...
If I could.....
If i could
i'd bring our soldiers home
If I could
I'd bring our soldiers home..
i would bring them safe and sound
home again on American ground
If i could
i'd bring our soldiers home.
If i could
I'd make this world free
If i could
I'd make this world free
no cold and hungry children
no pain or poverty...
if i could
I'd make this world free.
If i could
i'd bring or soldiers home
if i could
i'd bring our soldiers home
I'd bring them safe and sound
Home again, on American ground
If i could
i'd bring our soldiers home..
If i could
i'd change nine one one
if i could
I'd change nine one one
I'd give anything to change
the damage that's been done
if i could
I'd change nine one one...
If i could
i'd bring our soldiers home
If i could
I'd bring our soldiers home
I'd bring them all safe and sound
home on American ground
If i could
i'd bring our soldiers home
if i could
i'd bring our soldiers home
poem by Connetta Jean
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When The Break Ensued
The curfew was imposed,
The women, men and children
Of the valley were banned
To come out of the houses.
The whole hot day of June
Was spent in exchange of fire,
The volleys of bullets went overhead
With the buzzing sounds;
Sometime mortars and heavy guns
Came in action too.
The soldiers roved in the deserted streets
All resistant with weapons,
As if the ghosts were discarded,
From the door of purgatory,
And they all came back to launch a war
Against the countrymen.
Their mother and daughters, sisters and wives,
Sitting afar are baffled to think upon,
Whether they would return in persons
Or with silver medals, wrapped in coffins.
Motars, guns instilled fear in the spheres,
No one dared come out of the huts,
The nation remained watching the show on TV,
The commanders remained busy in the lodges
In drinking, eating and chatting.
When tut, tut, tut of the guns Gs III ceased,
And the break in curfew ensued,
The residents of the battled valley
Men, women and children came out of the abodes
With scythes in hands, they ran to the farms,
To harvest over dried wheat-crop,
And to pick over-ripe fruit hanging on the trees.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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