Quotes about flag, page 12
The Only Black Sheep (Ancient Times)
The black sheep sits among us.
His eyes' glisten as he waits undivided.
His ghost knows he's already here.
It whispers, 'of despair, with a chill in the air.'
Anger, begets this fear monger.
Control, and dominance.
Nothing less then absolute dictatorship, for this tyrant.
A rule with a iron fist.
The money's is his.
Multiple women with polygamous desires.
A united military is his wanted transgression.
Put down all, who threat this rule.
Destroy,
Hurt,
Rob,
Enslave,
Hate.
Humiliate,
Devastate
Those under the empires flag.
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poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Voyage Of The Good Ship Union
1862
'T is midnight: through my troubled dream
Loud wails the tempest's cry;
Before the gale, with tattered sail,
A ship goes plunging by.
What name? Where bound?--The rocks around
Repeat the loud halloo.
--The good ship Union, Southward bound:
God help her and her crew!
And is the old flag flying still
That o'er your fathers flew,
With bands of white and rosy light,
And field of starry blue?
--Ay! look aloft! its folds full oft
Have braved the roaring blast,
And still shall fly when from the sky
This black typhoon has past!
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poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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The House of the Commonwealth
We sent a word across the seas that said,
"The house is finished and the doors are wide,
Come, enter in.
A stately house it is, with tables spread,
Where men in liberty and love abide
With hearts akin.
"Behold, how high our hands have lifted it!
The soil it stands upon is pure and sweet
As are our skies.
Our title deeds in holy sweat are writ,
Not red accusing blood -- and 'neath our feet
No foeman lies."
And England, Mother England, leans her face
Upon her hand and feels her blood burn young
At what she sees:
The image here of that fair strength and grace
That made her feared and loved and sought and sung
Through centuries.
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poem by Roderic Quinn
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Grant At Rest-- August 8, 1885
Sir Launcelot rode overthwart and endlong in a wide forest, and held no
path but as wild adventure led him... And he returned and came again to his
horse, and took off his saddle and his bridle, and let him pasture; and
unlaced his helm, and ungirdled his sword, and laid him down to sleep upon
his shield before the cross. --Age of Chivalary
_Grant_
What shall we say of the soldier. Grant,
His sword put by and his great soul free?
How shall we cheer him now or chant
His requiem befittingly?
The fields of his conquest now are seen
Ranged no more with his armed men--
But the rank and file of the gold and green
Of the waving grain is there again.
Though his valiant life is a nation's pride,
And his death heroic and half divine,
And our grief as great as the world is wide,
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poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Life After War
Being nice is not enough…
A relationship is tough…
Living by the relationship…
If you are ready that’s cool…
But in that way you never…
Finished school…
And the teen age life you…
Never lived…
Protecting your country was …
Your Adams rib…
Now because of what you did…
Joining the army at 17…
That uniform was your dream…
But the conflict that came and went…
Give your life a different scent…
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poem by whisperkwane Lamb
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At Fredericksburg—Dec. 13, 1862
GOD send us peace, and keep red strife away;
But should it come, God send us men and steel!
The land is dead that dare not face the day
When foreign danger threats the common weal.
Defenders strong are they that homes defend;
From ready arms the spoiler keeps afar.
Well blest the country that has sons to lend
From trades of peace to learn the trade of war.
Thrice blest the nation that has every son
A soldier, ready for the warning sound;
Who marches homeward when the fight is done,
To swing the hammer and to till the ground.
Call back that morning, with its lurid light,
When through our land the awful war-bell tolled;
When lips were mute, and women's faces white
As the pale cloud that out from Sumter rolled.
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poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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A Message to America
You have the grit and the guts, I know;
You are ready to answer blow for blow
You are virile, combative, stubborn, hard,
But your honor ends with your own back-yard;
Each man intent on his private goal,
You have no feeling for the whole;
What singly none would tolerate
You let unpunished hit the state,
Unmindful that each man must share
The stain he lets his country wear,
And (what no traveller ignores)
That her good name is often yours.
You are proud in the pride that feels its might;
From your imaginary height
Men of another race or hue
Are men of a lesser breed to you:
The neighbor at your southern gate
You treat with the scorn that has bred his hate.
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poem by Alan Seeger
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The American Flag and the Lucky Juju Bead (Not a Poem)
The American Flag and the Lucky Juju Bead
By Uriah Lee Hamilton
Monday night. No ticket to see the sold-out show of British pop singer Lily Allen at St. Andrew’s in Detroit. I’ve never let this stop me before. Off I go with the mad confidence of Hemingway and the sweet disposition of Jack Kerouac, ready as ever just to enjoy everything and be grateful.
I arrive in the parking lot of St. Andrew’s at 5: 50PM. About fifteen other people in line already including a thirty-five year old guy in a kilt. I have nothing against kilts really, but the chilly breeze was blowing 40 degrees Fahrenheit with snowflakes and rain falling, not strictly apropos for wearing your finest kilt. A homeless man approaches and gives me a small American flag. I tell him I can’t give him anything right now, no single bills until I can find a ticket to buy. I forgot I had a pocketful coins in a plastic bag. The homeless guy promptly reclaims the small American flag from me. My feelings were kind of hurt but I never really get mad at the homeless.
As people showed up, I’d ask, “Have an extra ticket? ” “No, man, I sure don’t.” “Ok, you can have my place in line, I’m ticketless.” At least fifteen more people show up that I have this conversation with, including two people from Dayton, Ohio also without tickets. Drats! Competition!
Then another homeless man on a bike approaches me. He says, “It’s going to be a good show isn’t it? ” I reply, “I don’t know, I can’t get a ticket.” “You don’t have ticket? ” Again I respond, “No, I can’t get a ticket.” He then assures me I’ll get a ticket. “You know, I met Lily today. Pretty little thing, I gave her one of my good luck juju beads.” The homeless guy then showed me two of his fingers. They didn’t appear that much more spectacular than any fingers I’ve seen on other hands. I guess he was holding one of his good luck juju beads, though. This time I remembered the pocketful of change I had. I pulled out the plastic bag and said, “I don’t know what’s in here, but you can have it” (I’m guessing two or three dollars) . He said, “Thanks.” And he then opens those not all that uncommon two fingers and gives me this little juju bead that I put in the pocket that had the plastic bag of change. The homeless guy then disappears as calmly as he appeared, almost like Jesus on the road to Emmaus when he slips away after enlightening the down-hearted disciples about the plan of God with the events that just unfolded. That seemed appropriate for the day after Easter.
As soon as the homeless guy vanishes, three guys show up in line and once again I ask, “Have any tickets? ” One of the three responded, “Just one, man.” I asked, “How much? ” He tells me, “Fifty dollars.” I promptly give him the fifty dollars and a God-blessing and felt all happy. I kind of felt bad for the two people from Dayton but maybe they didn’t have a good luck juju bead. I hope they got tickets somehow, but I don’t know. The time is 6: 30PM and the doors open at 7: 00PM.
An Electronic band from Seattle called Natalie Portman’s Shaved Head opened the show. They were a fun party band with a song or two seeming disco-like. Everyone was having a good time dancing and swaying and talking to friends and people they were romantically involved with. All very cool.
Finally, Lily Allen takes the stage wearing a cool gray hoodie. She eventually sheds the hoodie and has a white T shirt on and is just super cute with a new shorter hair cut. She’s dancing and smiling and singing and everyone in the audience is doing the same. She then introduces a song called “Who’d Have Known” saying it is about the early time in a relationship before you really know each other. As she’s singing the song, she notices a gay couple in front of me all happy with each other and the show and points toward them and smiles friendly and approvingly. A song or two later, the one guy of the couple has a tear on his face from how much he is enjoying the show and Lily notices that as well and says, “You’re crying, are you ok? ” She then reaches out her hand with her lovely pink finger nails and shakes his hand. I think that is the only hand she shook last night. She later throws a towel out into the audience and the same guy gets the towel. Uriah left empty-handed but happy. For the final song in the encore, she sings “Womanizer” by Brittany Spears and everybody is just bopping up and down and digging the coolness of it all. My only disappointment is that she doesn’t sing the song “Knock ‘Em Out”
Form her first album. The song is about a guy hitting on her that won’t take no for an answer and Lily says in her perfectly lovely English accent, “It’s not going to happen, not in a million years.” I know something about success in receiving rejection, but not by such a cool British voice. I would have liked to heard that one. Maybe next time.
On the way out, a pretty blonde kept saying, “This was a sold out show, there is no recession.” I don’t know if that line was motivated from any particular political perspective. I’ll just take it as one more person saying good luck to everyone.
8: 39PM 4-14-2009
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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The Battle Of Lundy's Lane
Rufus Gale speaks--1852
Yes,--in the Lincoln Militia,--in the war of eighteen-twelve;
Many's the day I've had since then to dig and delve--
But those are the years I remember as the brightest years of all,
When we left the plow in the furrow to follow the bugle's call.
Why, even our son Abner wanted to fight with the men!
'Don't you go, d'ye hear, sir!'--I was angry with him then.
'Stay with your mother!' I said, and he looked so old and grim--
He was just sixteen that April--I couldn't believe it was him;
But I didn't think--I was off--and we met the foe again,
Five thousand strong and ready, at the hill by Lundy's Lane.
There as the night came on we fought them from six to nine,
Whenever they broke our line we broke their line,
They took our guns and we won them again, and around the levels
Where the hill sloped up--with the Eighty-ninth,--we fought like devils
Around the flag;--and on they came and we drove them back,
Until with its very fierceness the fight grew slack.
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poem by Duncan Campbell Scott
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Poetry Book - Spider Web
A Choice
Better to lack food
Than to lack truth.
Rather perish in body
Than in soul.
Better to walk naked
Than to walk empty.
Rather be silent
Than to speak falsely.
Better to accomplish nothing
Than to achieve no virtue.
Walk for Shelter
Each of one!
One of each will,
Will walk!
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poem by Erica Borges
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