Quotes about flag, page 78
The Start
Today I start my life for good;
I am determined now to find
The value of my real manhood;
And not to travel as if blind.
am yet young in age and hope;
I shall so think and do aright,
Things human, and, all in my scope,
To make of life a shining light.
There shall be no mistake in plan,
For time does not permit to lose,
And win again, the race of man;
Hence, now I start, and rightly choose.
I shall not travel wild to find
That I have fallen almost flat,
Then rise to weep and leave behind
That I a coward was for that.
So find yourself in early age,
To know what you shall be in life;
Then go and write on hist'ry's page
The victories of your daily strife;
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poem by Marcus Mosiah Garvey
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We Still Have War That Leads To Terrorism
That we learn from our past mistakes in some instances a lie
For God and Flag and Country so many still prepared to die
In a World of millions of Homeless people where poverty is rife
We still have war that leads to terrorism and disrespect for human life
Of war and battles fought and won the war men love to sing
In many instances from the past we have not learned a thing
One war leads to another war in most cases is true
The Karma that we reap from life it only is our due
More news of war and terrorism with every new day
We have not learned from the past that does seem fair to say
A life for a life as well as an eye for an eye
Amongst the unforgiving only does seem to apply
The past may well be in the past and to the forever gone
But some find it hard to forgive and old hatreds do live on.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Today’s Funny World
When olive branch, we show the world,
They think, our weakened stage has come,
And treat us worse than ev’n before!
When flag of truce, in hand we hold,
They stiffen conditions on us,
As though we can’t fight anymore!
When bow we as mark of respect,
They look down upon us askance,
As though we are worthless on earth!
The world today is suspicious;
The human lives are less precious;
There’s dearth of people more pious!
Man wants to do whatev’r he likes;
Money decides the things he does;
The love in families seems gone.
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poem by John Celes
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Words... (Tiny Bodies)
words have tiny bodies,
some young, some aged beyond thought.
words carry swords and plant tears,
words form tiny lamps in darkness.
words express the unexpressable,
ride bicycles on children's journeys.
words taunt silence with definition....
and some of the best are never spoken.
words heal wounds, and fill bowls,
weave webs while we sleep.
words often turn and betray us,
and often die for our sins.
words create universes,
and shed their clothes on well lit stages.
words translate both the wolf and the whale,
and bear the flag of mountains.
words bear children, but leave no tracks.
words hammer rusty nails.
words never ever wear shoes,
and dance with every other step.
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Hilsen af norske og svenske Frivillige, som deeltoge i Kampen de to første Krigsaar
Velsignet er den Dag i Dag!
Velkommen Kammerater, brave!
I har sat Danmarks Led i Lave,
Stærkt Gjærdet blev ved hvert et Slag.
— Glad Norsk og Svensk sig stilled' begge
Med Dannebrog i Danskens Række;
Fostbroderligt flød Nordens Blod;
Vi er jo samme Slægt og Rod.
Og derfor nu med Hjemmets Flag,
Som mellem Dannebrog vi svinge,
Vi Hilsner fra vor Hjemstavn bringe;
Gud var med Danmarks gode Sag.
Høit Glædens Kirkeklokker klinge,
De Løver mellem Hjerter springe;
Den Graad, som nu i Øiet staaer,
I Sang vil straale tusind' Aar.
Naar Sørgebud fra Danmark klang,
Hvor Birken groer og under Fjeldet,
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poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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Home Coming
A Man who served in Vietnam
is coming home today.
He’d scarcely recognize us-
so long he’s been away.
He fought in the Tet offensive
in a city known as Hue.
Somehow, unaccountably,
when others left, he stayed.
An honor Guard escorts him,
descending from the Plane.
He is an easy burden;
a few bones, a soldiers’ name.
For years he waited patiently
for the searchers to arrive.
The dead are far more patient
than their brothers who survive.
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poem by John F. McCullagh
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Beautiful Twenty-Second
To Original Music
The people in this nation,
Have kept for many years,
February twenty-second,
That day we love it dear.
It's our forefather's birthday,
Brave, noble Washington;
And may we ever keep it,
Through all the years to come.
CHORUS:
Beautiful twenty-second,
Beautiful twenty-second,
May the people ever keep it,
Beautiful twenty-second.
One of the constitution builders,
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poem by Julia A Moore
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Old Ironsides
Ay, tear her tattered ensign down!
Long has it waved on high,
And many an eye has danced to see
That banner in the sky;
Beneath it rung the battle shout,
And burst the cannon's roar; --
The meteor of the ocean air
Shall sweep the clouds no more.
Her deck, once red with heroes' blood,
Where knelt the vanquished foe,
When winds were hurrying o'er the flood,
And waves were white below,
No more shall feel the victor's tread,
Or know the conquered knee; --
The harpies of the shore shall pluck
The eagle of the sea!
Oh, better that her shattered hulk
Should sink beneath the wave;
Her thunders shook the mighty deep,
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poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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The Woman In The South...
the woman i think is lost but when i talk to her
she is the most definite one, direct, candid, and knows
what she is doing,
she is an internet preacher of her causes,
the rivers are polluted now, and the mountains bald,
the green movement is on
coal is passe, mining is evil, the corporate lords
are killing everybody,
there must be change,
there must be change
there must be change
we can change the system, she shouts, she carries the flag
and waves the red colors in the air,
she is not afraid of death, she welcomes it anytime.
she is a friend, but i am not with her.
when we are near, there is something else,
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Become Happy
When you come from a distant place
And rest your feet in my backyard,
I become happy.
When you sail your remembrance
On the edge of your body and set a pair of pigeons free,
I become happy.
When you melt yourself into a glass of water
At the moment of quenching my thirst
And stare at me with passion,
I become happy.
When you make your face like a blooming rose
And bring the dawn to my sight,
I become happy.
When you take a nap in the afternoon
Holding your hands crossed on your butterfly chest
And let your misfortunes fade away from us,
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poem by Shamsur Rahman
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