Quotes about flag, page 80
The nagging women of the world
Nag, Nag, Nag
They nag about the money
They nag about sex
They nag about it all
From simple to complex
The nagging women of the world!
Before the plane takes off
They nag about jetlag
Suggesting the holiday
Will only be a drag
They nag about the food
Whether it is bad or good
They nag about fingernails
And overcrowded jails
They nag about the music
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poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Carrying A Print of Starry Night Home
For Vango
Heading home, the day obeys universal laws
Night takes the shift, stars guard the gates
I tread upon a road of moonlight
As I pass by a purple lake.
Curious sheep surround me,
Their damp wool coats brush against my knees
The ducks startle and wobble off, quickly as ducks do.
Plunging thier leathery feet into the purple,
Paddling away, sweet sounds these webbed oars,
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poem by John Walls
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Happy Fourth Of July!
Dawn was grey, overcast, this Independence Day
A comment on how we treat independence and freedom now?
The freedom of the wolves to live, the polar bears to thrive
The freedom of a conflicted people to fight for the government they choose
Without the boots of our young men and women insisting on our choice
You can have the kind of freedom we dictate
As long as you do it our way, we will be your kindly uncle
We will smile and pat you gently on your head
Until you choose a way different from your kindly uncle's demands
Then the boots will return to stomp you into our way
Happy Fourth of July!
I would like to stand and sing The Star Spangled Banner
And know it was a salute to how we got our freedom
To watch the flag pass by and feel proud of our way of life
Today it seems only to mean we are in charge controlling others
July 4,2007
poem by Marjorie DeBol DeFazio
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Old Dan
Old stories he told and old ballads he sung
The Tans were in Ireland when old Dan was young
He was twenty six years in nineteen sixteen
And the bitterness and grief of war he had seen.
I knew him when he was in his mid sixties in his life's early Fall
And he said his Civil war memories were his saddest memories of all
When the signing of a Treaty caused families to divide
And brother at the hand of brother had died.
He had fought in war but the praises of war would not sing
He said war to Ireland death and sorrow did bring
A heroic freedom fighter of which he never did brag
He said far too many lives lost for the colour of a flag.
With the deceased of Munster for decades he lay
I knew him as an ageing man his hair silver gray
He told stories and sung songs of his younger years
Of the Ireland he loved Land of bloodshed and tears.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Song Of My Nation
i heard the song of my nation
in a foreign land it was played smoothely
i had sworn to remain in exile forever
but it was before i heard the song of my nation
i closed my eyes to listen
but imaginations took control
i saw my home, i felt the cry of my people
and i stood for my people, fought with them
it was the song of my nation that called my name
it questioned my love for my people
while the song played, i packed to leave
to find the path home, which was nolonger clear
it was the anthem, the anthem of my nation
it told of my perishing people
it whispered the cry of a widow and the widower
it screamed the agony of newly orphaned child
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poem by Inomusa Ndlovu
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Flyng At Night
five billion years away
a planet turns,
turning a million years
this side of the planet
and my heart beats
each beats
a million years
the other side of another planet
the distance that shortens
the years
as we watch a foreign body
five billion years away
a billion years passed
a universe caught in time
an eagle flaps its wing
each flag
a million years pass
that side of the planet
time is where you are
it walks away from you
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poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Okinawa
Armada sails
Island after island
Battalions land
Ominous silence
Jungles become fierce roaring lions
Machine gun nests
Relentless enemy with no surrender
Casualties, the maimed and dying
Rain, mud, the dead unburied
Torture, dehumanization, madness
Corpses defiled
Attack after attack
Night becomes a morbid nightmare
Shadows, ghosts, artillery fire
The rocks splattered with blood
Strategic hills, hidden caves
Caves where fear shivers
They fight and wait for the emperor
Huddled in the cold darkness
Foreign voice echoes off the rocks
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poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Our Orders
WEAVE no more silks, ye Lyons looms,
To deck our girls for gay delights!
The crimson flower of battle blooms,
And solemn marches fill the night.
Weave but the flag whose bars to-day
Drooped heavy o’er our early dead,
And homely garments, coarse and gray,
For orphans that must earn their bread!
Keep back your tunes, ye viols sweet,
That poured delight from other lands!
Rouse there the dancer’s restless feet:
The trumpet leads our warrior bands.
And ye that wage the war of words
With mystic fame and subtle power,
Go, chatter to the idle birds,
Or teach the lesson of the hour!
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poem by Julia Ward Howe
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The Stretcher-Bearer
My stretcher is one scarlet stain,
And as I tries to scrape it clean,
I tell you wot -- I'm sick with pain
For all I've 'eard, for all I've seen;
Around me is the 'ellish night,
And as the war's red rim I trace,
I wonder if in 'Eaven's height,
Our God don't turn away 'Is Face.
I don't care 'oose the Crime may be;
I 'olds no brief for kin or clan;
I 'ymns no 'ate: I only see
As man destroys his brother man;
I waves no flag: I only know,
As 'ere beside the dead I wait,
A million 'earts is weighed with woe,
A million 'omes is desolate.
In drippin' darkness, far and near,
All night I've sought them woeful ones.
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poem by Robert William Service
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Minora Sidera
Sitting at times over a hearth that burns
With dull domestic glow,
My thought, leaving the book, gratefully turns
To you who planned it so.
Not of the great only you deigned to tell---
The stars by which we steer---
But lights out of the night that flashed, and fell
Tonight again, are here.
Such as were those, dogs of an elder day,
Who sacked the golden ports,
And those later who dared grapple their prey
Beneath the harbour forts:
Some with flag at the fore, sweeping the world
To find an equal fight,
And some who joined war to their trade, and hurled
Ships of the line in flight.
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poem by Sir Henry Newbolt
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