Quotes about flag, page 91
God, I Know Mine Do!
perhaps the lips of god tremble....
with the death of every child out of season.
with the padlock on the door of the foreclosed house,
with the bullied child hanging in the closet.
with every call to war and flag that's raised,
with the bare feet of the poverty dwellings.
with the unemployed man making bathtub met,
the girl trading sex for a high...
with every affluent sneer,
and every indifferent stare.
with every tree cut for no reason,
and every tanker spilling oil.
with every dog taken to the pound,
with every racial slur.
with every elderly person left to eat dogfood,
with every unmarked grave.
with every moment of religious pretense,
with every shirt made in a sweatshop.
with every illegal immigrant shot and killed,
with every tick of the clock in an empty room.
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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In Closing
each person's life is a message,
every action a crucial page
in the book of time and again.
behind every action lies intent,
it is in the intent
that we are born anew.
decades of waiting for
the flower to bloom,
yet in a moment the petals fall.
will they hit the ground like thunder?
or kiss it like soft falling rain?
we identify only by touching,
are made eternal by compassionate involvement.
our bodies become dead branches
for the everlasting fire,
only our giving makes us eternal.
we have sung of equality and freedom,
tore the masks off prejudice and fear.
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Our Captain's Last Words
Where the foremost flag was flying,
Pierce'd by manny a shot and shell,
Where the bravest men were dying,
There our gallant captain fell.
"Boys! you follow now another;
Follow till the foe shall yield;"
Then he whisper'd, "Tell my mother
Stephen died upon the field."
"Mother!"
"Moth er!"
"Stephen died upon the field."
Through the battle they bore him,
But his words were growing wild;
Heeding not the scenes before him,
Stephen was once more a child.
"Ah, she comes! there is no other
Speaks my name with such a joy;
Press me to your bosom, mother,
Call my still your darling joy."
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poem by Henry Clay Work
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Freedom Or Queen
LAND where the banners wave last in the sun,
Blazoned with star-clusters, many in one,
Floating o'er prairie and mountain and sea;
Hark! 't is the voice of thy children to thee!
Here at thine altar our vows we renew
Still in thy cause to be loyal and true,--
True to thy flag on the field and the wave,
Living to honor it, dying to save!
Mother of heroes! if perfidy's blight
Fall on a star in thy garland of light,
Sound but one bugle-blast! Lo! at the sign
Armies all panoplied wheel into line!
Hope of the world! thou'hast broken its chains,--
Wear thy bright arms while a tyrant remains,
Stand for the right till the nations shall own
Freedom their sovereign, with Law for her throne!
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poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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Freedom's Fool
To hell with Government I say;
I'm sick of all the piddling pack.
I'd like to scram, get clean away,
And never, nevermore come back.
With heart of hope I long to go
To some lost island of the sea,
And there get drunk with joy to know
No one on earth is over me.
There will be none to say me nay,
So from my lexicon I can
Obliterate the word "obey",
And mock the meddling laws of man.
The laws of Nature and of God
Are good enough for guys like me,
Who scorn to kiss the scarlet rod
Of office and authority.
No Stars and Stripes nor Union Jack,
Nor tri-colour nor crimson rag
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poem by Robert William Service
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Today... 'My Banner
The Banner of Jesus is flying high
there nailed upon the cross was He to die.
With arms opened wide as a flag unfurled
as men passed by and their insults hurled.
Upon Calvary's hilltop the banner flies
as Jesus lays down His life for us and dies.
There the veil of the temple was torn in two
and heavens door opened we go through.
He said 'When I am hung upon the tree'
then I will draw Jews and Gentiles to me, '
To all who believe the cross leads to heaven
and all who come in repentance are forgiven.
Outstretched upon Calvary's cross I see
the full extent of Jesus' love for me.
The 'agape' love of God was outpoured
for this poor, vile sinner by Christ adored.
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poem by Roy Allen
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Guardian of freedom
I wake up early in the morning
at times there is laughter, joy, but a lost of a hero has us all mourning
complete my mission, and do what I am told
prepared for anything on any kind of weather, even in the cold
So be proud to be an American, respect our flag and national anthem
boots on the ground is the key to freedom
doing your job with courage, and good character is all you need
I'm strong, tough and trained to destroy my enemies with lighting speed
An American family paid the ultimate sacrafice for freedom today
a worrior has paved the way for your life style so you can work and play
young men and women stand ready to slow down or stop a disaster
we must unite, love all Americans like a family brother and sister
Many times a hero leaves his kids, wife and family behind
to sacrafice self for my family, my country, so there won't be any bind
I am an American Eagle a guardian of America's nest
I am a worrior and I am an American Soldier ready for any test.
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poem by Michael Neguse
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Racism Is Around Me Everywhere
Of human ignorance I am almost in despair
For racism is around me everywhere
But like they say sheer ignorance is bliss
Just like Judas betrayed Jesus with a kiss.
Some people carry their honour in a flag
And of their Nationality they brag
They feel superior and they differentiate
And against those who are different they discriminate.
So many people still judged by their race
For such there never ought to be a place
'A fair go' those untruthful words I do recall
There is no such a thing as a 'fair go for all'.
Though we live in a so called democracy
Of racism we never will be free
They judge you by where you come from and the colour of your skin
For many equality and respect seems impossible to win.
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poem by Francis Duggan
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Unassailable Fidelity!
The horse never slept
Nor it lay on ground
His mind was battling
With the songs of swords
The challenges of the riders
The splash of blood
The pool of blood
The horse kicked
The horse of the enemy
Eager to cut the throat
Of his master on him
The horse trampled on
The dead on the battlefield
To take his master to safety
When the hissing sound of sword
Lashed at him like a storm.
The horse learnt the rule
The rule of sword
The rule of battlefield
The justice of killing
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poem by Vadakkumpurath Ramesan
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Song of the Sailor Boy
Cheer up, cheer up, my mother dear!
Ah! Why do you sit and weep?
Do you think that he who guards me here,
Forsakes me on the deep?
Let hope and faith light up your glance,
When you see our ship set sail;
Look, look at her now, and see her dance;
Oh! Why do you turn so pale?
There's an English flag, and an English crew;
So, mother, be proud of your boy in blue.
Ah! Wonder not that, next to thee,
I love the galloping wave;
'Tis the first of coursers, bold and free -
And fit to carry the brave.
It may bear me on to a dark lee-shore,
To sink with a gallant band;
But early or late - here's a heart for my fate,
Let it come on the sea or the land.
The storm and the battle shall find me true,
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poem by Eliza Cook
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