United We Stand Divided We fall... A poem for our troops?
964087
I love it. Can I copy it and post it in places around here (Afghanistan)?\n\nThank you so much.
508615
I've given you two poems by Wilfred Owen (famous World War 1 poet).  He always picks up on the sounds in his descriptions of events.  In the second poem (Anthem for Doomed Youth), there is a particularly famous bit "rifles' rapid rattle" ... teachers go mad for it!\n\n____________________________________________________________\n\nThe Calls\nBy Wilfred Owen (famous World War 1 poet)\n\nA dismal fog-hoarse siren howls at dawn.\nI watch the man it calls for, pushed and drawn\nBackwards and forwards, helpless as a pawn.\nBut I'm lazy, and his work's crazy.\n\n\nQuick treble bells begin at nine o'clock,\nScuttling the schoolboy pulling up his sock,\nScaring the late girl in the inky frock.\nI must be crazy; I learn from the daisy.\n\n\nStern bells annoy the rooks and doves at ten.\nI watch the verger close the doors, and when\nI hear the organ moan the first amen,\nSing my religion's-same as pigeons'.\n\n\nA blatant bugle tears my afternoons.\nOut clump the clumsy Tommies by platoons,\nTrying to keep in step with rag-time tunes,\nBut I sit still; I've done my drill.\n\n\nGongs hum and buzz like saucepan-lids at dusk,\nI see a food-hog whet his gold-filled tusk\nTo eat less bread, and more luxurious rusk.\n\n\nThen sometimes late at night my window bumps\nFrom gunnery-practice, till my small heart thumps\nAnd listens for the shell-shrieks and the crumps,\nBut that's not all.\n\n\nFor leaning out last midnight on my sill\nI heard the sighs of men, that have no skill\nTo speak of their distress, no, nor the will!\nA voice I know. And this time I must go.\n\n____________________________________________________________\n\nAnthem for Doomed Youth\nBy Wilfred Owen (famous World War 1 poet)\n\nWhat passing-bells for these who die as cattle?\n-Only the monstrous anger of the guns.\nOnly the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle\nCan patter out their hasty orisons.\nNo mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;\nNor any voice of mourning save the choirs,-\nThe shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;\nAnd bugles calling for them from sad shires.\n\n\nWhat candles may be held to speed them all?\nNot in the hands of boys but in their eyes\nShall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes.\nThe pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;\nTheir flowers the tenderness of patient minds,\nAnd each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
1068843
I hear people saying we don't need this war\nI say there's some things worth fighting for\nWhat about our freedom and this piece of ground?\nWe didn't get to keep 'em by backing down\nThey say we don't realize the mess we're getting in\nBefore you start preaching\nLet me ask you this my friend\n\nCHORUS 1\nHave you forgotten how it felt that day\nTo see your homeland under fire\nAnd her people blown away?\nHave you forgotten when those towers fell?\nWe had neighbors still inside\nGoing through a living hell\nAnd you say we shouldn't worry 'bout Bin Laden\nHave you forgotten?\n\nThey took all the footage off my T.V.\nSaid it's too disturbing for you and me\nIt'll just breed anger that's what the experts say\nIf it was up to me I'd show it every day\nSome say this country's just out looking for a fight\nAfter 9/11 man I'd have to say that's right\n\nCHORUS 1\nHave you forgotten how it felt that day\nTo see your homeland under fire\nAnd her people blown away?\nHave you forgotten when those towers fell?\nWe had neighbors still inside\nGoing through a living hell\nAnd we vowed to get the ones behind Bin Laden\nHave you forgotten?\n\nI've been there with the soldiers\nWho've gone away to war\nAnd you can bet that they remember\nJust what they're fighting for\n\nCHORUS 2\nHave you forgotten all the people killed?\nYes, some went down like heroes in that Pennsylvania field\nHave you forgotten about our Pentagon?\nAll the loved ones that we lost\nAnd those left to carry on\nDon't you tell me not to worry 'bout Bin Laden\nHave you forgotten?\n\nHave you forgotten?\nHave you forgotten?
589221
This would be a great poem to use as a speech.\n\nA Brave And Startling Truth\nBy Maya Angelou\n\nWe, this people, on a small and lonely planet \nTraveling through casual space \nPast aloof stars, across the way of indifferent suns \nTo a destination where all signs tell us \nIt is possible and imperative that we learn \nA brave and startling truth \n\nAnd when we come to it \nTo the day of peacemaking \nWhen we release our fingers \nFrom fists of hostility \nAnd allow the pure air to cool our palms \n\nWhen we come to it \nWhen the curtain falls on the minstrel show of hate \nAnd faces sooted with scorn and scrubbed clean \nWhen battlefields and coliseum \nNo longer rake our unique and particular sons and daughters \nUp with the bruised and bloody grass \nTo lie in identical plots in foreign soil \n\nWhen the rapacious storming of the churches \nThe screaming racket in the temples have ceased \nWhen the pennants are waving gaily \nWhen the banners of the world tremble \nStoutly in the good, clean breeze \n\nWhen we come to it \nWhen we let the rifles fall from our shoulders \nAnd children dress their dolls in flags of truce \nWhen land mines of death have been removed \nAnd the aged can walk into evenings of peace \nWhen religious ritual is not perfumed \nBy the incense of burning flesh \nAnd childhood dreams are not kicked awake \nBy nightmares of abuse \n\nWhen we come to it \nThen we will confess that not the Pyramids \nWith their stones set in mysterious perfection \nNor the Gardens of Babylon \nHanging as eternal beauty \nIn our collective memory \nNot the Grand Canyon \nKindled into delicious color \nBy Western sunsets \n\nNor the Danube, flowing its blue soul into Europe \nNot the sacred peak of Mount Fuji \nStretching to the Rising Sun \nNeither Father Amazon nor Mother Mississippi who, without favor, \nNurture all creatures in the depths and on the shores \nThese are not the only wonders of the world \n\nWhen we come to it \nWe, this people, on this minuscule and kithless globe \nWho reach daily for the bomb, the blade and the dagger \nYet who petition in the dark for tokens of peace \nWe, this people on this mote of matter \nIn whose mouths abide cankerous words \nWhich challenge our very existence \nYet out of those same mouths \nCome songs of such exquisite sweetness \nThat the heart falters in its labor \nAnd the body is quieted into awe \n\nWe, this people, on this small and drifting planet \nWhose hands can strike with such abandon \nThat in a twinkling, life is sapped from the living \nYet those same hands can touch with such healing, irresistible tenderness \nThat the haughty neck is happy to bow \nAnd the proud back is glad to bend \nOut of such chaos, of such contradiction \nWe learn that we are neither devils nor divines \n\nWhen we come to it \nWe, this people, on this wayward, floating body \nCreated on this earth, of this earth \nHave the power to fashion for this earth \nA climate where every man and every woman \nCan live freely without sanctimonious piety \nWithout crippling fear \n\nWhen we come to it \nWe must confess that we are the possible \nWe are the miraculous, the true wonder of this world \nThat is when, and only when \nWe come to it
945510
Coming together is a beginning; keeping together is progress; working together is success.\n\nIn prosperity, our friends know us & in adversity, we know our friends. \n\nAnger is a condition in which the tongue works faster than the mind. \n\nYou can't change the past, but you can ruin the present by worrying over the future.\n\nLove...and you shall be loved. \n\nAll people smile in the same language. \n\nEveryone needs to be loved.. especially when they do not deserve it. \n\nThe real measure of a man's wealth is what he has invested in eternity. \n\nEveryone has beauty but not everyone sees it. \n\nIt's important for parents to live the same things they teach. \n\nIf you fill your heart with regrets of yesterday and the worries of tomorrow, you have no today to be thankful for. \n\nThe choice you make today will usually affect tomorrow. \n\nTake time to laugh, for it is the music of the soul. \n\nPatience is the ability to idle your motor when you feel like stripping your gears. \n\nLove is strengthened by working through conflicts together. \n\nHarsh words break no bones but they do break hearts. \n\nTo get out of a difficulty, one usually must go through it. \n\nWe take for granted the things that we should be giving thanks for. \n\nLove is the only thing that can be divided without being diminished. \n\nHappiness is enhanced by others but does not depend upon others. \n\nFor every minute you are angry with someone, you lose 60 seconds of happiness that you can never get back. \n\nDo what you can, for who you can, with what you have, and where you are.
1028922
This is the whole poem the first virse is the song words.\n\n\nThe Star-Spangled Banner\n—Francis Scott Key, 1814\nO say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,\nWhat so proudly we hail'd at the twilight's last gleaming?\nWhose broad stripes and bright stars, thro' the perilous fight,\nO'er the ramparts we watch'd, were so gallantly streaming?\nAnd the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,\nGave proof thro' the night that our flag was still there.\nO say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave\nO'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?\n\n\nOn the shore dimly seen thro' the mists of the deep,\nWhere the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,\nWhat is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,\nAs it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?\nNow it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,\nIn full glory reflected, now shines on the stream:\n'Tis the star-spangled banner: O, long may it wave\nO'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!\n\n\nAnd where is that band who so vauntingly swore\nThat the havoc of war and the battle's confusion,\nA home and a country should leave us no more?\nTheir blood has wash'd out their foul footsteps' pollution.\nNo refuge could save the hireling and slave\nFrom the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave:\nAnd the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave\nO'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.\n\n\nO thus be it ever when free-men shall stand\nBetween their lov'd home and the war's desolation;\nBlest with vict'ry and peace, may the heav'n-rescued land\nPraise the Pow'r that hath made and preserv'd us a nation!\nThen conquer we must, when our cause it is just,\nAnd this be our motto: “In God is our trust!”\nAnd the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave\nO'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
491407
its okay try this \n\nlife's fight\n\nlife can be good and bad\nlife is like a war that never ends\nlife is like a perpetual story \nlife is like a puzzle\ntrying to make the entire puzzle pieces fit impeccably\nwould be a perfect life\nlife is like a boundless fight\nwhen you are in trouble\nlife is like a roller coaster going up and down\nlife can only come to an end \nwhen you feel like you have truly finished gods mission\nlife is like a foot ball team \nwhen the win life is victorius \nwhen they lose life is dissapointing\nlife can be as dark as the sky at night \nbut at other times it can be as bright as the sun \nlife ia as sad as a war but as happay as a newborn baby\nin the end god will pick if you go up or down \nlife can be good or bad\n\nthat is a poem made by my brother Patrick McD
79568
I think your trying to say an idea for a poem. It could be about the War on terrorism, Bush's no child left behind act what, do u think about it? u should also go to the following website for a political poem u could make fun of Bush or Kerry, and there wives. It's a game site but you'll love the games there really funny i recommend; Dancing Blair, Dancing Bush, Dancing Hillary, Hip-Hop debate, freefaller- UK Election, Presidential Knockout, Bush Shootout, whitehouse joust, and War on Terrorism 1 and 2.
316624
Are you Donald Rumsfeld?\n\nSeriously, consider this poem...\n\nOzymandias\n\nI met a traveler from an antique land\nWho said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone\nStand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,\nHalf sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,\nAnd wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,\nTell that its sculptor well those passions read,\nWhich yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,\nThe hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed,\nAnd on the pedestal these words appear:\n"My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:\nLook upon my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"\nNothing beside remains. Round the decay\nOf that colossal wreck, boundless and bare\nThe lone and level sands stretch far away.\n\n-Percy Bysshe Shelley\n1792-1822
122191
It is from a poem called "The Charge of the Light Brigade" by Alfred Tennyson.  It was written after Tennyson read about The Charge of the Light Brigade that happened during the Crimean War:\n\n<second stanza>\n\n'Forward, the Light Brigade!'\nWas there a man dismay'd?\nNot tho' the soldiers knew\n   Some one had blunder'd:\nTheirs not to make reply,\nTheirs not to reason why,\nTheirs but to do & die,\nInto the valley of Death\n   Rode the six hundred.\n\nIt basically means that soldiers on the battlefield are just following orders and they don't have time to consider the validity or consequences of their actions, lest they be killed in the moment that they do so.
1096531
Not sure what that means or how we stand divided.
670904
This is a beautiful poem about losing a loved one..\n\nWhen I'm gone from your side, \nAnd all your tears have been dried ...\n\nDo not stand at my grave and weep, \n\nI am not there, I do not sleep.\n\n\n\n\nI am a thousand winds that blow;\n\nI am the diamond glints on snow;\n\nI am the sunlight on ripened grain; \n\nI am the gentle autumn's rain.\n\n\n\n\nWhen you awaken in the morning hush, \n\nI am the swift uplifting rush \n\nOf quiet birds in circled flight.\n\nI am the soft star that shines at night.\n\n\n\n\nAnd when you stroll in the evening hours, \n\nAnd smell the aroma of beautiful flowers;\n\nThere'll be no need to sob and cry ...\n\nI am not there, I did not die!\n\n\n~ Author Unknown ~
780301
Heres a poem from a soldier to taliban jack in case you haven't read it, I also use it as my answer cause it really is a good statement.\n\nOle Jack Layton ~ Thoughts From A Soldier \n\nDear Jack Layton, \n\nYou sit there in your quiet home, no fear is in your heart, \nYou sleep soundly certain that it won't be blown apart. \n\nYour children they can go to school and play out in the park, \nThey've never seen a bomb explode, heard air raids in the dark. \n\nThey've never seen dead bodies piled up on the street, \nYour wife, she won't be beaten, treated like a piece of meat. \n\nYou are free to form opinions, read any news print you can see, \nYou enjoy your rights and privileges in this country wide and free. \n\nThe reason you can live like that is because I fight your wars, \nI fight and push the enemy back, I keep them off our shores. \n\nI am here and you are there pretending you know best. \nWell Ole Jack now listen close while I get this off my chest. \n\nYou have the right to criticize, you have the right to complain \nYou don't have the right to drag me down in a stupid political game. \n\nThe thing about your rights Ole Jack, the part you can't comprehend \nIs you work in the very system, the democracy I defend. \nI stand on fences around the world protecting those that need it, \nIt is not for you to determine Jack whether or not it's worth it. \n\nAsk the people in Afghanistan if they want me to stay, \nWomen and children depend on me - you say just walk away. \n\nI don't need your changing policy, trying hard to not lose face, \nWhat I need is you behind me, helping protect this place. \n\nYou know its hard to do this when I think I'm all alone. \nI hear stories of young punks p!ssing on memorial stones. \n\nI read the papers over here and they tell me what is said. \nCanadians are losing faith I can't get it through my head. \n\nYou say that it is hopeless, it really brings me down \nDon't tell my mother we're losing, don't spread that rumour around. \n\nI'm doing good, were winning here but no-one will believe \nBecause we are way over here where no one there can see. \n\nWomen here can work you see, children starting school. \nWe built a working government, we've broken Taliban rule. \n\nWe are so close to winning this, it's not too far away \nHistory will show that we were in the right to stay. \n\nWhen that brilliant day arrives, victory you'll claim is ours \nYou'll forget you said to run away - forget you are a coward. \n\nOn that day just thank me for my courage and my trouble, \nFind another place that needs help, and send me on the double.
592462
this phrase (land of the free because of the brave) is intended to remind americans that the price of maintaining freedom is borne by G.I.'s - men and women that are voluntary enlistees in the armed forces.  it intentionally echoes the final words of the star spangled banner, the US national anthem.\n\nwhat do i win?
652071
a poem praising someone or something....maybe
803790
The poppy reminds us of all the fallen soldiers\n\n"In Flanders fields the poppies blow between the crosses...."
1011326
The Star Spangled Banner\n\n(The Defense of Fort McHenry)\nSeptember 20, 1814\nBy Francis Scott Key\n\nOh, say can you see, by the dawn's early light,\nWhat so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?\nWhose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,\nO'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?\nAnd the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,\nGave proof through the night that our flag was still there.\nO say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave\nO'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?\n\nOn the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep,\nWhere the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,\nWhat is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,\nAs it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses?\nNow it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,\nIn full glory reflected now shines on the stream:\n'Tis the star-spangled banner! O long may it wave\nO'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.\n\nAnd where is that band who so vauntingly swore\nThat the havoc of war and the battle's confusion\nA home and a country should leave us no more?\nTheir blood has wiped out their foul footstep's pollution.\nNo refuge could save the hireling and slave\nFrom the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave:\nAnd the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave\nO'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.\n\nOh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand\nBetween their loved homes and the war's desolation!\nBlest with victory and peace, may the heaven-rescued land\nPraise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.\nThen conquer we must, for our cause it is just,\nAnd this be our motto: "In God is our trust."\nAnd the star-spangled banner forever shall wave\nO'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!