Most Liked Patriotism Poems (214)

By the dawns early light..
we meet Smoke..
Hell..
and.....Fire..

By the dawns early light..
Spirit battles Spirit..

By the dawns early light..
Courage shall not flinch..

By the dawns early light..
The sword of Independence
will crush the foe..

You do not want to meet us
at noon..

You do not want to meet us
at night..

You do not want to meet us..
By The Dawns Early Light!

I have came back, to where I came
To tell you this, It's no the same
I missed it so every day,
folk would ask me,
Why do I stay,
So far away, fae ma ain kind
There's somethin missin in your mind,
I'm sure it was my heart they meant,
The ache, the love that was absent,
they never new or understood,
I can't explain, I never would!

As i grow older i see my life that has been
images stored in my head locked away not to be seen
for i am the only one with the key
should i open an image today with my speacial key

that image stored in my head for only me to see
clear as day lovinly created in my head family images of times gone by friends ,relatives some long since gone by lovingly stored in every detail locked secured inside my head

lots of images i foundly look back on my past locked away for i am the only one with the key
images that bring me joy some of saddness some of fear some images that will not go away of bad times that i wish would go away
family members locked away in my head that i see they are not forgotten my me

The gloomy ghost of death wanders deceitfully and stilly,
What has been done, he only knows.
The mind knocks at doors aggrievedly
Looking for a place to stay covertly…
The wind of grief is repenting the sins,
Day is a slave of old deprival,
People drink tears with the palms affined
Tears of the old whip and a new history.
Losing again the mind by its own bite
And still amazed at the false delusions,
Flam hastily leaves the own mother
In the incomplete and feeble darkness.
And the children with the exceeding gladness
Leaving the fusion behind
Give their lives for the liberty
And disappear among the lightful stars…
It is a stage for joyance and cry
Who will echo to our mourn?
It will rain on this Earth,
Children dreams’re troubled.
Where should I hide these crazy beings
Not making them the slave of your blood ?
Don’t build a fire on the roots,
I can’t respond to Ararats…

With the swiftly swaying thought of becoming a helpmate
He contemplated the general apocalypse, yet coming closer to his own apocalypse.
He vanished and no longer can expatiate,
For egocentric is in nature his soul on lips.

Dear faithful fighter do betray it.
Lose thy utopian reason to save thy own reason.
Tender thy heart that's utterly gelid.
Save the silence in the season.

The azure above, distracted of the graceful tribute shots
Prevailed before and after the raucous trumpets and heavy boots.
For is it the first or the second or the mere another in dots
That in the Roll of Honour grew his roots -

For they forgotten and you forgot and so might I forget.

A people shunned, a people hushed
Their freedom turned to sand
No right to speak, no right to be
The people of this land
Their children taken from their homes
And thrown into a cell
The families sit with no recourse
As they live out this hell
An evil man who rules them all
He sits atop a bloody throne
And all the while, his missiles fly
As he destroys his own
The world looked on, with blinded eyes
And tried to form a pact
But 9/11 came to pass
So now its time to act
The USA, and Britain too
Charged in, ideals held near
To oust the one, who for so long
Had ruled his land with fear
The bombs they fell, the rockets flew
The air-raid sirens blare
They sound of freedom coming home
From decades of despair
The mighty tanks, they rumbled on
From town to town they went
We had to be, so very sure
The message had been sent
The smoke has cleared, but people weep
From all the death they see
But they shall learn, just as we have
That freedom is not free
So we shall stay, as guardians
And never turn our back
For it can never be again
The prison of Iraq.

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A voice spoke deep inside crossing that borderline

The wind creeped below the shell of my soul to settle for which unknown

A quiet mystery penetrates the soul

Fields flowing to and fro, calling calling calling

Reaching out so hard and fast I knew not a name to be called

The longing had begun, a call to rest the weary soul

Home, home, home how can this be

A strange land to the eyes behold having not stepped before

I look one flight to my eyes a wonder

Gently rolling hills of grass and trees

Sharp crevices etched upon thee

Post after post, intertwined with barbwire

What do I see before me, calling my name calling calling

Home home home how can this be

The richness of the beauty bringing longing to thy soul

Simple and quaint marked by time,

Unmarked in the ageless flight of life

Strong backs behold here is the place

Where solid folks rest their make

Against sun worn days of toil and trouble

Solid in their stance of what is has always been

And forever shall be

Life in the towns, pastures and plains to see

Lasting into eternity

Calling my name again to be alive for times of solid lines

Hold strong to the past moving gently forward

Strong I will need to remove the citified appendages,

The anger of the crowd and lost souls encountered

Strength comes from that which is solid and fertile

A tree cannot grow in cemented ground

Wide open spaces and fertile ground to spread and nourish

Here is where I call my home

It called me over and over set your roots to be planted

Tend gently in fertile ground, solid footings will be found

I will heal, and I will hurt but I will heal again

For it is calling unto my soul this is the land, this is the place

And it is ready to undo what is wrong

A whole lot of toil to nourish the loss

Home home home this is how it be

I lay there for hours
cheek pressed to damp soil,
breathing through one nostril
least the enemy still toil...

I dozed off and on as the sun
and moon traded place...
Crickets sang while ants
formed beautiful black lace...

Working feverishly in the red pond
haloing my head, warming me,
I slept until the cricket choir
opened act three...

Not as loud now, I strained
to hear their melody...
Yearned for them to sing louder,
sing, sing for me!...

Are they leaving or am I,
where is the black lace?...
Job complete the ants marched on,
their bounty carried to a hidden place...

Floating now, high above the fray,
I see, in dried mud encased,
something familiar yet strange to me,
the imprint of my face...

Swirling up into the sky, escaping from the abyss of the alibis.
Memories inprisoned by walls of stone.
Words sprouting as if cast out of devils home.
Years and years claimed its ground.
Roots reaching to claim their destiny.
Through territory of times that are gone.
Traveling sometimes entwined sometimes alone.
Standing unshook while winds beat it with their souls.
Summer comes with colors green covering bare limbs.
Oak tree standing proud facing morning sun.
Thanks to wind for leaves and nuts that came undone.
Little oak growing by its side.
Destiny.
The rains cried!!!