Post by Jacqueline D. on Jun 22, 2010 13:25:29 GMT -5
This is Allen's Post!
Do y'all like poetry? Do you like to write poetry? Go ahead and post'em here!
Here are some of mine that I wrote a long time ago. Aside from a few that I've written recently, I haven't really touched on anything poetic in a few years.
On a cold, windy winter night
He met her outside the Tasty Freeze
An auburn tressed lass, an
Angel in faded blue jeans...
And the night passes on
And he wakes up alone.
His heart lightened by love
He moves on to another day...
They got in his truck
Drove to a motel on the edge of town
His hands trembling he held
Her, laid her down.
And the night passes on
And he wakes up alone.
His heart lightened by love
He moves on to another day...
He took her hand, her ring burning his finger
They melted together and time was lost,
Lost and had no meaning
In the midst of their passion...
And the night passes on
And he wakes up alone.
His heart lightened by love
He moves on to another day...
A love true, deep and abiding
A love they have been hiding
A love beyond words and Man
A love that will last till the end...
And the night passes on
And he wakes up alone.
His heart lightened by love
He moves on to another day...
Camp Douglas
In my mind's eye I soar back in time to a place
Where bone-thin men reside on forty acres of land
Bereft of food, of decent clothing, of the dignity of the human race,
Their souls heavy, their hearts sore, their skin as dry as sand.
They called it Andersonville, this home to prisoners of war
A place lacking not due to cruelty, but for want of ability.
It's Commander named Wirz was hanged, went to Death's Door
His name now burns in infamy.
My mind's eye flies across the miles to a place
Where bone-thin men reside on eighty acres of hell
In the city of Chicago, the dignity of the human race
Fell into the abyss; few are around to their stories tell.
They called it Camp Douglas, this corruption of war
A place full of cruelty and malignant ability.
It's nefarious commanders never sent to Death's Door.
Promoted they were, their crimes hidden so few could see.
At night I lay on hard packed earth
In a land that is home, but not..
I dream of you and know it is worth
It to fight for this hard-won spot.
I defended my land today, my dear.
I raised my weapon towards the enemy
And fired as he fired back; I had no fear.
I knew that you were with me.
The foe's ball pierced my arm.
I prayed to God to end the pain
And thanked Him that you came to no harm
As I felt the soothing kiss of rain.
I write, my dear, to say, "I love you."
I will be home as soon as my duty I do.
At night I lay on my soft down bed
In a house that is home, but not.
I dream of you and fear you dead
Fighting for some hard-won spot.
You defend our land, my love.
While I lay at bed and weep,
Praying God to send His dove
So that by me you might sleep.
Please, forgive me my tears.
I know what you are doing is right.
My love, I will allay my fears,
And wait until you are again in my sight.
You wrote to say you love me.
I say, "Hurry and do your duty."
"The Confederate Soldier"
For honor and for glory
The Confederate soldier fought and died.
Hearken to his story;
Our hearts swell with pride.
The Confederate soldier fought and died
To defend his State and family.
Our hearts swell with pride;
His was a glorious destiny!
To defend his State and family
Johnny Reb took up arms.
His was a glorious destiny!
He left the cities and farms.
Johnny Reb took up arms --
Our hearts swell with pride!
He left the cities and farms.
The Confederate soldier fought and died.
Our hearts swell with pride!
His was a glorious destiny!
The Confederate soldier fought and died
To defend his State and family.
His was a glorious destiny!
Hearken to his story.
To defend his State and family
For honor and for glory.
^That one was actually published in Confederate Veteran Magazine back in 2007.
From earliest days we wish to run far,
run far away from our dull families;
Our will, our destiny, to change our star.
To cross over our parents' boundaries.
Yet, a time does come when family stirs
a yearning in our souls, need in our hearts.
We desire to learn of our fathers'
fathers and the roles they played - and our parts.
Thus we are called to genealogy.
Thus are we called to learn our kinfolks' tales,
Whether they lead to the land of banshees
Or perhaps to the cities of black veils.
So listen to your family's stories
for they are much more precious than rubies.
Do y'all like poetry? Do you like to write poetry? Go ahead and post'em here!
Here are some of mine that I wrote a long time ago. Aside from a few that I've written recently, I haven't really touched on anything poetic in a few years.
"The Recorder of Honored Lives"
I am the recorder of honored lives.
But, a poor recorder am I
Who lays (hammered) here in the grass
With Star or Cross etched into skin
Hardened by sorrow and pride.
Laid after the bloody conflict
Or by those who would revere my charges
I am the glorious guardian of honor.
I am the recorder of honored lives.
On my flesh are etched the names:
"Hagin, James S. Lt., C. K
47th Georgia Regiment, Army of Tenessee, C.S.A"
"Sikes, Hampton Co. D
2nd Ga. Inf., C.S.A."
I am the recorder of honored lives.
But, a poor recorder am I.
I am the recorder of honored lives.
But, a poor recorder am I
Who lays (hammered) here in the grass
With Star or Cross etched into skin
Hardened by sorrow and pride.
Laid after the bloody conflict
Or by those who would revere my charges
I am the glorious guardian of honor.
I am the recorder of honored lives.
On my flesh are etched the names:
"Hagin, James S. Lt., C. K
47th Georgia Regiment, Army of Tenessee, C.S.A"
"Sikes, Hampton Co. D
2nd Ga. Inf., C.S.A."
I am the recorder of honored lives.
But, a poor recorder am I.
On a cold, windy winter night
He met her outside the Tasty Freeze
An auburn tressed lass, an
Angel in faded blue jeans...
And the night passes on
And he wakes up alone.
His heart lightened by love
He moves on to another day...
They got in his truck
Drove to a motel on the edge of town
His hands trembling he held
Her, laid her down.
And the night passes on
And he wakes up alone.
His heart lightened by love
He moves on to another day...
He took her hand, her ring burning his finger
They melted together and time was lost,
Lost and had no meaning
In the midst of their passion...
And the night passes on
And he wakes up alone.
His heart lightened by love
He moves on to another day...
A love true, deep and abiding
A love they have been hiding
A love beyond words and Man
A love that will last till the end...
And the night passes on
And he wakes up alone.
His heart lightened by love
He moves on to another day...
"The forest trembles tonight"
The forest trembles tonight
as you lie there on the ground.
The moonlight hides behind roving clouds,
their forms darting like near solid shadows.
As you lie there on the ground
images soar across your mind's eye,
their forms darting like near solid shadows
accompanied by sudden sounds from the night.
Images soar across your mind's eye
Where monsters of old lurk
accompanied by sudden sounds from the night.
The hairs on your neck raise in alarm.
Where monsters of old lurk,
their forms darting like shadows.
The hairs on your neck raise in alarm
as you lie there on the ground.
Their forms darting like shadows,
The moonlight hides behind roving clouds.
As you lie there on the ground
The forest trembles tonight.
The forest trembles tonight
as you lie there on the ground.
The moonlight hides behind roving clouds,
their forms darting like near solid shadows.
As you lie there on the ground
images soar across your mind's eye,
their forms darting like near solid shadows
accompanied by sudden sounds from the night.
Images soar across your mind's eye
Where monsters of old lurk
accompanied by sudden sounds from the night.
The hairs on your neck raise in alarm.
Where monsters of old lurk,
their forms darting like shadows.
The hairs on your neck raise in alarm
as you lie there on the ground.
Their forms darting like shadows,
The moonlight hides behind roving clouds.
As you lie there on the ground
The forest trembles tonight.
"Red Clay Roads"
Red clay roads were his first memories
Mingling with the smell of cattle and trees
As he grew to a man
In that small South Georgia town.
His first love was a girl
Sun-lightened hair awhirl
As he chased her around
His old school's playground.
He shakes his head and smiles
As his mind traverses the miles
From now to then
And he travels back to when...
Red clay roads were his first memories
Mingling with the smell of cattle and trees
As he grew to a man
In the that small South Georgia town.
Friday nights were all
For father and football.
Cheering and groaning
With each win and loss.
But, shame hangs his head
When he recalls what he said
About leaving his home.
And his eyes shine today
when he thinks that...
Red clay roads were his first memories
Mingling with the smell of cattle and trees
As he grew to a man
In that small South Georgia town.
Red clay roads were his first memories
Mingling with the smell of cattle and trees
As he grew to a man
In that small South Georgia town.
His first love was a girl
Sun-lightened hair awhirl
As he chased her around
His old school's playground.
He shakes his head and smiles
As his mind traverses the miles
From now to then
And he travels back to when...
Red clay roads were his first memories
Mingling with the smell of cattle and trees
As he grew to a man
In the that small South Georgia town.
Friday nights were all
For father and football.
Cheering and groaning
With each win and loss.
But, shame hangs his head
When he recalls what he said
About leaving his home.
And his eyes shine today
when he thinks that...
Red clay roads were his first memories
Mingling with the smell of cattle and trees
As he grew to a man
In that small South Georgia town.
Rebel Yell
Cold winter winds bite
Rain drizzles on every
poor bare head today.
The company glides quietly through the wood
Muskets and rifles held in each calloused hand.
Ears strain to every sound, ever aware should
The interlopers ambush this stalwart band.
A sound of fury from ahead
Cannon fire and soldiers' screams.
The wood falls away to show the wounded and dead --
Images forever burned into their dreams.
Defenders of Dixie, Yankee offenders
Lie side by side, flags folded one atop the other.
The wounded cry out as their bodies surrender
Their voices echoing the single word: "Mother!"
The rain continues to fall, the uninjured enemy comes on, determined not to fail.
The stalwart band, St. Andrew's Cross held high, lets out a roar, the proud Rebel Yell.
Time and space entwined on this God-made living sphere
Halt every drop of water from the threatening sky.
The wind dies, their mouths become dry;
Sweating palms and thudding hearts disprove their lack of fear.
No forward charge, no pounding feet from the rear.
No thought, no chance to ask "Why?"
In their hearts their reasons lie.
They fight for all they hold dear.
For their lady loves and their family
For honor, pride, and right
They charge the numberless enemy --
A sea of blue as far as the eye can see.
They contend that force of arms, that might
Does not make right. They will be free.
Time returns with a minié ball's speed.
Muskets and rifles raise against the foe.
None will forget each hero's deed
Done that fateful day so long ago.
The sulfurous smell of gunpowder from rifle and cannon flies
Into the soaking, stormy skies so high above
Like a sacrifice to a bloodthirsty demon whose cries
Form on blue-coated soldiers' lips, soaring on the wings of a black dove.
Chaos ensues on that wintery field made red
By the blood of Southern brothers in arms
The grass below is littered with the dying and dead.
Slaughtered animals on hellacious farms.
For honor they died, for family and land -- their stories we tell...
How Southern brothers fought and fell while on their lips rose the Rebel Yell.
Cold winter winds bite
Rain drizzles on every
poor bare head today.
The company glides quietly through the wood
Muskets and rifles held in each calloused hand.
Ears strain to every sound, ever aware should
The interlopers ambush this stalwart band.
A sound of fury from ahead
Cannon fire and soldiers' screams.
The wood falls away to show the wounded and dead --
Images forever burned into their dreams.
Defenders of Dixie, Yankee offenders
Lie side by side, flags folded one atop the other.
The wounded cry out as their bodies surrender
Their voices echoing the single word: "Mother!"
The rain continues to fall, the uninjured enemy comes on, determined not to fail.
The stalwart band, St. Andrew's Cross held high, lets out a roar, the proud Rebel Yell.
Time and space entwined on this God-made living sphere
Halt every drop of water from the threatening sky.
The wind dies, their mouths become dry;
Sweating palms and thudding hearts disprove their lack of fear.
No forward charge, no pounding feet from the rear.
No thought, no chance to ask "Why?"
In their hearts their reasons lie.
They fight for all they hold dear.
For their lady loves and their family
For honor, pride, and right
They charge the numberless enemy --
A sea of blue as far as the eye can see.
They contend that force of arms, that might
Does not make right. They will be free.
Time returns with a minié ball's speed.
Muskets and rifles raise against the foe.
None will forget each hero's deed
Done that fateful day so long ago.
The sulfurous smell of gunpowder from rifle and cannon flies
Into the soaking, stormy skies so high above
Like a sacrifice to a bloodthirsty demon whose cries
Form on blue-coated soldiers' lips, soaring on the wings of a black dove.
Chaos ensues on that wintery field made red
By the blood of Southern brothers in arms
The grass below is littered with the dying and dead.
Slaughtered animals on hellacious farms.
For honor they died, for family and land -- their stories we tell...
How Southern brothers fought and fell while on their lips rose the Rebel Yell.
Camp Douglas
In my mind's eye I soar back in time to a place
Where bone-thin men reside on forty acres of land
Bereft of food, of decent clothing, of the dignity of the human race,
Their souls heavy, their hearts sore, their skin as dry as sand.
They called it Andersonville, this home to prisoners of war
A place lacking not due to cruelty, but for want of ability.
It's Commander named Wirz was hanged, went to Death's Door
His name now burns in infamy.
My mind's eye flies across the miles to a place
Where bone-thin men reside on eighty acres of hell
In the city of Chicago, the dignity of the human race
Fell into the abyss; few are around to their stories tell.
They called it Camp Douglas, this corruption of war
A place full of cruelty and malignant ability.
It's nefarious commanders never sent to Death's Door.
Promoted they were, their crimes hidden so few could see.
"A Letter to My Love on the Eve of First Manassas"
At night I lay on hard packed earth
In a land that is home, but not..
I dream of you and know it is worth
It to fight for this hard-won spot.
I defended my land today, my dear.
I raised my weapon towards the enemy
And fired as he fired back; I had no fear.
I knew that you were with me.
The foe's ball pierced my arm.
I prayed to God to end the pain
And thanked Him that you came to no harm
As I felt the soothing kiss of rain.
I write, my dear, to say, "I love you."
I will be home as soon as my duty I do.
"A Letter to My Dear After First Manassas"
At night I lay on my soft down bed
In a house that is home, but not.
I dream of you and fear you dead
Fighting for some hard-won spot.
You defend our land, my love.
While I lay at bed and weep,
Praying God to send His dove
So that by me you might sleep.
Please, forgive me my tears.
I know what you are doing is right.
My love, I will allay my fears,
And wait until you are again in my sight.
You wrote to say you love me.
I say, "Hurry and do your duty."
"The Confederate Soldier"
For honor and for glory
The Confederate soldier fought and died.
Hearken to his story;
Our hearts swell with pride.
The Confederate soldier fought and died
To defend his State and family.
Our hearts swell with pride;
His was a glorious destiny!
To defend his State and family
Johnny Reb took up arms.
His was a glorious destiny!
He left the cities and farms.
Johnny Reb took up arms --
Our hearts swell with pride!
He left the cities and farms.
The Confederate soldier fought and died.
Our hearts swell with pride!
His was a glorious destiny!
The Confederate soldier fought and died
To defend his State and family.
His was a glorious destiny!
Hearken to his story.
To defend his State and family
For honor and for glory.
^That one was actually published in Confederate Veteran Magazine back in 2007.
"Genealogy"
From earliest days we wish to run far,
run far away from our dull families;
Our will, our destiny, to change our star.
To cross over our parents' boundaries.
Yet, a time does come when family stirs
a yearning in our souls, need in our hearts.
We desire to learn of our fathers'
fathers and the roles they played - and our parts.
Thus we are called to genealogy.
Thus are we called to learn our kinfolks' tales,
Whether they lead to the land of banshees
Or perhaps to the cities of black veils.
So listen to your family's stories
for they are much more precious than rubies.
"Hunting Deer"
White-tailed deer grazes
on green grass on a Fall day,
blind to its surrounds.
A noise startles
the dear into action.
It runs to the woods
and the predator misses
his one shot with a loud curse.
He sits back and thinks
as his camera lowers:
"What did I do wrong?"
White-tailed deer grazes
on green grass on a Fall day,
blind to its surrounds.
A noise startles
the dear into action.
It runs to the woods
and the predator misses
his one shot with a loud curse.
He sits back and thinks
as his camera lowers:
"What did I do wrong?"