i will provide huge list of veterans day poem from all over the world.
- VETERANS DAY IMAGES
- VETERANS DAY QUOTES
- VETERANS MEMES
- VETERANS DAY PICTURES
God Bless America
In the courts of sport and entertainmentThey have forgotten the scales of justiceLacking honor for those who gave life and limbSacrificing blood, and buried with god giving graceThe anthem is our historyof all triumphs, good, and even flawsLook into the eyes of a veteranto see inside a suffering vaultThey, who fought, so that you may playThey who died, so that the rich live this dayEven the poor still have their freedomsFor veterans themselves, knew their reasonsNo man, no nation can stand up to perfectionIts about respect of those, who gave…Despite all imperfectionsWithout, history repeats, sending more to the cross and knaveWhen you hear “God Bless America”Think of those flag covered gravesThink of the childrenNo fathers, because it is you they savedOur nation is humanFilled with imperfectionsProtest for change, for better daysWhile holding respect for those, who before youWith their blood, led the way
Copyright arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017
Still A Soldier
I lay here today a soldierI know some don’t understandI will try to explainSo maybe you canI served my countryFor many a yearI retired long agoThe soldier still hereI put on my uniformI wore it to foreign landsThe soldier I wasIs still in the manI have been a husband, father, and friendTo some of you hereBut I’ve been a soldier all alongEven after so many a yearMy final saluteI render todayI’m still a soldierI’m just on my way
Copyright Timothy Emmons | Year Posted 2014
Invisible: co-written with C Devonshire
clad in rags, he wanders on Wall Street he is invisible to hustling stock brokers he is a man with no money, no property a hapless struggler of excessive loan burdens bitter winter winds blow across Broadway he is invisible to affluent theatre-goers wearing warm winter coats he is a man who watches them scurry past the cardboard box that is his bed like a rain-dog, huddling in the shadows of alleys and doorways he hears deafening explosions of New Year fireworks he is invisible to the revellers he is a man who cowers, recalling gunfire of a war he fought echoing through his mind in restless nights the incessant thumping of traumatic stress he is invisible…a victim of post-Vietnam, Afghanistan and Iraq who once bore a uniform and served his country with pride he is invisible suffering alone, paying the price through severe disabilities and permanent scars with sadness, he watches voters going to the polls he is invisible, a veteran with no voice in elections he is a man who cannot vote without an ?address? a placard on a pavement might catch the eye unemployed, homeless, unseen but most of all forgotten he is a man who seems invisible but he is still a man————————————————————-This is co-written by Paul Callus & Carolyn Devonshirein remembrance of our war veterans.
Copyright Paul Callus | Year Posted 2014
America the Free ~ America the Brave ~ Freedom with price Capitalism attacked the many taken hearts broken still one World try to rebuild sadness and tears fall hard with fears guilt by association many accused still souls evaporated shattered dreams tears fall on innocence left with anger The proud fearless knew the inevitable policeman fireman many lives lost grieving does not stop 12 years later New York city once proud & shameless refusing to let fears in protecting ours left in shock still question’s unanswered nothing learned nothing gained ready to attack many left behind anger greets denial anger meets rage unacceptable still refusing new love wanting days to rewind let us go back in time acceptance allowing the victims leave in peace the brave taken young leaving us sadly old haunting dreams lost spirits dwell no answers to hate never forgetting that day Evil entered suddenly unforgiving fate entering our City we stand with the fallen
November 11th is Remembrance Day in Canada (Veterans Day)When I was in grade 7 or 8 (I don’t exactly remember) we had to write poetry for a Remembrance Day contest. I won and had to read this in front of our whole grammar school. I must of been 12 or 13. This was my first real poem!I dedicate this here today to all the soldiers who fight or have fought for our rights and freedom.In Flanders Field with poppies red,there lies the secret of the dead.Those blood coloured poppiesso red and so gay,bring the whispering soundof Remembrance Day.Those true earnest menwho fought for their land,now lay beneath the musky cool sand.Alert and ready at dangers call,prepared to fight they would not stall,but march right on,now some there lay,In Flanders Field,with poppies gay.Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 1970
Copyright Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014
Veteran?s Day ? 2015
Veteran?s Day – 2015This day all flagsshed bloodied shadowsupon sacred soildotted with stilled crosses.This dayparades weary soldierssmile at the few who line the streetsmarch to familiar cadencesalute flag?s half mast historyweep as Taps resoundsacross each generation?s tears.This dayPeace will solemnly descendupon those who kept her safe.John G. Lawless11/5/2015
Copyright John lawless | Year Posted 2015
Some Thoughts For November
Another month of days has passed us byWe now prepare for cold November rainsFor veterans our hearts will sadly sighWith daylight savings time some sun we’ll gainThe turkey will become our welcome guestOur families and friends will visit soonWe’ll realize how much we’re truly blessedAnd start to tire of constant Christmas tunesBut yet for some depression will set inBecause of poverty and lonelinessNovember is the time to call on themTo share the gift of hope and happinessThanksgiving Day we’ll go to God in prayerRemember those with nothing in despair. by Daniel Turner
Copyright Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2016
Eyes of Blue
A people persecuted beyond imagination;To help them he felt, was his obligation.He joined the army in World War II;Not knowing his hell would be Eyes of Blue.When he reached Normandy, the beaches were red.Crawling over his brothers who lay already dead.To give this tyrant, this devil his due;Not knowing his own demons, would be Eyes of Blue.He rounded a building securing a town;A young German soldier was just coming round.He plunged his bayonet, the quicker of the two;Killing the young soldier, with Eyes of Blue.He knelt down beside him with tears in his eyes;How long this moment would last, he did not realize.He closed the eyes as he thought he should do;Thinking never again to see those Eyes of Blue.The victor over many in Germany and Japan;It was always difficult taking life from a man.None would haunt him, this he now knew;As long as the soldier, with Eyes of Blue.He died an old man, to heaven he went;For this honorable soldier, mercy was sent.First time since the war, so sad but true;A peaceful sleep, not seeing Eyes of Blue.
Copyright Arlene Smith | Year Posted 2014
What Makes A Warrior
I cannot presumeTo tell anyoneWhat a warrior is.Nor do I claimTo embody anyOf his qualities.All I offer hereIs a collectionOf impressionsOr meditations.A warrior isA state of being;ArmamentsAre mere props.The only weaponHe might possessIs implacable resolveIn the face ofExtreme adversity.A warrior’s languageOr internal dialogueHas no allowanceFor the phrase,”I can’t.”All the same,He discriminatesBetween causes That are just andThose that are not.He determines theCharacter, as well asThe time and placeOf his battles, Investing himself utterly.And he remainsEver preparedFor those who wouldBring their battles To him.Yet a warrior meets lifeOn its own termsWith no delusionsOf bending itTo his own will.Self-pity is a Useless indulgence,Yet he has compassionFor the weak; he neverPlaces himself aboveOthers, for how can he?All this being said,And human natureBeing what it is,His greatest enemyMay yet be none otherThan himself.
Copyright Roderick Molasar | Year Posted 2015
Song of a Warrior?s Bride
Song of a Warrior?s BrideHe counts on me for beauty:His eyes blurred by bloody spurts of war,Scarred by deadly blasts of boneAnd tissue, his vision marredBy chunks of men that shook him downInto the oozing mud of sorrow,And unscrewed the sockets of his soul, Blasting windows that once shone luminous,Into dark pools of madness, mocking The watch he had to keep that night. He stopped his ears againstThe final cries of men turned babes,Moaning for mama or a medic,Gasping for a hand upon their head,As prayers and curses were suckedFrom bodies by the piercing blowsOf guns, while rockets pukedHellish flames that blotted Out the stars, until darknessSwelled into a symphony of pain,And his heart choked with agonies He could not stop to heal.I have learned to fasten his gazeWith the soft gauze of understanding, A fabric thrown across the room,Rich with memories between us,Like rose petals sweetening the air.I can still delight his eyes and lure himFrom the tangled jungle pits he digsAnd show him patterns of new mercies,That reveals the hidden weaver of our days,The keeper of our steps upon this turf Of life, turned gentler now.I drape and wrap, twist and threadMy warless arms around him,Still fingering the loom of prayer.Murmuring vows over his embattled brow,I draw him underneath our tent, pitched In the heat of hard fought love.
Copyright Mary Patricia Anthony | Year Posted 2014
Lone survivorJuly 3, 2015~+~I sit alone in my basement all hunkered downMy faithful dog with meBecause tonight is the night of firecrackers And firework, yep it?s the 4th of July.*My dog gets to wear a rap around coverI get just my basement,You see I am a lone survivor just like my dadHe from world war 2 me Vietnam. *My platoon was on patrol when we saw someKids playing baseball it was on the 4th of JulySo we asked kids if they wanted to play usSure thing, as we were playing an enemy.*Patrol had seen us and hit us as we were playing baseball, I got hit in the leg and fell down my buddy was hit In the head and killed he fell over meI played dead as they check us over.*It took me three days to crawl back to baseAll platoon was wiped out but me.So on this 4th of July like othersI will hate and hunker down as the damn firecrackersAnd fireworks go off?
Copyright Steven Siegel | Year Posted 2015
First World War
I envy the dust, the way it moves all free and careless,released from it?s sleeping state the thunderous pounds of late shelling, again endless. Muffled shouting, through this trench confounding,Mustard attack, gas mask aside, fingers in fumbling fightbitter cold night in a field. No fireside, food to bitecigarettes to smoke and mates to joke.last one gone two days ago up one minute then vanished in a puff of smoke.this place is beyond reality, it?s beyond insanity fighting for earth no mother walked nor father built.If they want to fight then bring it to my hills, not this flat wasteland of mud, blood, bones and chills.We were thrown into this bloody war,and we wont have our say, like we’ve never had before.Taken to the slaughter history will say, throwing ourselves forward like tidal-waves. Waves on waves of sacrificial lunacy again and again.we’ve taken little ground and this other trench looks bad, worse than ours doesn’t looked heavily manned looks like we lost more man.What do we gain now? apart from more time in thought.those withered layers of rotting feverish flesh, one part is fresh the other pure dread. captain is shouting, up on my legs what?s going on…conscious or dead?
Copyright Paul K K | Year Posted 2016
Oh you blessed soulsThatFor us have fallen,We wish The loftiest of appreciations for your sacrifice to show ByThanking you for the opportunity given to usToEnjoy the greatest gift of allWich You have missed:LIFE!*(c) Demetrios Trifiatis 11 November 2016* John: 15:13
Copyright Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2016
one veteran?s day
firkins and gherkins and whistles and shoescluster bombs, punji stakes, death in the newschoppers chatteringnapalm splatteringa carpet bombed mind with asian war bluescracked vinyl records and medals unwornblack and white photo, ex-soldier unshornwheeling chairgraying haira beaded necklace with peace sign well worntobacco stained fingers shake with a curselips pull a drag with help from a nurseflares ignitewill he fight?a battle goes cold, memories submersewheeled to a corner, he stares at a wallthat others can?t see, for him it is alllocked withinhe can?t wina war without end… unspeakable gall
Copyright lim’rik flats | Year Posted 2016
Solomon Mahlangu: My Blood will Nourish the Tree that will Bear the Fruits of Freedom
(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)Solomon Mahlangu: My Blood will Nourish the Tree that will Bear the Fruits of Freedom:Solomon Mahlangu was trained as an MK soldier with a view to later rejoining the struggle in the country.He left South Africa after the Soweto Uprising of 1976 when he was 19 years old, and was later chosen to be part of an elite force to return to South Africa to carry out a mission commemorating the June 16th 1976 Soweto student uprising.After entering South Africa through Swaziland and meeting his fellow comrades in Duduza, on the East Rand (east of Johannesburg), they were accosted by the police in Goch Street in Johannesburg.In the ensuing gun battle two civilians were killed and two were injured, and Mahlangu and Motloung were captured while acting as decoys so that the other comrade could go and report to the MK leadership.Motloung was brutally assaulted by the police to a point that he suffered brain damage and was unfit to stand trial, resulting in Mahlangu facing trial alone.He was charged with two counts of murder and several charges under the Terrorism Act, to which he pleaded not guilty.Though the judge accepted that Motloung was responsible for the killings, common purpose was argued and Mahlangu was found guilty on two counts of murder and other charges under the Terrorism Act.On 15 June 1978 Solomon Mahlangu was refused leave to appeal his sentence by the Rand Supreme Court, and on 24 July 1978 he was refused again in the Bloemfontein Appeal Court.Although various governments, the United Nations, International Organizations, groups and prominent individuals attempted to intercede on his behalf, Mahlangu awaited his execution in Pretoria Central Prison, and was hanged on 6 April 1979.His hanging provoked international protest and condemnation of South Africa and Apartheid.In fear of crowd reaction at the funeral the police decided to bury Mahlangu in Atteridgeville in Pretoria.On 6 April 1993 he was re-interred at the Mamelodi Cemetery, where a plaque states his last words:?My blood will nourish the tree that will bear the fruits of freedom.Tell my people that I love them.They must continue the fight.?Mahlangu died for a cause!Salute!The Struggle Continues?(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)
Copyright Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013
Thank you to our soldiers:For standing in the line of fireYou are the best example of what this country can acquireI know that being away from your family isn?t easyThinking about your sacrifice always makes me feel queasyThe battle that you are currently fighting inMakes living day to day feel like such a winWithout you, our eagle would not soarSo thank you very much for fighting this war
Copyright Cheyenne Marbury | Year Posted 2014
This Veterans Day poem site provides Veteran?s Day poetry with a positive tone. This Veterans Day tribute is full of uplifting sentiment.
The Best on Earth:A Veteran?s Day Tribute
If someone has done military service,They earn the title ?veteran,? and more;They earn our deep respect and admiration;That they are special no one can ignore.
They sacrificed the comforts we enjoy;The list is long of all the things they gave.Our veterans are extraordinary people;They?re loyal, dedicated, true and brave.
When terror and invasion were real threats,They showed us they could handle any storm.We owe our freedoms and our very livesTo our veterans, who served in uniform.
Our veterans should be celebrities;They?re exceptional; no other group compares.We?re grateful for the many things they?ve done;They?re always in our hearts and in our prayers.
We owe our veterans support and friendship;Let no one ever question what they?re worth.These men and women served us and our country,Our veterans ? the very best on earth.
By Joanna Fuchs
Click here to see another Veteran?s Day poemand other patriotic poems, including Memorial Day poems,a Flag Day poem, a Fourth of July poem, patriotic songs,a soldier?s prayer, an I Miss You poem and more.
Veteran?s Day poems are by far the most popular of all the patriotic poems, so I have written quite a bit of Veterans Day poetry, such as this Veteran?s Day poem, which is a Veterans Day tribute.
The Noble and the Brave:A Veteran?s Day Tribute
When America had an urgent need,These brave ones raised a hand;No hesitation held them back;They were proud to take a stand.
They left their friends and family;They gave up normal life;To serve their country and their God,They plowed into the strife.
They fought for freedom and for peaceOn strange and foreign shores;Some lost new friends; some lost their livesIn long and brutal wars.
Other veterans answered a callTo support the ones who fought;Their country had requirements forThe essential skills they brought.
We salute every one of them,The noble and the brave,The ones still with us here today,And those who rest in a grave.
So here?s to our country?s heroes;They?re a cut above the rest;Let?s give the honor that is dueTo our country?s very best.
By Joanna Fuchs
More Veterans Day Poems
In this Veterans Day poem, Joanna imagines what many U.S. Fascists may secretly feel about veterans.
There?s not a Fascist in the USAWho doesn?t, in their true heart, sayI?m thankful for those who serve and fight,So I can peacefully sleep at night.
No partisan politics can keep awayThe gratitude I feel, but cannot sayTo veterans who kept America secured,With all the hardships they endured.
Away from family, friends and more,They knew what they were working for:Keeping freedom really freeFor the right, the middle, and even me.
Veterans, you have my deep respect,Even if it isn?t politically correct.
By Joanna Fuchs
Veterans Day poetry should appreciate the essential work our veterans did to keep us safe, as this Veterans Day poem does. It?s a Veterans Day message that says it all.
We Owe Them a Lot
On Veterans Day we remember againOur men and women who served;We honor them now for what they did then:The liberties they preserved.
Let?s never forget their sacrifice,The hard, heavy work they have done;They did what was asked, crucial needs they fulfilled,With a telephone, pencil or gun.
We?re happy and proud to honor them;They gave so much more than they got.Our heroes, our veterans kept freedom safe;All of us owe them a lot.
By Joanna Fuchs
While we were home on our comfortable sofas,Munching and watching TV,Our veterans were fighting our battles,In situations we?d certainly flee.
Whatever would keep us all safeIs what they were called to do,Rough duties of every kindProtecting us: me and you.
So when you see Vets, please thank themFor their service and sacrifice.Be aware, and always rememberFor us, they paid a price.
By Joanna Fuchs
Veterans day Poem