|
Patriotic
poems keep the spirit alive of national identity and charisma of
nationalism. Especially in this day and age, where
unfortunately war has wreaked havoc in the world. Troops
fighting for causes that a nation feels right and ethical need
the positive and supportive effort of its people and patriotic
poetry expresses the attitudes and pride in the nation’s
achievements and culture. Patriotic poems show the desire to
preserve its character and the basis of the culture, and
identification with other members of the nation to push forward
to remain a strong and sovereign nation.
It is with great trepidation and a profound sense of grief and sorrow, that we humbly embark on a journey to present the world with a collection of poetry written by plain people like you and I on a subject that has impassioned every person around the world, September 11 2001. The feelings brought out in this collection come from the inner-most recesses of their hearts and souls. Our thoughts and prayers go out to the families who lost loved ones on that fateful day.
Patriotic Poems, Memorial Poems, War Poems
Does war scare you or does it awaken a Patriotic spirit within you? Do you feel war is the right thing or are we risking our lives and the lives of others? Do you have a Memorial Poem to remember a loved one lost during combat or who gave their lives for our great country? Do you feel patriotic these days? Poetry is one of the best ways to let your feelings known. We want to read your views on war, patriotism or just a memorial for those you love.
|
|
Family Poem of the Day
JUBILANT FATHER
His face is like a sun, warms the moon beside him.
She´s grown full; tonight begins the waning.
The tide pulls through her very bones,
her form aches as each wave crests.
The earth pulse, heavy, blood warm within her
Beats new chords, old sun god chants.
"You are the first mother and the last,
all spring flesh has traveled through you."
Aztec plumed and gold beaded,
your priest kneels at the holy alter,
gathers each salt pearl shed, nectar for his sacrament.
You are the temple,
we pilgrims swept through the gates,
bent figures know the scent and petals of your presence,
spread our arms to harvest blossoms,
and your priest, sun struck, kneels beside you.
- CRISTINE McAULIFFE
Quote of the Day
|
JUBILANT FATHER
His face is like a sun, warms the moon beside him.
She´s grown full; tonight begins the waning.
The tide pulls through her very bones,
her form aches as each wave crests.
The earth pulse, heavy, blood warm within her
Beats new chords, old sun god chants.
"You are the first mother and the last,
all spring flesh has traveled through you."
Aztec plumed and gold beaded,
your priest kneels at the holy alter,
gathers each salt pearl shed, nectar for his sacrament.
You are the temple,
we pilgrims swept through the gates,
bent figures know the scent and petals of your presence,
spread our arms to harvest blossoms,
and your priest, sun struck, kneels beside you.
- CRISTINE McAULIFFE |
|
|
|
|
|
