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laurynas-dyma Feb 2019
I miss you, Lithuania, my dear.
The green grass of yours.
The blue sky, so magical.
Kindness of your people.
The beautiful language,
the one I can express myself the best with.
You've been through so much,
the tough times of war,
the happy times of independence.
From the Baltic to the Black,
you travelled so far.
Hope your future will be bright,
like the summer's sun in your land.
I will always call you home,
wherever I am.

Mano mieloji Lietuva.
John McCove Nov 2018
My comrade P. is slightly outraged
The knife is honed and spilled with blood
I dance with fairy-mushrooms on the stage
My wooden horses lined-up at the start

And flies together with black crows 
Float through the heavens getting nuts
I feel like hundred-year corpse
I feed meat-hasher with my guts

My ******* fatherland in red
Is getting mossy day by day
I look at it from high above my head
While comrade P. is turning into clay
Mysterious Aries Sep 2015
"I LOVE YOU" A sweet word to the ear
A flower blossoms that to someone you are dear
A paint that will clear the color of your blue
And turns your lonely heart, to a happy you

"I CARE" a word that will bury to a heart
Words that can't forget even to the last breath of a life
A seed that someday will bear sweet fruit
A fruit that will end up my countrymen chaos

Perhaps if I didn't utter "I LOVE YOU" and "I CARE" today
The saddest word that I'll meet someday
Mister Regret a name that will **** my heart
To then my mission be declared as failed

So then to my acquaintance, to my beloved ones
To you my princess, my beloved fatherland
And then again "I LOVE YOU" and "I CARE"

written: Feb. 22, 2001 @ 9:30 am PH Time

Mysterious Aries
Graff1980 Jul 2015
Our nation is a father
Who spends sons unwisely
Wasting their wonder
On warrior blunders

In nations swelling pride
We see our children
Committing suicide
Honor bound to pursue
Patriotic truths

If mothers ran the world
Would it all be better
Or would maternal malice
Malform modern intent

Blue eyes telling lies
Of war and all its’ glories
Grey hair sitting there
In old reclining lawn chairs
Celebrating fantastic stories

But I know the lives lost
Were not always spent wisely
Were not always sacrificed justly
Why does it feel like no one else sees
Have I become Don Quixote

Fatherland motherland
Better planned
Would be brotherhood
And sisterhood
All that love spent for the good

Like this poem
We have lost our way
Perhaps better stanza
Will return the wisdom
Of our better sages
Shivendra Om Jul 2015
I'm a refugee

in a world of

rooted in fatherland
{ English is not my mother tongue. My father was an Italian poet }

by Luca Shivendra Om
© Luca Shivendra Om

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