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Anna Vigue Nov 2013
remember when
you fought to live
fought for our rights
freedom to give
remember when
out at sea
strong waves lashing
courage to be
a warrior fighting
for fellow man
keeping together
our selfish clan
fighting for
our right to be
our right to choices
right to be free
now to honor
your day at last
is it enough?
remembrance past?

I shall give you
every day
my past my future
in every way
I give you thanks
and all respect
every day
and somehow yet
I know that this
is not enough
you fought the war
with much rebuff
all the freedoms
I enjoy
the soldier grew
from a small boy
born to protect
and born to serve
perhaps it's more
than I deserve
Remember
Haydn Swan Sep 2014
We are buried under the sand.
for us, no sun-kissed June day,
no moistness of a morning dew,
no soothing waves between our toes,
no jubilant trumpet to herald our return,
no voice to cheer freedoms new dawn,
we are forever buried under the sand.

© H V Swan
Haydn Swan Sep 2014
Tempestuous sky's so cold and dark,
where no bird flies save lonely lark,
'mongst the shadows, where coldness spreads,
stand sepia shapes of wooden sheds.

Oh whispering wind, what can you tell
of a life of terror and tormented hell
or torrid groans of sleepless souls
under public signs, nailed to poles.

Breath stained glass surrounds a child's shoe
an exhibit in a holocaust zoo.
Silenced bones can speak no guile
'mongst blackened ruins of brick and tile.

These broken spirits now must yield
to unmarked graves in an open field,
''O death where is thy sting ?''
'tis in the voice of these who cannot sing
and when we remember alone in the dark,
think of this place and the lonely lark.

© H V Swan
Written a few years ago as an immediate response to my visit to Auschwitz concentration camp in Poland.
Endless Horizon Aug 2014
I once found a field,
A beautiful field.
A field that humans have not disturbed.

I lived by the trees near this beautiful field.
But I lived in complete ignorance,
as two men, each with a *****,
came to the middle of the grass,
and struck down a wooden plank.

Before long, my forest disappeared.
Instead of grass growing,
The only thing that surfaced,
was the pale gray stone that was laid there.

I watched as they dug deep into the ground,
where tall boxes of stone and glass rose.
They stood proud against one another,
one building higher than the last.
But they blocked my view,
of a once beautiful sky.

Before long, the field turned into a city,
Cars and buses drove though the winding streets.
People soon started to appear,
and the field I once knew was long forgotten.

A fountain has now been placed,
where the pioneers have struck their plank,
With no tree in sight,
I throw the last seed into the water.
Where it settles to the bottom with coins and marbles,
never to sprout.
Poem that I wanted to share. It's long, so I'm sorry. But this isn't my longest lol
Rhiannon Grace Aug 2014
5 years ago

A 13 year old girl awoke
Thinking that everything
Was as it always had been
But still, something didn't feel right

5 years ago

The shock of it all
Numbed the 13 year old girl
She walked around in a daze
Everyday was the same

5 years ago

The flowers piled up
The condolences overwhelmed
The 13 year old girl
Just wanted everything to stop

5 years ago

All the problems started
The selfharm; depression
The 13 year old girl
Turned to thoughts of letting go

5 years ago

On exactly this day
I, a 13 year old girl awoke
But everything was not okay
Nothing felt right

5 years later

An 18 year old girl
Grieves the loss of her mother
A 46 year old woman
Who died suddenly

Exactly 5 years ago
I wrote this yesterday in the memory of my mother, Maria Leslie McKay, 07/11/1963 - 06/08/2009
Seán Mac Falls Jul 2014
Sometimes I see her,
In autumn park— sudden rush,
Leaves rustle in wind.
Paul Donnell Jul 2014
You,
Were a wisp of cigarette smoke,
Waiting to be taken by the wind.
A flame dancing madly
And then
   Drowning,
In the wax.
The past can be hurtful if you don't learn to let go*
The past is barbwire
& I'm clenching a handful
Never healing; always bleeding.

I can't let go, closed fists is all I know
Hoarding memories
Not matter how much pain is bestowed
preservationman Jun 2014
Lois Copeland, a longtime friend
It was her sincerity throughout until her end
I remember meeting her the first time at Medgar Evers College
Ms. Copeland’s distinguished personality is what comes to mine
It was her encouraging words in keeping in thine
We continued as friends even up to her death
A woman of wisdom being in her upper 80’s
Ms. Copeland often stated to me, “Go back to church”
She was my inspiration
A second Mom being the indication
In Lois eyes, life was worth living
Salvation was worth keeping
I often want to cry
But I know she would say, “Don’t weep in a try”
Ms. Copeland is saying, “Sorry I didn’t tell you I am going home”
But her advice to me, “I will never ever be alone”
She will be looking down from Heaven
I have gone back to church in her honor and mine
Lois there will always be a place in my heart
It will be your everlasting wisdom that will give me understanding in thinking smart
God has shared your spirit with me
It will be for the world to see
You have journeyed on
But you want all of us to remain strong
Heaven’s reward
The glorified sword
Sleep for everlasting
Your spirit forever embracing
Lois, Heavens gates await
As I continue to walk, I will not hesitate
Thank you for your spiritual love
I see you flying like God’s chosen Dove.
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