"reb" poems - Hello Poetry

They stood across the battlefield Facing against each other these days When the guns silenced they'd meet One wore blue and one wore gray The two men shared coffee and smokes Talked about family and life as soldiers Laughing at some crude little jokes And what they'd do when the war was over Every conversation ended the same way They'd look at each other and say 'I'll see you in hell Johnny Reb' 'I'll see you in hell Billy Yank' They both knew that someday soon Their paths may cross through the haze And see each other across the way Through that ****** and deadly space So far luck has been their lady Seemed like the war will last an eternity Both longed for home and their family Born brothers but now they're enemies They both remembered it the same way They'd look at each other and say 'I'll see you in hell Johnny Reb' 'I'll see you in hell Billy Yank' Every battle could be a very tough time Back home for their dear mother She always just asked herself why? What if her only children killed each other? She was all alone in bluegrass Kentucky Shielded herself from the news of war Always praying for them to be lucky Her poor heart just couldn't take it anymore Her final words were written in ink As she mumbled the words to say 'I'll see you in heaven Johnny Reb' 'I'll see you in heaven Billy Yank' Cannons boomed from a nearby hill Bullets whistled like hornets overhead The ground was red from blood that spilled One can't walk without stepping on the dead The smoke cleared as the sun fell away Two wounded men lay beside each other One wore blue and one wore gray Morality wounded they held one another The brothers struggled for a final breath They looked at each other to say 'I'll see you at home Johnny Reb' 'I'll see you at home Billy Yank' © 2020 Michael Messinger(All rights reserved)

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Jan 15, 2020

Jan 15, 2020 at 9:22 PM UTC

michael-messinger

Johnny Reb and Billy Yank

They stood across the battlefield Facing against each other these days When the guns silenced they'd meet One wore blue and one wore gray The two men shared coffee and smokes Talked about family and life as soldiers Laughing at some crude little jokes And what they'd do when the war was over Every conversation ended the same way They'd look at each other and say 'I'll see you in hell Johnny Reb' 'I'll see you in hell Billy Yank' They both knew that someday soon Their paths may cross through the haze And see each other across the way Through that ****** and deadly space So far luck has been their lady Seemed like the war will last an eternity Both longed for home and their family Born brothers but now they're enemies They both remembered it the same way They'd look at each other and say 'I'll see you in hell Johnny Reb' 'I'll see you in hell Billy Yank' Every battle could be a very tough time Back home for their dear mother She always just asked herself why? What if her only children killed each other? She was all alone in bluegrass Kentucky Shielded herself from the news of war Always praying for them to be lucky Her poor heart just couldn't take it anymore Her final words were written in ink As she mumbled the words to say 'I'll see you in heaven Johnny Reb' 'I'll see you in heaven Billy Yank' Cannons boomed from a nearby hill Bullets whistled like hornets overhead The ground was red from blood that spilled One can't walk without stepping on the dead The smoke cleared as the sun fell away Two wounded men lay beside each other One wore blue and one wore gray Morality wounded they held one another The brothers struggled for a final breath They looked at each other to say 'I'll see you at home Johnny Reb' 'I'll see you at home Billy Yank' © 2020 Michael Messinger(All rights reserved)

49

The year of Eighteen Sixty Five Lincoln, shot and dead The war was all but over Destruction in it's stead Blue and Grey divided A nation great and strong Was there ever a true winner? So much of this was wrong Brothers against brothers Tearing families apart It was a war with different issues At Fort Sumter did it start Slaves were not the forefront When the war became a war It was a war to stop secession Then it became so much more Johnny Reb comes marching home Not the home that he once knew It was now a state of new rebuilding There was no more Grey, just Blue Did it truly make the country Unified under one flag? Or did it become so much more splintered Under a torn and tattered rag? A President was murdered But, the war, continued on The ties that once did bind them Were now just truly gone The beauty of the country Burned on Shermans' seaward trek Left the Southern states demolished And the plantations, just a wreck The slaves were granted freedom Through Emancipation at the end But, in the south, it never happened The landowners had to bend Although the war was over Slaves were free men after all But, with nowhere left to go to It was like a game without a ball Many stayed and cropshared Worked the same land as before Now, they worked the land as freemen Nothing less, and nothing more Brothers still divided Blue and Grey deep in their souls Almost eight score years have passed And the nation is still not whole Grant and Lee at Appomatox Ended the war and sent men on their way But, it took days for the message to be heard and Many more died in those days Three Quarters of a Million Lost their lives, in this young nation One thing never altered The place of a man's station It split apart the country Broke it down, to build anew But, did it really matter Now, with Johnny Reb in Blue?

0

Jan 18, 2013

Jan 18, 2013 at 8:33 PM UTC

roger-turner

Johnny comes marching home

The year of Eighteen Sixty Five Lincoln, shot and dead The war was all but over Destruction in it's stead Blue and Grey divided A nation great and strong Was there ever a true winner? So much of this was wrong Brothers against brothers Tearing families apart It was a war with different issues At Fort Sumter did it start Slaves were not the forefront When the war became a war It was a war to stop secession Then it became so much more Johnny Reb comes marching home Not the home that he once knew It was now a state of new rebuilding There was no more Grey, just Blue Did it truly make the country Unified under one flag? Or did it become so much more splintered Under a torn and tattered rag? A President was murdered But, the war, continued on The ties that once did bind them Were now just truly gone The beauty of the country Burned on Shermans' seaward trek Left the Southern states demolished And the plantations, just a wreck The slaves were granted freedom Through Emancipation at the end But, in the south, it never happened The landowners had to bend Although the war was over Slaves were free men after all But, with nowhere left to go to It was like a game without a ball Many stayed and cropshared Worked the same land as before Now, they worked the land as freemen Nothing less, and nothing more Brothers still divided Blue and Grey deep in their souls Almost eight score years have passed And the nation is still not whole Grant and Lee at Appomatox Ended the war and sent men on their way But, it took days for the message to be heard and Many more died in those days Three Quarters of a Million Lost their lives, in this young nation One thing never altered The place of a man's station It split apart the country Broke it down, to build anew But, did it really matter Now, with Johnny Reb in Blue?

60

Are you scared Johnny Reb? Yeah I guess I am too With each re-enactment The grey and the blues Get under my skin 'til it's just me and you In our animal colors All black and bad news Are you scared Johnny Reb? 'cause I've heard hunting men Is just one hard **** then again and again It is joy past the point of all drugs and all zen Let the next re-enactment We enact again Have the slightest addition Of two powdered men I've come to consider you More than a friend So honestly Johnny Between us too men Let the end of our war Be decided again

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Aug 10, 2012

Aug 10, 2012 at 3:43 AM UTC

jessica-merkling-dittmar

Civil War

Are you scared Johnny Reb? Yeah I guess I am too With each re-enactment The grey and the blues Get under my skin 'til it's just me and you In our animal colors All black and bad news Are you scared Johnny Reb? 'cause I've heard hunting men Is just one hard **** then again and again It is joy past the point of all drugs and all zen Let the next re-enactment We enact again Have the slightest addition Of two powdered men I've come to consider you More than a friend So honestly Johnny Between us too men Let the end of our war Be decided again

22

This city breathes the city stirs and turns this city is a sleeping tiger a moving, boulevard-striped back skyscrapers like strands of fur on end it raises its young here it is a mother tigress as its cubs play and sleep on her warm body their paws pound the pavement they feel it move her beating heart resonates in every beam and sewer grate her roar is in the screeching subways the bustling voices and blaring horns of the streets the calls of the preachers the drums on the sidewalks every cash register in every deli the sobs the gasps the spoken word of her clan she moves in strange ways she is a firm parent and rears her children strong and when they come, she will break them remake them rebuild them as stronger beings she watches her offspring as their hearts grow and break and grow and she caresses and toughens the tigress is strange her young are countless and strangers bound only by a love, however deep, however dim, for their cubhood home.

0

Oct 7, 2013

Oct 7, 2013 at 10:32 PM UTC

emmi

Cubs and Mother

This city breathes the city stirs and turns this city is a sleeping tiger a moving, boulevard-striped back skyscrapers like strands of fur on end it raises its young here it is a mother tigress as its cubs play and sleep on her warm body their paws pound the pavement they feel it move her beating heart resonates in every beam and sewer grate her roar is in the screeching subways the bustling voices and blaring horns of the streets the calls of the preachers the drums on the sidewalks every cash register in every deli the sobs the gasps the spoken word of her clan she moves in strange ways she is a firm parent and rears her children strong and when they come, she will break them remake them rebuild them as stronger beings she watches her offspring as their hearts grow and break and grow and she caresses and toughens the tigress is strange her young are countless and strangers bound only by a love, however deep, however dim, for their cubhood home.

40

The howling storm caused the man to lay on the wind Holding down his hat lest it twirl away . His duster stuck to him like skin. A starless ink slack dark sky. No stars shone. The headstone glistened Like sun bleached bones. Electric clash . shimmering wet. An image fading from sight. Zig zag lighted limbs crackle in the distance. The hills they roll and clap thunder. rain slick, black stallion slowly crests the hill yonder. Slowly he rides a jangling gallop. Head bent for leather against the lashing weather. He looms larger by the second. The howling wind curses him,buffets him about. He looms larger still in the pelting rain. comes a horseman slowly jingle jangling again. He reigns in slowly.Rises up in the stirrups. White lightening glows and wickers.A booming wave knocks me to ground. Standing above me the instant is mystic as no living thing could ever move this quick. "Point me to the headstone of the Unknown soldier" comes through the air. I look for his face under rain sodden stetson.No eyes no mouth there is nothing there. Weakly I lift and point to a stone that leans to perdition.The soldier Unknown. His duster floats softly as he glides along. No stride nor motion a spirit in flight. He settles not three feet in front of the stone. I knew with a certainty. The soldier was home. Thunder pushed the night aside. Lightening blinded my eyes. Play Dixie. Blow taps. Blow Revalie. Blow the recall. Johnny Reb had come home. From where he did fall.

0

Oct 21, 2013

Oct 21, 2013 at 10:32 PM UTC

geno-cattouse-1

A Long Journey home

The howling storm caused the man to lay on the wind Holding down his hat lest it twirl away . His duster stuck to him like skin. A starless ink slack dark sky. No stars shone. The headstone glistened Like sun bleached bones. Electric clash . shimmering wet. An image fading from sight. Zig zag lighted limbs crackle in the distance. The hills they roll and clap thunder. rain slick, black stallion slowly crests the hill yonder. Slowly he rides a jangling gallop. Head bent for leather against the lashing weather. He looms larger by the second. The howling wind curses him,buffets him about. He looms larger still in the pelting rain. comes a horseman slowly jingle jangling again. He reigns in slowly.Rises up in the stirrups. White lightening glows and wickers.A booming wave knocks me to ground. Standing above me the instant is mystic as no living thing could ever move this quick. "Point me to the headstone of the Unknown soldier" comes through the air. I look for his face under rain sodden stetson.No eyes no mouth there is nothing there. Weakly I lift and point to a stone that leans to perdition.The soldier Unknown. His duster floats softly as he glides along. No stride nor motion a spirit in flight. He settles not three feet in front of the stone. I knew with a certainty. The soldier was home. Thunder pushed the night aside. Lightening blinded my eyes. Play Dixie. Blow taps. Blow Revalie. Blow the recall. Johnny Reb had come home. From where he did fall.

25

WE ÐIEŦħ DAILҰ; T㊉ BE REB㊉RN. ©BRANÐ㊉N NAGLEҰ ©L㊉NES㊉ME P㊉EŦS P㊉EŦRҰ

0

Oct 24, 2015

Oct 24, 2015 at 4:17 PM UTC

brandon-nagley

REBIRŦħEÐ

WE ÐIEŦħ DAILҰ; T㊉ BE REB㊉RN. ©BRANÐ㊉N NAGLEҰ ©L㊉NES㊉ME P㊉EŦS P㊉EŦRҰ

5

IMPERFECT UNION Oh whoa is US What can we do Our perfect union’s So long overdue We The People Have been here before Back 15 years And 20 score more We fought our neighbors Our brothers too Oh whoa was US And what we did do Those battle drums They beat again Not Reb’s, not Yank’s Now, Rep’s and Dem’s Oh whoa is US What can we do Our perfect union’s About to undo

0

Oct 18, 2018

Oct 18, 2018 at 3:58 PM UTC

BillyMac56

Imperfect Union

IMPERFECT UNION Oh whoa is US What can we do Our perfect union’s So long overdue We The People Have been here before Back 15 years And 20 score more We fought our neighbors Our brothers too Oh whoa was US And what we did do Those battle drums They beat again Not Reb’s, not Yank’s Now, Rep’s and Dem’s Oh whoa is US What can we do Our perfect union’s About to undo

21

Joey and the reb Fleet foot and the sheik Underground but not too deep In the gun sights of the policemen -- A long time a bein' dead Takes a toll Eventually -- Fools at play Yet we? In a second we be gone Into the last escape

0

Feb 27, 2013

Feb 27, 2013 at 2:56 PM UTC

jeffrey-robin

What the game comes down?

Joey and the reb Fleet foot and the sheik Underground but not too deep In the gun sights of the policemen -- A long time a bein' dead Takes a toll Eventually -- Fools at play Yet we? In a second we be gone Into the last escape

13

They think it's a secret we don't get but we knew long ago. TV's were the morphine on which we could all dream but that dream went West, second best, the World wide web and how Johnny Reb would have loved it. Now I'm being fed largactil in the hope that I keep still they **** me and poke. I need a cigarette, they say smoking will **** me which has nothing to do with the revenue they earn from me. I love telling them to shove it where the sun does not shine. If the meek truly inherit the earth then I look forward to what is to be mine.

0

Jan 22, 2017

Jan 22, 2017 at 3:39 PM UTC

john-edward-smallshaw

Registered

They think it's a secret we don't get but we knew long ago. TV's were the morphine on which we could all dream but that dream went West, second best, the World wide web and how Johnny Reb would have loved it. Now I'm being fed largactil in the hope that I keep still they **** me and poke. I need a cigarette, they say smoking will **** me which has nothing to do with the revenue they earn from me. I love telling them to shove it where the sun does not shine. If the meek truly inherit the earth then I look forward to what is to be mine.

23