Replies

They Died As Men

I just wrote this last night after I watched "A Day In June" and "Hills Are For Heroes" on video. I was so touched that I wrote down what I felt as I viewed these shows. This poem is what Jo D. would call a "brain dump" meaning it came straight from my head to the paper, with little revision or concentration. Give me some feedback if you have any comments.

It was in Normandy of 1944:
He was Courage and he was Hope on a distant shore.
Sent there by a country that he loved through all his tender years.
Just a young American choosing to rise above his fears.
As I watched him bleeding on that shore,
Without one thought of giving in,
My soul was filled with love once more
For those who lived as boys, but died as men.

In an unknown part of France of 1944:
He was weary and longing for an end to the war.
Reading letters sent by a mother with love beyond her tears.
Another frightened American choosing to defy his fears.
And as I watched him struggle up that hill,
Without one thought of turning back,
My heart began to pound, my thoughts stood still!
Though the images were old, faded white and black,
Their beautiful resolve and unflinching will
Shall always fill my head.
Their agonizing screams drown out all other noise
As I lay awake at night in my bed.
Whenever I am alone my thoughts drift again
To those who lived as boys
But died as men.

Rose (Hazelnut)

"They Died As Men"

That's one hell of a poem my friend, it has depth.

Here's another viewpoint

Some Nights Are Harder

Remembering is hard sometimes,
echoes, echoes, paths we have trod.
Old dreams and nightmares chime,
recalling pathos on the path to God.

Old names and faces etched into time’s flow,
come back with sadness, their passing reminds.
There is a named wall deep inside you know,
I visit it sometime, there in all Vet’s minds.

Old tears, old pains, and old aches of the soul,
age us and gage us to a fine point indeed.
Quiet old men with memories still too whole,
recalling the heartbreaks, the last bitter seed.

Part of the cost we carry inside, a hard price to bear,
yet we honor those who we had to lose there.
We remember them often, and it lays our souls bare,
old soldiers, and sailors, and airmen still care.

That’s why we honor the one’s who stand there now,
we know the weight that they carry, as we did before.
They are our heroes and we share their Tao,
supporting them where others treated us like whores.

Honor the ones who stand there for you,
they stand tall and unbowed to be there at all.
Let none be forgotten and all that they do,
give them their dues for answering that call.

"They Died As Men"

Hell of a pome my friend, it has depth.

Here is another viewpoint.

Some Nights Are Harder

Remembering is hard sometimes,
echoes, echoes, paths we have trod.
Old dreams and nightmares chime,
recalling pathos on the path to God.

Old names and faces etched into time’s flow,
come back with sadness, their passing reminds.
There is a named wall deep inside you know,
I visit it sometime, there in all Vet’s minds.

Old tears, old pains, and old aches of the soul,
age us and gage us to a fine point indeed.
Quiet old men with memories still too whole,
recalling the heartbreaks, the last bitter seed.

Part of the cost we carry inside, a hard price to bear,
yet we honor those who we had to lose there.
We remember them often, and it lays our souls bare,
old soldiers, and sailors, and airmen still care.

That’s why we honor the one’s who stand there now,
we know the weight that they carry, as we did before.
They are our heroes and we share their Tao,
supporting them where others treated us like whores.

Honor the ones who stand there for you,
they stand tall and unbowed to be there at all.
Let none be forgotten and all that they do,
give them their dues for answering that call.