Words are the chosen tools of Mankind.
Within his gaslights amber glow
White privilege is on parade
His minions free to frolic and prey
In their fairyland of wealth and fame.
All kowtow before the faux King
From sinful sequestration rise
The army of the forgotten man
With fascist fire in their eyes.
False prophets sow ignorance and hate
Paradox Patriots reap treason’s pay.
America take heed make no mistake.
They are all indeed,Enemies of the State.
~ Hugh A Tague
From the ash of disaster rise the strong
Sown resolve forged in Colonial foundries
A new warrior floods the commonwealth
Young America sings Democracy’s song.
Beneath the blades of grass lies unrest
Wolves in shepherd’s robes forsake safety
Innocents taken paid the Devil In full
Classroom killing fields filthy with death.
A child soldier wields the Sword of Light
Striking the glutinous beast bowel deep
The creature’s squeal deafens the swamp
Traitors and thieves beg for their lives.
From the ash of disaster rise the strong.
Young America sings Democracy’s song.
by, Hugh A Tague
Pressure below the ground began to build
Smoke and ash billowed into the night’s sky
The earth’s crust shook and became fire tilled
Over the next few days many will die.
In this place where happy children once played
Omayra is locked in sunken debris
Her precious new life is no longer safe
Scared and lonely she struggles just to breathe.
Hearing her cries many gathered around
She faced death with the smile she put on
But no one could pull the girl from the ground
After three days Omayra’s life was gone.
The earth was angry and took her away.
Omayra’s sweet smile lives on today.
By, Hugh A Tague
True love has no limits, no earthly bounds
Feelings so pure and good, no man can judge
No court or church can define it out loud
None has the right for that union begrudge.
Not gender nor race does this great love know
Enlightened grace sent from a far away star
Their souls come together, as passions grow
Ignorance and hate can’t change who they are.
Nothing or no one can keep them apart
Sweet adoration a gift to them both
There’s no bad love, when it comes from the heart
The universe their church, love is their oath.
A love so pure it can not be undone.
Two lover’s hearts begin to beat as one.
By, Hugh A Tague III
The mark above my brow the symbol of life
a smudge of admiration.
A reminder of sacrifice freely given a celebrated life
of love and understanding.
Forty days and nights the serpent torments tempting resolve defeated
he returns alone.
Winter’s cold wind the ashes chase away the triumphant light returns
palms are laid.
From the dust life begins to burst then as ashes
we return to the earth.
A smudge of admiration the symbol of life
the mark above my brow.
By Hugh A Tague
From crimson encrusted sand, fortifications grow skyward
refugees entrenched upon not one, but both sides
a siren’s wail warns of imminent incoming fire
here collateral damage is the benchmark
not a misguided consequence of war.
Amidst the smell of gunpowder and burning fuel
for just one moment, a superpower shines bright
his sidelocks breach the wall, brushing her cheek
her lips touch his and take them both to another place
a place where their children can play in peace.
For one fleeting moment in time
flags colors blend, love and indifference stand
two hearts divided by mortar and stone become one
true love’s kiss conquered all things wrong
for one fleeting moment in time.
Hugh A Tague 7/31/14
(Free Rhyme Quatrain)
by, Hugh A Tague
Crops and flowers no longer flourish here
windows boarded up no one to look out
sounds of children playing heard never more
no neighbors to stop and knock at the door.
Once rich and fertile land now lies barren
no life dwells as far as the eye can see
no animals nor ox to pull a plow
four walls and a roof are all that’s left now.
Standing alone surrounded by nothing
for all that once was is now abandoned
sky dark as night though it’s only midday
no color to be seen just shades of gray.
Wind blows dust across the desolate fields
ominous grey clouds take over the sky
life giving rains are too little too late
forsaken forever is this land’s fate.
For all that once was is now abandoned
sounds of children playing heard never more
windows boarded up no one to look out
four walls and a roof are all that’s left now
Copyright © 03/11/13 Hugh Tague
Art work by Marc Arroyo
A worm blindly spins the thread;
A fragile, meaningless thread.
Wove in unity with others,
Its true wealth not inherent.
A mast tethered swatch of silk
Dancing upon the gentle breeze.
Colored with bravery and sacrifice,
It becomes the standard of many.
Waiving an overture to the day
Exalted, the ensign flies on high.
Mankind’s clannish nature insure
Its dominion forever stands abstract.
For each combat-hardened gonfalon
Victorious upon the field of battle;
Blended with blood, another’s colors
Envelope the soil where it succumbs.
An oriflamme that burns for some
Deny the inclusion of a whole.
O’ to have a banner unite a species,
I pledge My allegiance to Humanity.
~Hugh A Tague
Celebrating the sublime, mindless of malice
murder becomes life’s darkest perversion
assassin’s bullets forge soldiers of the slain
martyred, their phoenix ignites freedom’s flame.
Powerless to bequeath true wealth lost
an ancient evil corrupts the human light
souls chosen to pay the Reaper’s steep toll
unconsciously pledge an immortal oath.
Those responsible to guide the many
deceiving their charge for greed and glory
warriors and weapons eternally morph
twisting flesh and metal to suit their war.
These wicked seeds sown have been sown anew
until Man salts the land of hate it grows
their faces and battlefields endlessly evolve
rain upon crimson-waxed earth is nature’s resolve.
Twisting flesh and metal to suit the war
unconsciously pledge an immortal oath
assassin’s bullets forge soldiers of the slain
martyred, their phoenix ignites freedom’s flame.
~ Hugh A Tague
by, Hugh A Tague
Fascist fireworks observed worldwide
Ignorance from within feeds the bane
Arrogance looking on shamefully retain
Raising welts upon Democracy’s hide.
Those united, nationalist seek to divide
Russian plundered money from Ukraine
Alternative facts and fear-fund campaigns
Diversity’s gifts to all they would deny.
Populist deceit persists without refrain.
With Integrity’s death, Nothing Remains.
© 2017 Hugh A Tague
Seems fitting, here upon my life’s stage
gray skies keeps the sunshine at bay
on this particularly dark Memorial Day.
I wonder, are their souls abreast
can they see Democracy’s latest test
beneath the blanket of honor from which they rest.
Those who stand silent before Treason’s insight
disrespecting their sacrifice in spite
do not represent America’s plight.
Tears from heaven fall as drops of rain
their cry for justice I fear may wane
should integrity and honor die in vain.
by Hugh A Tague
In a small Florida town a shot rang out
A hooded young boy just on his way home
Attacked by a man who brandished a gun
This battle this night he could not have won.
A perforated young heart beats no more
His blood flowed into the now hallowed ground
Yelling and screaming he put up a fight
He took his last breath that dark rainy night.
Senselessly and needlessly a life lost
So many questions the answers unclear
Leaving most of us just wondering why
A nation divided our children cry.
No one around to help him stand his ground
Who speaks for him now can his voice be heard
His bright young light was turned off much too soon
Now that light twinkles with the stars and moon.
A hooded young boy just on his way home
His blood flowed into the now hallowed ground
Attacked by a man who brandished a gun
This battle this night he could not have won.
Hugh Tague 7/17/13
Gaslights gloaming deep amber rhetoric
A train-wreck in reverse derailed in time
Casting alternate darkness over hope
Death and delusion with every pen’s stroke.
The desert’s sand thick with my brother’s blood
Boots on the ground children in harm’s way
Our body and mind no longer our own
Jackals from afar secured his gold throne.
Constitution of the people not of one president.
RESIST all that’s not true there is no alternate.
 |
| (Photo by Matthew Woltunski) |
Hear the cock’s golden horn call from afar
as a solar torch touches the edge of the world
Igniting the night’s sky, turning dark clouds to white.
Your dawn’s horizon afire with another’s sunset
a pathway paved in ashes of fallen rainbows
a bridge seared onto the surface of the sea.
Follow me to where days have no end
and the night needs not hide in darkness
where the worrier, has no worry
and the warrior, no war.
Walk With Me…
Walk With Me.
by Hugh A Tague
“The New World” more an idea than a place
forged from a sweltering ancient fire
the conception of inclusion
is old as the human race.
Not unlike a brazen giant of freak fame,
With transplant faux hair and a bad spray-tan;
Here at his brain-washed, iron-clad gates shall stand
A mighty moron with a torch, whose flame
Is the persona of gaslighting, and his name
Betrayer of Exiles. From his beacon-hand
Glows world-wide “No-Trespass” sign; his eyes scan
The bridgeless harbor that his sinful cities frame.
“Return to your ancient lands, you matter not!” cries he
With puckered lips. “I don’t want your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses scheming to steal from me
Such wretched refuse shan’t set foot upon my shore.
Send these, the homeless, back across the sea,
The light’s off and I locked the door!”
by Hugh A Tague
To Poe,
A dear friend took me on a walk one day
he told me about The City in the Sea
he spoke of a beautiful girl he once loved
A Valentine from his past Ms. Annabel Lee Continue reading “Ode to Poe”
Martin Luther King of Men
by Hugh A Tague
Changing our world and all who live there
marching against ignorance and hate
his only weapons were peace and prayer
that was what made this King great.
Equality for everyone was his only plan
a kind soul who dared to dream for us all
given by God, taken away by man
on that dark April day when we saw him fall.
Every human need embrace his just plight
the lessons he taught, we must forever sing
men, women and children, black or white
a nation and the world mourn the brave King
Our father of hope, with the angels he flies.
Now it’s up to us to keep his dream alive.
© Hugh A Tague
original 1-6-13 edited 1-17-16
Blindsight
(Shakespearean Sonnet)
by Hugh A Tague
Thor forewarned me of the impending storm
his hammer thundered in the distant sky
from a gentle breeze the strong wind is born
whipping up the sea as it blows on by
spray from the gale-charged whitecaps sting my face
great swells pound the pier beneath my feet
mimicking foot steps, the waves keep pace
timbers trembling as they run past me
specters of warriors invade the shore
the angry surf crashes upon the beach
sounds of mortal combat with shield and sword
it seems their victory is now within reach.
The sighted can see, all that can be seen.
In blindsight I feel, what all things can be.
The Oath
They all took the oath
some were barley eighteen
protecting our nations shores
and all the people in between.
Defending an idea
our forefathers did foresee
the simple notion that
mankind is meant to be free.
The cost of freedom high
the ultimate price many paid
they all took the oath
their sacrifice, we honor today.
For those who have served
past, present and yet to come
because they all take the oath
to oppression, we will not succumb.
~by Hugh A Tague
Autumn’s Sun
by Hugh A Tague
Autumn’s sun shines bright by day
warming the ground where fallen leaves lay.
As if Mother Nature had to sneeze
a strong wind blew the color from the trees.
Nighttime arrived with a clear star filled sky
sound asleep under a warm blanket we lie.
Jack Frost’s breath fell gently upon the ground
kissing the once green fields turning them brown.
Journey For Life
by Hugh A Tague
Bursting forth from an earthbound pod
finding freedom in the late Autumn wind
adrift high above the mountain’s side
through treetops on currents of air it rides.
The winds deflected by the canopy of limbs
sending the little seed twisting and turning
the fluffy white flyer’s adventure now unsure
as it falls gently toward the forest floor.
Star Gazing
by Hugh A Tague
As I gaze throughout
the clear night sky
I dream of far away worlds
that are but a twinkle in my eye.
Could there be another out there
just like me?
Staring back at earth
through the planetary sea?
Is there another world
exactly like ours?
Do they dream of me
when they look upon the stars?
I may never know for sure
as we may not meet
Is there someone else out there?
Are they looking back at me?
Forever Haunted
by, Hugh A Tague
The blood red harvest moon shone through
the sparse Autumn treetops, chasing away
a fast moving thunderstorm. The cold
October wind blew down the quiet lane
making leaves dance, like spirits on the run.
A porch light set a warm glow on a jug of cider
placed next to a plate of candied apples.
A scarecrow stuffed with hay, stood sentry on the stoop
as a jack-o-lantern flickered the darkness
away from the walk.
Backlit by the streetlight, little witches, ghosts and goblins
cast elongated shadows. The sound of children laughing
echoed on the breeze, as they meandered up the street.
A ferocious storm shook the town many years ago.
Under the cover of darkness, a fugitive
slipped away from his confines.
Nothing that is good will come this night.
His vision clouded by evil, the escapee sped down the hill
like a runaway train, obliterating three very young trick-or-treaters, then crashing into the light pole, his life too ended just as swiftly as his victim’s.
The ground began to rumble as a powerful wind roared past,
and a wicked silence fell upon the lane. The moon’s light
washed the darkness away from the house
with the festive porch, revealing that it has actually
been long abandoned. The children had lived in that house.
Their parents unable to survive just feet away
from the place they perished, simply left,
never to return again.
All for a freedom that lasted but a splinter of time.
The killer’s soul now condemned to exist only in shadows,
tortured and twisted by the guilt of my sins,
yes my sins, it was me,
it was I who extinguished their lights
it was I, that ended their lives.
Every year since, on all hallows eve
I must look upon what I have done. I must relive it
over and over again. Because I have deprived
so many of so much, my spirit remains
infinitely restless.
My regret and sentence eternal,
by the shadows of that dark and evil Halloween night
I shall continue to be…
Forever Haunted.
Fall of The Sumac Phoenix
by Hugh A Tague
Helios’ sun no longer reigns supreme
as Autumn’s sky begins to cool and gray
Hephaestus loads his brush in nature’s forge
painting each of the bird’s feathers with fire
wings stretched, the sumac looks skyward
milkweed burst in puffs of white smoke
and the phoenix is consumed by winter
until Boreas’ takes his last frosty breath
with Spring’s gentle touch, comes resurrection.
by Hugh A Tague
I see Autumn’s brilliant colors are all but gone,
Summer’s sweet song has long been sung.
Short days followed by endless cold nights,
brown forest and fields are now Winter’s delight.
I see a bear walking about curious and free,
no more long Summer’s naps, in the shade of a tree.
She now searches for a safe and suitable den,
so her and her cubs, can sleep until Winter’s end.
I see squirrels abandon their tree-top penthouse suites,
storing nuts underground, or in the hollow of a tree.
Needing food aplenty, they will not sleep Winter away,
even on the snowiest days, the squirrels frolic and play.
by Hugh A Tague
Their form beckons to a past time and place
In the bright light time stops for not a soul
sunshine transformed into yesterday’s sight
memories and dreams cast in black and white.
Its all but lost now this style and grace
a seen played out witnessed to not one eye
her pleated dress his top hat so passé
silhouettes dance in shades of black and gray.
Shadows know not time nor respect of bounds
sashaying upon the wall with great mirth
her dress fluttered as if caught by the breeze
he took her hand her heart she gave to thee.
love faded into the storm’s dark abyss
as clouds slipped in front of the sun’s spot light
for no longer can they frolic and play
unwilling to see they just walk away.
Their form beckons to a past time and place
its all but lost now this style and grace
sunshine transformed into yesterday’s sight
memories and dreams cast in black and white.
they walk away
love and hope behind them
just turn around
(Free Rhyme Quatrain)
closed with a Codas in; (English Senyu 4-6-4)
The Oldest Battle
It is the oldest battle ever waged
that of good and evil no soul is safe
light and darkness they are so described
In side of all of us they both reside.
No warriors weapons or battlefield
to either side a person’s soul may yield
the battle nor war can be lost or won
for life’s decisions can not be undone.
Without light in darkness we can not see
without darkness the light we do not need
a balance of each all of us must keep
then and only then can a soul be free.
by Hugh A Tague
Carried on the wings of my Thunderchief
High above the Earth’s surface
Below my feet a land divided
On the Asian Island chain
Communism creeps
The bombs on my belly
Loaded with freedom from afar
Fire of oppression finds me
Returned to the Earth alive
Received into the hands of the Devil
Late Summer Storm
The long warm Summer’s day
now begins to cool and fade
nighttime creeps into the day’s light
Winter’s reign of darkness now in sight.
Trees are the first as if prearranged
recognizing Mother Nature’s subtle change
denying life giving essence to branches and limbs
storing all its nourishment deep down within
soon they will enjoy a long winter’s sleep
a lasting silence but for an occasional crack or creek.
“The Feathery First Mate”
(QUATRAIN) In first person
by Hugh A Tague
Gliding high on a warm ocean breeze.
Over white sands beaches and bright blue seas.
Or perched way up high in a coconut tree.
That’s just a few places that I like to be.
From my crown to my tail and on both my wings
Color abounds, red, blue, yellow, and green.
when pirates came to visit me in my tree,
The captain of the ship took a fancy to me.
Winter
The silent, and unforgiving boreal descends
Upon tawny fields and umber forests.
Snowflakes glisten with hues of periwinkle.
Endless night’s moon sires ice crystal’s twinkle.
Masterpiece: Day’s End
by Hugh A Tague
A magenta glow stained horizon
announced the end of a beautiful day
evenings cool air fell upon the shore
as summer’s sun dove deep into the bay.
The Magic of Your Kiss
The magic of your kiss
as your lips met mine
on that warm summer night
that seemed to reset time.
I Wonder
by Hugh A Tague
Pillowing clouds fill the night sky
back lit by the glow of the harvest moon
their edges bright as if on fire.
Like scales on a celestial serpent
the great sky dragon slowly drifts away
disappearing into the darkness.
Five of Cups
By Hugh A Tague
Today’s potential consumed by the past
greener pastures through these eyes yet unseen
raw emotion cuts the land wide open
without resolve in place I am frozen.
Obsession’s tight grip keeps me in darkness
my kingdom awash in future’s bright light
water of forgiveness flows in-between
crossing it means then my mind can be free.
Hate His Touch
by Hugh A Tague
Would you deny his ardent touch, if you could?
Has he brought wisdom as well as great pain?
Vanity’s cry in your reflection withstood
Your ignorance washed away with his rain.
Foolishly thinking you can take back your night
Each minute belongs to him and him alone
With the same voice he turned your hair pure white
His hold is deep-reaching into the bone.
When you thought that he couldn’t be watching
Closing your eyes, you feel his grip release
Slipping into a place no clocks are ticking
His reign upon your life will never cease.
Hate him for keeping you within his shroud
The Reaper’s touch, you will not disallow.
Seven years of appeals my time is up
a heinous act someone just had to pay
I’m innocent I didn’t do the crime
I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
On this special Summer Solstice day
the great sun keeps the night at bay
but still the moon comes out to play
alongside the sun’s life giving rays.
Rejoice and bask in the extended heat
forever mother nighttime can not sleep
her promise to us all she must keep
into the daytime the night shall creep.
by Hugh A Tague
Dandelions here there and everywhere
tight little buds reach and stretch for the sky
a full bloom sits atop a long tall stem
tiny seeds blow away to are again.
You can find them growing in your green lawn
even on a barren planet like Mars
small fluffy seeds that are lighter than air
ensure dandelions are everywhere.
Summer’s sun’s rays bounce off the flower heads
like a field of gold at the rainbow’s end
adrift on a gentle warm summer breeze
flying away like a squadron of bees.
Sunlight nourishes the buttons of gold
they close up tight with the chill of the night
growing anywhere sturdy as can be
some say they aren’t flowers just worthless weeds.
Tight little buds reach and stretch for the sky
they close up tight with the chill of the night
small fluffy seeds that are lighter than air
ensure Dandelions Are Everywhere.
This poem was inspired by
(Robert Frost’s “A Soldier”)
Way Of The Warrior
By Hugh Tague
The warrior’s body thrown to the ground
his soul released from its earthly bounds.
Freed to a place not known by men
Humanity struggles to understand.
The effect of his actions on the planet
taunt the universe we take for granted.
The weapons used to fall the man
rip, tear and destroy the land.
Sight set on victory at any cost
the warrior once stood tall, now is lost.
http://trrpoetry.blogspot.com/2013/05/poem-way-of-warrior_26.html
By Hugh A Tague
Stones of white sprawl as far as eyes can see
fields of green survivors’ tears now nourish
the sun shone upon the flowers of May
decorating the hallowed place they lay.
The cold days of winter now left behind
spring ends so that summer may come to be
born through the compassion in Shiloh town
widows gray, for the blue laid flowers down.
Canon balls, bullets and bones of the dead
long buried beneath a blanket of earth
beckoning to a time brothers stood brave
some decked in blue yet their kin stood in gray.
From the ashes of conflict felt within
consecrated through the fire of war
a nation of people once divided
proudly under one flag stand united.
Stones of white sprawl as far as eyes can see
spring ends so that summer may come to be
the sun shone upon the flowers of May
decorating the hallowed place they lay
What Memorial Day Means To Me
To some it’s just an extra long weekend
for others it starts the summer season.
I know what the holiday means to me
honoring those that died, so I may be free.
Some will take advantage of a great sale
others may just wonder why there’s no mail.
I see fields of white markers all in a row
as Arlington’s numbers continue to grow.
Many people will barbeque all day
spending time with family down by the lake.
most of us will honor those that fell
a twenty one gun salute says farewell.
What Memorial day means to me
remembering those already set free.
By Hugh A Tague
May 4, 1970
Sixty Seven rounds of lead
perforate Blanket Hill.
Nine students wounded;
Allison, Sandra,
William and Jeffrey, are dead.
Triggers were not pulled accidentally;
unnecessary, unwarranted and inexcusable
that’s what was said.
Their Cries of Protest
gave birth to a nation
making Boston Harbor run red.
And fighting against hate
on the hill with Martin Luther King
A nation’s ignorance was shed.
Their Cries of Protest
faced oppression
standing alongside
Mohandas Gandhi.
And for humans everywhere
they were with the Tank Man
in Tiananmen Square.
Their Cries of Protest
in Egypt were more than a million strong
making a dictator step down.
Again they were heard
in the smoke over Baltimore
as it burnt to the ground.
Their Cries of Protest
transcend time and race,
exclusively human
they echo in our soul.
Sixty-seven rounds of lead
perforate Blanket Hill
nine students wounded,
four were dead,
Their Cries of Protest,
we hear still.
Starry skies over the full moon’s bright light
daytime’s rays shine throughout the clear blue sky
from here I view the other side of me
on this rock I see all that I will be.
The vast universe always in balance
good and evil forever contrasting
a paradox reflection in real time
dark and light divided by a thin line.
Black or white no shade of gray in-between
my station of life my perch on this stone
looking back at me with a knowing glare
unable to fly I just stand and stare.
Feathers glisten with light from either world
a cool breeze blows gently across my crown
as I bow my head and look down my beak
I see the other me below my feet.
Starry skies over the full moon’s bright light
daytime’s rays shine throughout the clear blue sky
dark and light divided by a thin line
a paradox reflection in real time.
by, Hugh A Tague
If I am moved by the words from a pagan’s pen
does that make me a pagan then?
If a statue of Buddha adorns my shelf
will my soul be abandon all by itself?
If I read the Koran and feel its worth will
I still go to heaven when I leave this earth?
If the book of Torah is of interest to me
will Jesus forsake my spirit for all eternity?
What if my best friend prays to a Hindu God
when I die will my Lord still give me the nod?
If I love someone with an atheist’s soul
when I pass-on, will there be no where to go?
Who is right? Are any of them wrong?
How do I know where I belong?
Is there any way to know my soul’s fate?
I guess if there were;
It wouldn’t be called Faith.
Raging black water storms throughout the night
my body beaten yet my lungs remain full of air
the once angry sea now calm as if falling sleep
my grasp locked on a few boards and a bit of rope
alone and set adrift upon the vast blue ocean.
I wonder for just a moment what lies beneath me
what lurks under my only somewhat buoyant rest
did the storm stir up giant creatures of the deep
then with a smile I wonder was it all just a dream
tossed about like a tiny feather amidst a storm.
Lifting my head from the decking that preserves me
I see the horizon glow as the new day’s dawn cracked
thankful to see another knowing none are promised
closing my eyes my mind begins to drift into a dream
as Poseidon lifts me high atop a mighty sea swell.
I awaken with a hope I haven’t known for many days
only to have it smashed like a ship broken upon a reef
a fin sliced the water’s surface then another and a third
so this shall be my end tore to pieces no where to run
I am but a speck so far from anything I once knew.
One of the beast brushed against the side of my raft
quickly turning me around facing the other way
then I saw in the distance white water and palm trees
and friendly dolphins not sharks helped me to shore
to again feel the beach’s warm sand between my toes.
Hugh A Tague's Poetry & Prose 
