Young America Sings Democracy’s Song

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
inspired by; Walt Whitman’s
I Hear America Singing

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Omayra’s Smile

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.

Wicked Seeds Sown

 

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

Nothing Remains

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.

Feeling Memorial Day 2017

© 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.

A Nation Divided Our Children Cry

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

Ode to Poe

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

Martin Luther King of Men

Martin Luther King, Jr.
King of Men

 

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

 

The Oath

The Oath

 

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

“Burst of Joy”

Colonel John F. O’Grady POW/MIA  Photo by Salva Veder.

( Storyline; first person) 

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

Way Of The Warrior

Photo by Matthew Woltunski

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

What Memorial Day Means To Me

What Memorial Day Means To Me

What Memorial Day Means To Me

by Hugh A Tague

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.

Their Cries of Protest

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.

Father Mandela

Father Mandela
by Hugh A Tague

Shackled and lead to a cell,
freedom revoked by hatred
and fear.

Nearly three decades of complete darkness,
then into the peoples light
he appeared.

His dream of equality unchanged,
freedom’s resolve
unbroken.

Retribution for sins against him
were forever
unspoken.

Confessor of the dark and the light,
our voice of freedom,
endowing our country with sight.

He no longer walks by our side.
Never shall we forget
this man’s stride.

Father to his countryman,
teaching his children
patience and peace.

His wisdom and sacrifice
forever lives in the hearts
of all who are free.

What to Say

What to Say

by Hugh A Tague

What to say
about one whose words
have touched so many,
words not just read
and spoke out loud,
but are felt
by all they fall upon.
Words that inspired so many
to read, to write
and to see.

What to say
about one who has
not just bared witness,
but engaged in life
with a limitless vigor
few will ever know,
but for a read of our Lady Maya.

What to say
about one’s whose sight
has touched minds of
school-aged children,
as well as the minds of
men and women;
who shoulder
the weight of the world.

Four score and six years;
five of those fell silent,
for none knew better
the power of words
than she.

Perhaps all the words
that could be spoke,
or wrote,
about this great poetess
have been just that.
For even a man of words
such as myself,
I can think of but two….
Thank You.