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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RESIST

 by Hugh A Tague

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.

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

Five of Cups

Photograph by Matthew Rambo

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.

Decoration Day

Decoration Day by Hugh A Tague

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

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.

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.

Freed By My Confession

Freed By My Confession
by Hugh A Tague

Each deep dark secret
haunts me, body and mind.
So complete is its grip
death is a welcome cure.

Dissident of humanity
riddled with man’s sin,
each binding me more
enhancing my madness.

My surroundings stark,
void of all expression.
My repressed thoughts
match my prison perfectly.

A façade of ignorance
runs rampant inside me.
Compressing the guilt
compounding my disability.

Rising to the surface
a bubbling brew of evil.
It’s pending release,
I can curtail no more.

Then it happens!
My most sacred digressions
articulated for others to digest,
degrading my personal mask.

As the pressure subsides,
pure space, or grace is created.
Light penetrates the bowels
of my once darkened soul.

From the light comes a warmth
filling a cold emptiness.
An inner peace I had not known
freedom I begrudged myself.

My bindings detached I am
carried on wings of forgiveness,
freed from my personal prison.
Freed By My Confession.