If

So, it has been a while since I last posted.  Summer-life with two jobs has a way of eating up your time.  Poetry is one of my greatest passions, but it even slips to my back-burner at times.
Here is a poem I find to be very inspiring, so much so that I wrote one myself with it as a guide.  Perhaps someday I'll share "There Is A Man Who Lived" (the piece I wrote,) with you, but for now enjoy the work of the great Rudyard Kipling; and then let me know what you think of it, and how it inspires you.

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools;
 
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";
 
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

Rudyard Kipling

Surprise, surprise!

I've been posting now for just less than two months.  To all my readers out there, what do you think so far?  What would you like to see posted here?  What do you want more or less of?
I came across this poem today.  It brought a bit of a smile to my face; I have to ask myself, will that be the reaction I get when my time comes?
 
I dreamed death came to me last night
and Heaven's gate swung wide,
with kindly grace an angel came
and ushered me inside!
And there...to my astonishment
stood folks I'd known on earth,
Some I judged and called "unfit"
and some of little worth;
Indignant words rose to my lips
But never were set free;
For every face showed stunned surprise...
Not one expected me!

Author Unknown

The New Colossus

Note: The Colossus was a bronze statue in ancient Greece.  It was built by a harbor shortly after 300 B.C, and stood over 100 feet tall.

Written as part of a fund raising for the Statue of Liberty's pedestal, this poem is now engraved on that pedestal.  It welcomes all who pass it with these words:

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

 

Emma Lazarus

Fire in the Sky

Here is a poem I wrote several years ago, while watching a fireworks display.  As an earlier piece of mine, it is a bit simple, but I hope you like it regardless. 
I guess what makes watching fireworks patriotic is just the fact that, noisy as it is, it gives us time to think and focus on our country, and recall all those who gave their lives so that we might live the life that we choose.
So this poem is dedicated to freedom, and all who fight in any way to preserve it.  God bless the USA!

We watch and wait
in anticipation:
it's the Fourth of July,
the birthday of our nation!

Then comes a flash,
and then a blast:
the hour-long wait
is over at last!

The fireworks carve
a path in the sky,
deafening the ear
and pleasing the eye.

Stars of light,
and circles too;
red and white
and green and blue.

Silhouetted by flame,
our banner doth fly!
The air is aglow
with fire in the sky!

David Jamison


P.S.  I have included below a link to a site with the Declaration of Independence on it.  I always include the reading of it as part of my celebration of this day.  Who knows, you might find it inspiring too.

http://www.archives.gov/exhibits/charters/declaration_transcript.html

Breathes There the Man

I took the Sabbath off yesterday, and so today I will be posting two poems.  I'll start off with one by a great poet of the past, and then later today I'll post one of my own.
What are your feelings when you read this well known poem?  To me this piece by Sir Walter Scott says that, if I can't say that I loved and stood up my country and all it stands for, anything else I achieve will matter very little in the grand scheme of things.
Whatever your nationality or political affiliation, I encourage you to use this day as one to ponder what makes you country special, and to thank God above for giving you a nation to call home.
God bless us, everyone!

Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land?
Whose heart hath ne’er within him burn’d,
As home his footsteps he hath turn’d,
From wandering on a foreign strand?
 
If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no Minstrel raptures swell.
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;

Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonor’d, and unsung.

Sir Walter Scott

Battle-Hymn of the Republic

Out of the American Civil War, the darkest hour in our history, there were those who refused to let the horrors of total war blacken their souls.  Julia Howe Ward, an American activist and poet, was one of these unconquerable souls. 
As terrible fighting was taking place across the nation to decide the rights of all men to be free, she wrote these words.  They are a tribute to the God of freedom, and to all who have given their lives for that cause, as well as a reminder of all that must yet be done to preserve our nation and our freedom.
Even after almost 150 years, this hymn is still one of the greatest pieces of patriotic poetry of all time, and it still touches the hearts of those willing to listen to its message.
There were originally six stanzas; I have omitted here the third and sixth; otherwise it is placed here as she wrote it.

Mine eyes have seen the glory
Of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage
Where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning
Of His terrible swift sword;
His truth is marching on.

I have seen Him in the watchfires
Of a hundred circling camps
They have builded Him an altar
In the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence
By the dim and flaring lamps;
His day is marching on.

He has sounded forth the trumpet
That shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men
Before His judgement seat;
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him;
Be jubilant, my feet;
Our God is marching on.

In the beauty of the lilies
Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom
That transfigures you and me;
As He died to make men holy,
Let us die to make men free;
While God is marching on.

Julia Howe Ward

Song of the American Eagle

In honor of America's Independence Day, I will be trying to post a patriotic poem every day for the next week or so. 
Here is a very touching piece about the eagle, our country's symbol of nobility and freedom.  I and my fellow Americans have been very blessed by God.  He has given us freedom, prosperity above many other nations, and a grand heritage, to name just a few. 
Let us always remember what we have been given, and our duty to remain "one nation under God," in Whom we trust.

I build my nest on the mountain’s crest,
Where the wild winds rock my eaglets to rest,
Where the lightnings flash, and the thunders crash,
And the roaring torrents foam and dash;
For my spirit free henceforth shall be
A type of the sons of Liberty.

Aloft I fly from my aerie high,
Through the vaulted dome of the azure sky;
On a sunbeam bright take my airy flight,
And float in a flood of liquid light;
For I love to play in the noontide ray,
And bask in a blaze from the throne of day.

Away I spring with a tireless wing,
On a feathery cloud I poise and swing;
I dart down the steep where the lightnings leap,
And the clear blue canopy swiftly sweep;
For, dear to me is the revelry
Of a free and fearless Liberty.

I love the land where the mountains stand,
Like the watch-towers high of a Patriot band;
For I may not bide in my glory and pride,
Though the land be never so fair and wide,
Where Luxury reigns o’er voluptuous plains,
And fetters the free-born soul in chains.

Then give to me in my flights to see
The land of the pilgrims ever free!
And I never will rove from the haunts I love
But watch, from my sentinel-track above,
Your banner free, o’er land and sea,
And exult in your glorious Liberty.

O, guard ye well the land where I dwell,
Lest to future times the tale I tell,
When slow expires in smoldering fires
The goodly heritage of your sires,
How Freedom’s light rose clear and bright
O’er fair Columbia’s beacon-height,
Till ye quenched the flame in a starless night.

Then will I tear from your pennon fair
The stars ye have set in triumph there;
My olive-branch on the blast I’ll launch,
The fluttering stripes from the flagstaff wrench,
And away I’ll flee; for I scorn to see
A craven race in the land of the free!

Anonymous