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When I introduced a black soldier, Lt. Flap, in 1971, the Stars and Stripes banned the strip. They were having racial problems and thought it would increase the tensions.

quote by Mort Walker
Added by Lucian Velea
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F.M. Doll

Take my doll put on her pretty clothes
Now don't you soil her dress
Brush her hair, paint her lips like a rose
Cover up your mess
Strip baby strip 'cause your daddy is watching
Strip baby strip just for me
Strip baby strip show your mother knows nothing
Strip baby strip Just for me, oh
Someone say doctor is my friend
Bruising is his cause
Behind closing doors
Strip baby strip for the soul of your brother
Strip baby strip for his wife
Strip baby strip 'cause you know she's not willing
Strip baby strip by the knife, Yeah
I lost my doll, put on my pretty clothes
I wont soil my dress
I brush my hair, paint my lips like a rose
I cover up my mess
Strip baby strip for the soul of your mother
Strip baby strip for her life
Strip baby strip 'cause you know you're worth nothing
Strip baby strip by the knife
Strip baby strip 'cause your daddy is watching
Strip baby strip just for me
Strip baby strip 'cause you know you're worth nothing
Strip baby strip for me, oh yeah

song performed by Queen Adreena
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Young British Soldier

When the 'arf-made recruity goes out to the East
'E acts like a babe an' 'e drinks like a beast,
An' 'e wonders because 'e is frequent deceased
Ere 'e's fit for to serve as a soldier.
Serve, serve, serve as a soldier,
Serve, serve, serve as a soldier,
Serve, serve, serve as a soldier,
So-oldier ~OF~ the Queen!

Now all you recruities what's drafted to-day,
You shut up your rag-box an' 'ark to my lay,
An' I'll sing you a soldier as far as I may:
A soldier what's fit for a soldier.
Fit, fit, fit for a soldier . . .

First mind you steer clear o' the grog-sellers' huts,
For they sell you Fixed Bay'nets that rots out your guts --
Ay, drink that 'ud eat the live steel from your butts --
An' it's bad for the young British soldier.
Bad, bad, bad for the soldier . . .

When the cholera comes -- as it will past a doubt --
Keep out of the wet and don't go on the shout,
For the sickness gets in as the liquor dies out,
An' it crumples the young British soldier.
Crum-, crum-, crumples the soldier . . .

But the worst o' your foes is the sun over'ead:
You ~must~ wear your 'elmet for all that is said:
If 'e finds you uncovered 'e'll knock you down dead,
An' you'll die like a fool of a soldier.
Fool, fool, fool of a soldier . . .

If you're cast for fatigue by a sergeant unkind,
Don't grouse like a woman nor crack on nor blind;
Be handy and civil, and then you will find
That it's beer for the young British soldier.
Beer, beer, beer for the soldier . . .

Now, if you must marry, take care she is old --
A troop-sergeant's widow's the nicest I'm told,
For beauty won't help if your rations is cold,
Nor love ain't enough for a soldier.
'Nough, 'nough, 'nough for a soldier . . .

If the wife should go wrong with a comrade, be loath
To shoot when you catch 'em -- you'll swing, on my oath! --
Make 'im take 'er and keep 'er: that's Hell for them both,
An' you're shut o' the curse of a soldier.
Curse, curse, curse of a soldier . . .

[...] Read more

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Mother’s Cry of Late

Where for art thou, soldier?
Out East? West? –
And when? –
What part your rabid history?
And why? –
What wrought your destiny? –
For whom
You’d wreak your enmity –
I crave your fate to pen!

What comprehension of the
Order? –
‘Listen up! you men!
Raze to ground the taken land!
See they die and e’er you’ll stand, for
Death is but a grain of sand –
The mighty triumph, medal grand!

Now go you well!
Amen! ’

What sight upon the bloody lie
Of war? – your doubtful fate.

‘Where for art thou, soldier? ’ –
Your mother’s cry of late.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Soldier's Ghost

I bled for you - would you for me?

I blessed a skin in blazing fuel
Then took a bullet in a duel of
‘He or I to Die.'

I often question ‘Why? '
Do you?

My country was my life to give -
Would you for country cease to live?
Sinking in a mire of death,
You have no choice -
So while you're still alive,
Rejoice!

I cried in failure - did you care?
And as I waned, were you aware of
What I did -?
Fighting for my country while you hid
Behind your comfort back at home?

Still relaxed?
My wife and child are fading at the tomb.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Problems

I wont take no lies, hanging out all night
The gig is up, enough, its enough
Youre wrong, dead wrong, wont take no more
Cause I see your game and dumb is not my name
Pack your bags, call you a cab
No more laughs
Cause Im not the one that youre gonna play on
Move along, sing a song
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
Got love for you, but I cant stand you
I page you, you wont call
Whats a 2-way for
Strike one, strike two, strike three, no more me
Cause I see the game and dumbs not my name
Pack your bags, call you a cab
No more laughs
Cause Im not the one that youre gonna play on
Move along, sing a song
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
We can do this any way that
You want cause I dont care
Its no problem and Im not the one
Pack your bags, call you a cab
No more laughs
Cause Im not the one that youre gonna play on
Move along, sing a song
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
[over chorus]
Its plain to see, you cant have me

[...] Read more

song performed by Nivea
Added by Lucian Velea
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Flap Your Wings

Drop down and get your eagle on, girl (flap your wings)
Drop down and get your eagle on, girl (flap your wings)
Hell naw, ain't leavin' me alone, girl (flap your wings)
Drop down and get your eagle on, girl (flap your wings)
Drop down and get your eagle on, girl (flap your wings)
Drop down and get your eagle on, girl (flap your wings)
Hell naw, ain't leavin' me alone, girl (flap your wings)
Drop down and get your eagle on, girl
She's got that sweat drippin' all over her body
[Girl] Do you like that sweat drippin' all over my body?
Yea, I like that
That sweat drippin' all over your body
[Girl] You like that sweat drippin' all over my body
[Nelly]
It's summertime, and I'm back again
And went to VA, oh, got my friends
Say what's up, Pharrell
[Pharrell] Look whats on the nail
Yeah but, let's show 'em what's above the nail, Bling
A hundred thou couldn't get you one of these (Not one of these)
I guarantee it ain't a flaw on one of these (One of these)
Two hundred thou, couldn't get you in the league
Get three hundred thou, you couldn't even buy the keys
I think you need to add 50 more G's
Now, shall I proceed?
[Ladies] Yes, indeed (Ho)
I need to see you take it down to the floor
Spread your wings, if you real, ma, fly real low
Pause for a second ma, grind real slow
And if you do it right
All day we'll go (Ho)
I talk a lil' Fred Seigal girl (Seigal, girl)
Bonnie and Judy Lee with your bag all beaded, girl
Apple bottom pair underneath it
You talkin' like you don't need it
I can tell you see it
I like that in you
I don't see nothin wrong
Drop down and get your eagle on (Whoa)
[Hook]
[Nelly] Now, what's next to trenscend up in this party
OPP time, now let's get naughty
You take babygirl, and I'ma take shorty
With the sweat drippin' all over her body
We gone move if you wanna (Oh)
Groove if you wanna (Oh)
Throw your nose up, ma, and get rude if you wanna
Ain't got nothin' to lose, nor to prove
Babygirl soaked like she just got out of the pool (Eh)
I know you're thirsty, ma

[...] Read more

song performed by Nelly
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Oh! He's Nothing But A Soldier

'Oh! he's nothing but a soldier,'
But he's coming here tonight,
For I saw him pass this morning,
With his uniform so bright.
He was coming in from picket,
Whilst he sung a sweet refrain,
And he kissed his hand at some one
Peeping through the window pane.
Ah! he rode no dashing charger
'With a black and flowing mane,'
But his bayonet glistened brightly,
As the sun lit up the plain.
No waving plume or feather
Flashed its crimson in the light -
He belonged to the Light Infantry,
And he came to war- to fight.
'Oh! he's nothing but a soldier,'
His trust is in his sword -
To carve his way to glory,
Through the servile Yankee horde.
No pompous pageant heralds him,
No sycophants attend,
In his belt you see his body guard -
His tried and trusty friend.
'Oh! he's nothing but a soldier,'
And a stranger in our land;
His home is in the sunny South,
By the blue Gulf's golden strand.
But I wish I knew his people,
Some little of his past,
For father's always telling me
About our 'social caste'.
'Oh! he's nothing but a soldier,'
But his eyes are very fine,
And I sometimes think, when passing,
They are piercing into mine.
Pshaw! 'He's nothing but a soldier,'
Come, let me be discreet;
But really, for a soldier,
His toilet's very neat.
'Oh! he's nothing but a soldier,'
But last night he came to tea -
What an interesting soldier -
But then, he's rather free.
'Twas two o'clock this morning,
Before he took his leave;
He has my ring - the fellow!
But what's the use to grieve?
He has been again to see us,
The 'gentleman' in grey;

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Americas
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Problems

Feat. coffee brown
Problems
Problems with your girl today
Problems
Problems with your man today
Situations
Hard to handle
Got me going out of my head
Theres so much pressure
I just cant deal
You think its all about
You and that sex appeal
But I got problems
(slickin around on the l to the hotel, all around town)
Let me know
(whos it gonna be, him or me)
It cant be three
Problems
Problems with your girl today
Problems
Problems with your girl today
[coffee brown]
Here we are
The two of us together
Taking this crazy chance
To be all alone
My man dont know
That we been loving each other
Cuz if he found out
Well have nothing
Nothing but
Problems
Problems with your man today
Problems
Problems with your man today
Problems
Problems with your man today
Problems
Problems with your man today
[next]
Said, can I get a witness
So many problems
Can I get a witness
[coffee]
Can I get a witness
So many problems
Can I get a witness
Problems
Problems with your girl today
Problems

[...] Read more

song performed by Next
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Problems (feat. Koffee Brown)

Problems
Problems with your girl today
Problems
Problems with your man today
situations hard to handle
got me goin out ofmy head
theres so much pressure
i just cant deal
you think its all about you
and that sex appeal
but i got problems
(slickin around on the "L" to the hotel all around town) let me know
(whos it gonna be him or me)
it cant be three
problems
problems with your girl today
problems
problems with your girl today
here we are
the two of us together
takin this crazy chance
to be all alone
my man dont know
that we been lovin eachother
cuz if he found out
we'll have nothin
nothin but
Problems
problems with your man today
problems
problems with your man today
problems
problems with your man today
problems
problems with your man today
said can i get a witness
so many problems
can i get a witness
can i get a witness
so many problems
can i get a witness
problems
problems with your girl today
problems
problems with your man today
problems
problems with your girl today
problems
problems with your man today

song performed by Next
Added by Lucian Velea
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In A Soldier...You Will Find...

In a soldier...
Loyalty and strength you see.
In a soldier...
Discipline, bravery.
In a soldier...
A world that is free.
In a soldier..
Sacrifice, so the world can be free.
In a soldier...
No compromise.
In a soldier...
Courage in his eyes.
In a soldier...
A special bond.
In a soldier...
Iraq, Viet-Nam.
In a soldier...
Sad, drooped eyes.
In a soldier...
Pain, when a buddy dies.
In a soldier...
Terrible places.
In a soldier...
Tough, grim faces.
In a soldier...
Stories untold.
In a soldier...
Action makes him old.
In a soldier...
Dark, frightening nights.
In a soldier...
Missing his lovely wife.
In a soldier...
Memories of a decent life.
In a soldier...
Scars deep in the mind.
In a soldier...
An exploding mine.
In a soldier...
The thrill of leaving war.
In a soldier...
No more pains anymore.
In a soldier...
No more tears.
In a soldier...
Leaving war, after a long, trying year.

poem by Philip Lore
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The Georgics

GEORGIC I

What makes the cornfield smile; beneath what star
Maecenas, it is meet to turn the sod
Or marry elm with vine; how tend the steer;
What pains for cattle-keeping, or what proof
Of patient trial serves for thrifty bees;-
Such are my themes.
O universal lights
Most glorious! ye that lead the gliding year
Along the sky, Liber and Ceres mild,
If by your bounty holpen earth once changed
Chaonian acorn for the plump wheat-ear,
And mingled with the grape, your new-found gift,
The draughts of Achelous; and ye Fauns
To rustics ever kind, come foot it, Fauns
And Dryad-maids together; your gifts I sing.
And thou, for whose delight the war-horse first
Sprang from earth's womb at thy great trident's stroke,
Neptune; and haunter of the groves, for whom
Three hundred snow-white heifers browse the brakes,
The fertile brakes of Ceos; and clothed in power,
Thy native forest and Lycean lawns,
Pan, shepherd-god, forsaking, as the love
Of thine own Maenalus constrains thee, hear
And help, O lord of Tegea! And thou, too,
Minerva, from whose hand the olive sprung;
And boy-discoverer of the curved plough;
And, bearing a young cypress root-uptorn,
Silvanus, and Gods all and Goddesses,
Who make the fields your care, both ye who nurse
The tender unsown increase, and from heaven
Shed on man's sowing the riches of your rain:
And thou, even thou, of whom we know not yet
What mansion of the skies shall hold thee soon,
Whether to watch o'er cities be thy will,
Great Caesar, and to take the earth in charge,
That so the mighty world may welcome thee
Lord of her increase, master of her times,
Binding thy mother's myrtle round thy brow,
Or as the boundless ocean's God thou come,
Sole dread of seamen, till far Thule bow
Before thee, and Tethys win thee to her son
With all her waves for dower; or as a star
Lend thy fresh beams our lagging months to cheer,
Where 'twixt the Maid and those pursuing Claws
A space is opening; see! red Scorpio's self
His arms draws in, yea, and hath left thee more
Than thy full meed of heaven: be what thou wilt-
For neither Tartarus hopes to call thee king,

[...] Read more

poem by Virgil
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Brave Little Soldier

Im a brave little soldier
I must be bold and strong
A brave little soldier
And I must carry on
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Im a brave little soldier
I must fight, I must win
Im a brave little soldier
Through hell and back again
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Per rum, pum, pum
Per rum, pum, pum
Per rum, pum, pum, pum, pum
Ye though I am marching through the valley filled with fear
My steps are sure and sturdy and my aim is straight and clear
The enemy is stalking me just waiting for the kill
Like david slewed galiath
I will claim this battle field
Im a brave little soldier
I must do what I can
Im a brave little soldier
And I must take a stand
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Marching, marching onward
Searching out the light of truth
I did not start the war
But its a battle I cant lose
Faith will be my armor
And love my sword and shield
I must defeat the enemy
I will, I will, I will
A brave little soldier
I must be bold and strong
A brave little soldier
And I must carry on
A brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Brave, little soldier

song performed by Dolly Parton
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sun-Up

(Shadows over a cradle…
fire-light craning….
A hand
throws something in the fire
and a smaller hand
runs into the flame and out again,
singed and empty….
Shadows
settling over a cradle…
two hands
and a fire.)

I

CELIA

Cherry, cherry, glowing on the hearth, bright red cherry…. When you try to pick up cherry Celia's shriek sticks in you like a pin.

When God throws hailstones you cuddle in Celia's shawl and press your feet on her belly high up like a stool. When Celia makes umbrella of her hand. Rain falls through big pink spokes of her fingers. When wind blows Celia's gown up off her legs she runs under pillars of the bank— great round pillars of the bank have on white stockings too.

Celia says my father
will bring me a golden bowl.
When I think of my father
I cannot see him
for the big yellow bowl
like the moon with two handles
he carries in front of him.

Grandpa, grandpa…
(Light all about you…
ginger… pouring out of green jars…)
You don't believe he has gone away and left his great coat…
so you pretend… you see his face up in the ceiling.
When you clap your hands and cry, grandpa, grandpa, grandpa,
Celia crosses herself.

It isn't a dream…. It comes again and again…. You hear ivy crying on steeples the flames haven't caught yet and images screaming when they see red light on the lilies on the stained glass window of St. Joseph. The girl with the black eyes holds you tight, and you run… and run past the wild, wild towers… and trees in the gardens tugging at their feet and little frightened dolls shut up in the shops crying… and crying… because no one stops… you spin like a penny thrown out in the street. Then the man clutches her by the hair…. He always clutches her by the hair…. His eyes stick out like spears. You see her pulled-back face and her black, black eyes lit up by the glare…. Then everything goes out. Please God, don't let me dream any more of the girl with the black, black eyes.

Celia's shadow rocks and rocks… and mama's eyes stare out of the pillow as though she had gone away and the night had come in her place as it comes in empty rooms… you can't bear it— the night threshing about and lashing its tail on its sides as bold as a wolf that isn't afraid— and you scream at her face, that is white as a stone on a grave and pull it around to the light, till the night draws backward… the night that walks alone and goes away without end. Mama says, I am cold, Betty, and shivers. Celia tucks the quilt about her feet, but I run for my little red cloak because red is hot like fire.

I wish Celia
could see the sea climb up on the sky
and slide off again…

[...] Read more

poem by Lola Ridge
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Black History

Boom, boom, boom!
That was in 1530 to the Slave Trade;
My Mama told me so,
My Papa told me so,
In the name of our ancestors gone by;
Slaves for arms,
Slaves for powder,
Slaves for hardware,
Slaves for spirits;
Boom, boom, boom! !
All over the West Coast of Africa!
Today, i am a Blackman to tell you a story.

Black History, the Black African, the Black Race;
Of my ancestors gone by,
Boom, boom, boom!
Black head, black sugar, black coffee;
Where are the true identities of the Blacks?
That was in 1530 to the Slave trade.

Black History, black love;
A Black Race to a call.
Tap your fingers and do think about it,
My Mama told me so;
Bllack shoes, black phones;
With the Black History gone too soon,
My Papa told me so.
Black hair, black eyes;
The black coal to steam up the engines!
In the name of my ancestors gone by;
But, where are the black pens of love to share?

Do think about this and learn from it,
Boom, boom, boom!
A Blackman in the house to tell us a story;
Where is William Wilberforce?
Where is Thomas Buxton?
Where is Granville Sharp?
What about the Slaves? !
These men need to tell us more;
They killed my ancestors softly without compensations!
Black love, black stream, a black home to live in;
Like 'Naughty By Nature',
I've got 'Queen Latifah' to tell us more.

Of the Black Songs,
Of the Black race,
With a Black-Limo to keep us going;
This Slave Trade was a Black History to us all.
Boom, boom, boom!

[...] Read more

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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He Knows You Know

(derek disck/steve rothery/ pete trewavas/ micheal pointer/mark kelly/diz minnett/brian jellyman)
He knows, you know, he knows, you know
Problems, problems, problems, problems
Light switch, yellow fever, crawling up your bathroom wall
Singing psychedelic praises to the depths of a china bowl
Youve got venom in your stomach, youve got poison in your head
You should have listened to the priest at the confession
When he offered you the sacred bread
He knows, you know, he knows, you know, he knows, you know
But hes got problems
Fast feed, crystal fever, swarming through a fractured mind
Chilling needles freeze emotion, the blind shall lead the blind
Youve got venom in you stomach, youve got poison in your head
When your conscience whispered, the vein lines stiffened
You were walking with the dead
He knows, you know, he knows, you know, he knows, you know
Hes got experience
Hes got experience, he knows, you know
But hes got problems
Problems, problems, problems, problems, problems, problems.
He knows...
Slash wrist, scarlet fever, crawled under your bathroom door
Pumping arteries ooze the problem, through the gap that the razor tore
Youve got venom in your stomach, youve got poison in your head
You should have listened to your analyst questions when yo lay on his leather bed
He knows, you know, he knows, you know, he knows, you know
But hes got problems
Blank eyes, purple fever, streaming through the frosted pane
You learned your lesson far to late from the links in a chemist chain
Youve got venom in your stomach, youve got poison in your head
You should have stayed at home and talked with father
Listen to the lies he fed
He knows, you know, he knows, you know, he knows, you know
But hes got problems
He knows, you know, he knows, you know, he knows, you know
Hes got experience
Hes got experience, he knows, you know
He knows, you know, you know, you know
You know, you know, you know, you know
Problems, problems, problems, problems, problems, problems
Dont give me your problems

song performed by Marillion
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Soldier- Dedicated to Nicholas Shelton

There is discipline in A Soldier you can see it when he walks,
There is honor in A Soldier you hear it when he talks.
There is courage in A Soldier you can see it in his eyes,
There is loyalty in A Soldier that he will not compromise.
There is something in A Soldier that makes him stand apart,
There is strength in A Soldier that beats from his heart.
A Soldier isn't a title any man can be hired to do,
A Soldier is the soul of that man buried deep inside of you.
A Soldier's job isn't finished after an 8 hour day or a 40 hour week,
A Soldier is always A Soldier even while he sleeps.
A Soldier serves his country first and his life is left behind,
A Soldier has to sacrifice what comes first in a civilian's mind.
If you are civilian - I am saying this to you..... next time you see A Soldier remember what they do.
A Soldier is the reason our land is 'Home of the free',
A Soldier is the one that is brave protecting you and me.
If you are A Soldier - I am saying this to you.....
Thank God for EVERY SOLDIER Thank God for what YOU do!

I thought about you Mr. Shelton, I figured this is the least I could do to thank you my friend.

poem by Caleb Jones
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Tamar

I
A night the half-moon was like a dancing-girl,
No, like a drunkard's last half-dollar
Shoved on the polished bar of the eastern hill-range,
Young Cauldwell rode his pony along the sea-cliff;
When she stopped, spurred; when she trembled, drove
The teeth of the little jagged wheels so deep
They tasted blood; the mare with four slim hooves
On a foot of ground pivoted like a top,
Jumped from the crumble of sod, went down, caught, slipped;
Then, the quick frenzy finished, stiffening herself
Slid with her drunken rider down the ledges,
Shot from sheer rock and broke
Her life out on the rounded tidal boulders.

The night you know accepted with no show of emotion the little
accident; grave Orion
Moved northwest from the naked shore, the moon moved to
meridian, the slow pulse of the ocean
Beat, the slow tide came in across the slippery stones; it drowned
the dead mare's muzzle and sluggishly
Felt for the rider; Cauldwell’s sleepy soul came back from the
blind course curious to know
What sea-cold fingers tapped the walls of its deserted ruin.
Pain, pain and faintness, crushing
Weights, and a vain desire to vomit, and soon again
die icy fingers, they had crept over the loose hand and lay in the
hair now. He rolled sidewise
Against mountains of weight and for another half-hour lay still.
With a gush of liquid noises
The wave covered him head and all, his body
Crawled without consciousness and like a creature with no bones,
a seaworm, lifted its face
Above the sea-wrack of a stone; then a white twilight grew about
the moon, and above
The ancient water, the everlasting repetition of the dawn. You
shipwrecked horseman
So many and still so many and now for you the last. But when it
grew daylight
He grew quite conscious; broken ends of bone ground on each
other among the working fibers
While by half-inches he was drawing himself out of the seawrack
up to sandy granite,
Out of the tide's path. Where the thin ledge tailed into flat cliff
he fell asleep. . . .
Far seaward
The daylight moon hung like a slip of cloud against the horizon.
The tide was ebbing
From the dead horse and the black belt of sea-growth. Cauldwell
seemed to have felt her crying beside him,

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poem by Robinson Jeffers
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What You Find

There is discipline in A Soldier
you can see it when he walks,
There is honor in A Soldier
you hear it when he talks.
There is courage in A Soldier
you can see it in his eyes,
There is loyalty in A Soldier
that he will not compromise.
There is something in A Soldier
that makes him stand apart,
There is strength in A Soldier
that beats from his heart.
A Soldier isn't a title any man
can be hired to do,
A Soldier is the soul of that man
buried deep inside of you.
A Soldier's job isn't finished after
an 8 hour day or a 40 hour week,
A Soldier is always A Soldier
even while he sleeps.
A Soldier serves his country first
and his life is left behind,
A Soldier has to sacrifice what
comes first in a civilian's mind.
If you are civilian -
I am saying this to you.....
next time you see A Soldier
remember what they do.
A Soldier is the reason our land
is 'Home of the free',
A Soldier is the one that is brave
protecting you and me.
If you are A Soldier -
I am saying this to you.....
Thank God for EVERY SOLDIER
Thank God for what YOU do!


TY bohls

poem by Ty. Bohls
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V. Count Guido Franceschini

Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Irish Soldier

The Irish soldier, cast for fight,
Stood to his arms at dead of night,
Watching the east, until its ray
To the battle--field should show his way;--
Soldier, soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight though they call you slave,
And though you but help a bandit hand
Uncheck'd to kill in your native land.

The soldier thought on his chance of doom--
How the trampled sod might be his tomb--
How, in evening's dusk, his sightless stare
To the small pale stars might upward glare;--
Soldier, soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight though you think of the grave--
Though it yawn so near you, black and chill,
Honor and courage man you still.

And o'er his solemn brow he made
The Christian sign, and humbly said--
``Your prayers, good saints, if I should fall;
And for mercy, O Lord, on you I call!''--
Irish soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight, although you crave
The prayers of the saints your own to aid,
And the sign of the cross on your brow have made.

The morning broke--the bugle blew--
The voice of command the soldier knew,
And stern and straight in the van he stood,
And shouting, he rush'd to the work of blood;--
Irish soldier, soldier bold,
Thousands lay round you, crimson'd and cold--
But over their bodies you still fought on,
Till down you sank as the day was won.

And the Irish soldier now hath come,
Worn, and wounded, and crippled, home,
The hated, and slander'd, and scorn'd of those
Who safely slept while he faced their foes;--
Irish soldier, soldier bold,
In your native land you now are told
'Twas traitor--blood on that field you lost,
For you call'd on the saints, and your brow you cross'd!

poem by John Banim
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