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~ Independence Day Poems ~

Turning Domination Into Sovereignty



~ Independence Day Poems - Celebrating Our Freedom ~


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THE FREEDOM DECREE
by Michael Sage

Freedom is non-negotiable I do decree,
However, at what price and when is freedom, no longer free.
I ask this question because I am sure that we all agree,
Our country has become so corrupt and full of anarchy.

Our ruling politicians are causing chaos and unrelenting strife,
And expect us to march to the beat of their drums, and noisy fife.
While they abuse our trust, our taxes and embezzlement is rife,
And they make a misery of our right to a normal self-respecting life.

When our guests from other countries both far and near,
Have no rights and continually live with anxiety and also in fear.
Our constitution and other human rights that we hold so dear,
Are under threat by the ruling party who would like it to disappear.

When Joe Citizen finds it hard to stomach the deterioration of so many things,
And our leaders believe that we are their pawns and they are the kings.
When an immoral, unethical, dishonest leader expects us to jump when he sings,
Is the reason that all creed and colors are looking abroad to spread their wings.

Our leaders must realize circumventing the law for self-enrichment is not the key,
If we want our country to be prosperous and to be revered internationally.
A leader’s job is not to dictate, but rather to be respected, admired and be a trustee,
Of the land we love, with so much potential, a land which should be freer than free.      


~ Independence Day Poems ~


RAGGED OLD FLAG
by Johnny Cash

I walked through a county courthouse square,
On a park bench an old man was sitting there.
I said, "Your old courthouse is kinda run down."
He said, "Naw, it'll do for our little town."
I said, "Your flagpole has leaned a little bit,
And that's a Ragged Old Flag you got hanging on it.

He said, "Have a seat", and I sat down.
"Is this the first time you've been to our little town?"
I said, "I think it is." He said, "I don't like to brag,
But we're kinda proud of that Ragged Old Flag."

"You see, we got a little hole in that flag there
When Washington took it across the Delaware.
And it got powder-burned the night Francis Scott Key
Sat watching it writing -Oh Say Can You See-.
And it got a bad rip in New Orleans
With Packingham and Jackson tuggin' at its seams."

"And it almost fell at the Alamo
Beside the Texas flag, but she waved on through.
She got cut with a sword at Chancellorsville
And she got cut again at Shiloh Hill.
There was Robert E. Lee, Beauregard, and Bragg,
And the south wind blew hard on that Ragged Old Flag."

"On Flanders Field in World War I
She got a big hole from a Bertha gun.
She turned blood red in World War II
She hung limp and low by the time it was through.
She was in Korea and Vietnam.
She went where she was sent by her Uncle Sam."

"She waved from our ships upon the briny foam,
And now they've about quit waving her back here at home.
In her own good land she's been abused --
She's been burned, dishonored, denied and refused."

"And the government for which she stands
Is scandalized throughout the land.
And she's getting threadbare and wearing thin,
But she's in good shape for the shape she's in.
'Cause she's been through the fire before
And I believe she can take a whole lot more."

"So we raise her up every morning,
Take her down every night.
We don't let her touch the ground
And we fold her up right.
On second thought I DO like to brag,
'Cause I'm mighty proud of that Ragged Old Flag."


~ Independence Day Poems ~


LET AMERICA BE AMERICA AGAIN
by Langston Hughes

Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.

(America never was America to me.)

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed–
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.

(It never was America to me.)

O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.

(There’s never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this “homeland of the free.”)

Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?

I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery’s scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek–
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one’s own greed!

I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean–
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today–O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.

Yet I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That’s made America the land it has become.
O, I’m the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home–
For I’m the one who left dark Ireland’s shore,
And Poland’s plain, and England’s grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa’s strand I came
To build a “homeland of the free.”

The free?

Who said the free? Not me?
Surely not me? The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we’ve dreamed
And all the songs we’ve sung
And all the hopes we’ve held
And all the flags we’ve hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay–
Except the dream that’s almost dead today.

O, let America be America again–
The land that never has been yet–
And yet must be–the land where every man is free.
The land that’s mine–the poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME–
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.
Sure, call me any ugly name you choose–
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people’s lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!

O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath–
America will be!

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain–
All, all the stretch of these great green states–
And make America again!


~ Independence Day Poems ~


I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
by Walt Whitman

I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,
The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work,
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand
singing on the steamboat deck,
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands,
The wood-cutter’s song, the ploughboy’s on his way in the morning, or
at noon intermission or at sundown,
The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of
the girl sewing or washing,
Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,
The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young fellows,
robust, friendly,
Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs.


~ Independence Day Poems ~


FOURTH OF JULY NIGHT
by Carl Sandburg

The little boat at anchor in black water sat murmuring to the tall black sky
A white sky bomb fizzed on a black line.
A rocket hissed it's red signature into the west.
Now a shower of Chinese fire alphabets,
A cry of flower pots broken in flames,
A long curve to a purple spray, three violet balloons---
Drips of seaweed tangled in gold, shimmering symbols of mixed numbers,
Tremulous arrangements of cream gold folds of a bride's wedding gown---
A few sky bombs spoke their pieces, then velvet dark.
The little boat at anchor in black water sat murmuring to the tall black sky.


~ Independence Day Poems ~


THANK GOD FOR INDEPENDENCE DAY
by Loyd C. Taylor

When Mayor Ike perfects his address,
And fireman Ross polishes the chrome,
Then Veterans in their uniforms dress,
When America again is loved as home;
And little Bobby and Jan get excited,
As proud flags are raised with the hoist,
When fireworks are set to be ignited,
And patriotic eyes become all moist;
As we pledge the flag and anthems sing,
And celebrate the sound of freedom’s ring...
Thank God for Independence Day!

When the crowds search for shady spaces,
And foreigners with hungry eyes stare,
Then excitement shines in little faces,
As freedom’s spirit permeates the air;
When high school bands march with dancing feet,
And Private Rankin is standing tall,
As the Stars and Stripes adorn each street,
When Sally Jenkins answers the call;
As whistles scream and Liberty Bell rings,
And the eagles soar on majestic wings...
Thank God for Independence Day!


~ Independence Day Poems ~


INDEPENDENCE DAY
by Dr Kamran Haider Bukhari

He killed his brother
for the sake of land;
I killed mine,
because he was not a believer.

Am I a human,
or just belong to
certain race, religion, sect, ideology or tribe?

Am I a free man,
or just trapped in the self-created, six feet coffin
of pseudo-pride?

I know not
either you are righteous
or I am truthful.

I just know
we are celebrating
our independence day
in the midst of
self-imposed bloodshed,
corrupt leadership,
on-sale dignity,
mocking poverty,
and dying morality.


~ Independence Day Poems ~


INDEPENDENCE DAY
by Rafique Farooqi

With green soft,
and delicate leaves,
my little friend,
waiting for my caressing,
and watering,
with smiling gaze,
happy in his container,
blooming with friendly nurture,
I think this place is not better,
for him,
he needs, soft fertile soil in the ground,
I loved him with my own way,
but he is capable of going on,
with his own way,
today is his independence day,
standing proudly,
In his soils,
breathing and smiling,
over his independence.


~ Independence Day Poems ~


FOURTH OF JULY NIGHT
by Carl Sandburg

The little boat at anchor in black water sat murmuring to the tall black sky
A white sky bomb fizzed on a black line.
A rocket hissed it’s red signature into the west.
Now a shower of Chinese fire alphabets,
A cry of flower pots broken in flames,
A long curve to a purple spray, three violet balloons
Drips of seaweed tangled in gold, shimmering symbols f mixed numbers,
Tremulous arrangements of cream gold folds of a bride’s wedding gown
A few sky bombs spoke their pieces, then velvet dark.
The little boat at anchor in black water sat murmuring to the tall black sky.


~ Independence Day Poems ~


I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
By Walt Whitman

I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear;
Those of mechanics—each one singing his, as it should be, blithe and strong;
The carpenter singing his, as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his, as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work;
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat—the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck;
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench—the hatter singing as he stands;
The wood-cutter’s song—the ploughboy’s, on his way in the morning, or at the noon intermission, or at sundown;
The delicious singing of the mother—or of the young wife at work—or of the girl sewing or washing—
Each singing what belongs to her, and to none else;
The day what belongs to the day—
At night, the party of young fellows, robust, friendly,
Singing, with open mouths, their strong melodious songs.




~ Independence Day Poems - Celebrating Our Freedom ~


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Definition of Independence Day .....Wikipedia

Definition of Independence Day .....The Free Dictionary



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