Memorial Day, 2008

Memorial Day reminds us to support the troops in the best way possible by BRINGING THEM HOME NOW!!!

Do not be misled.

This war is about oil.

It is about once again having the poor die to grow the wealth of the rich.

The powerful have cynically chosen to kill the weak to gather a few dollars more.

We need to stand tall and not back down.

The troops are being misused, mistreated and mislaid by those in power.

We must not forget their sacrifice and we must honor their service.

Bring them Home Now!

Support the New GI Bill.

And never forget the fools who chose money over their precious lives.


(I found this poem on a public poetry site. It expresses its truth so much better than I can.)

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The Patriot Game by kendall thomas

~I am the grass that covers all
And sucks summer through their teeth~


I come to his grave beneath its bright pennon,
but I do not wonder why he went. I know.
It is because he was young and didn’t believe that old men lie.
That’s why young men die.

I stand by his grave and want to hold his hand once more,
as I did when he was a child, to stare into his eyes and to see his
smile.
But that can never be, for the game is done.

I do not wonder why he went. I know.
Because he heard the siren call and believed it was Liberty that called.
And being young and naive, he wanted to fight for Victory and Glory-
but only the mountebanks have won.

I cannot speak to him; for he no longer hears; so I whisper to the grass
which covers all young men and sucks summer through their teeth:
It is not your fault for having gone.
It is ours who kept silent and let you go for fear of drawing attention
to ourselves.
It is to parents who would not say “No more; not this one, you evil
bastards! ”

But all are cowards when ‘Liberty’ raises her flaming sword,
and the wealthy, like jaded whores, get richer off the blood that young
men pour.
And we pretend on Memorial Day that some great deed was done.
But I stand above this grave and know that nothing’s won.

One smile again from my dead son would cancel out all the bombs
that madmen have ever flung. But the game is done.

Ah,
how little I must have valued those trusting arms around my neck when
he was young.

No more kisses for your daddy now.
No more my warm, soft son.