Hero Poems

Popular Hero Poems
Crazy
by Laxmi Prasad Devkota

1.
Oh yes, friend! I'm crazy-
that's just the way I am.

2.
I see sounds,
I hear sights,
I taste smells,
I touch not heaven but things from the underworld,
things people do not believe exist,

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Duino Elegies: The First Elegy
by Rainer Maria Rilke

Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels'
hierarchies? and even if one of them suddenly
pressed me against his heart, I would perish
in the embrace of his stronger existence.
For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror
which we are barely able to endure and are awed
because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
Each single angel is terrifying.
And so I force myself, swallow and hold back
the surging call of my dark sobbing.

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War Is Never Over
by Cecil L. Harrison

War is never over
Thought the treaties may be signed
The memories of the battles
Are forever in our minds

War is never over
So when you welcome heroes home
Remember in their minds they hold
Memories known to them alone


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Croma
by James Macpherson

Malvina, the daughter of Toscar, is overheard by Ossian lamenting the death of Oscar her lover. Ossian, to divert her grief, relates his own actions in expedition which he undertook, at Fingal's command, to aid Crothar the petty king of Croma, a country in Ireland, against Rothmar, who invaded his dominions. The story is delivered down thus in tradition. Crothar, king of Croma, being blind with age, and his son too young for the field, Rothmar, the chief of Tromo resolved to avail himself of the opportunity offered of annexing the dominions of Crothar to his own. He accordingly marched into the country subject to Crothar, but which he held of Arth or Artho, who was, at the time, supreme king of Ireland.

Crothar being, on account of his age and blindness unfit for action, sent for aid to Fingal, king of Scotland; who ordered his son Ossian to the relief of Crothar. But before his arrival Fovargormo, the son of Crothar, attacking Rothmar, was slain himself, and his forces totally defeated. Ossian renewed the war; came to battle, killed Rothmar, and routed his army. Croma being thus delivered of its enemies, Ossian returned to Scotland.

"It was the voice of my love! seldom art thou in the dreams of Malvina! Open your airy halls, O father of Toscar of shields! Unfold the gates of your clouds: the steps of Malvina are near. I have heard a voice in my dream. I feel the fluttering of my soul. Why didst thou come, O blast! from the dark-rolling face of the lake? Thy rustling wing was in the tree; the dream of Malvina fled. But she beheld her love when his robe of mist flew on the wind. A sunbeam was on his skirts, they glittered like the gold of the stranger. It was the voice of my love! seldom comes he to my dreams!

"But thou dwellest in the soul of Malvina, son of mighty Ossian! My sighs arise with the beam of the east; my tears descend with the drops of night. I was a lovely tree, in thy presence, Oscar, with all my branches round me; but thy death came like a blast from the desert, and laid my green head low. The spring returned with its showers; no leaf of mine arose! The virgins saw me silent in the hall; they touched the harp of joy. The tear was on the cheek of Malvina: the virgins beheld me in my grief. Why art thou sad, they said, thou first of the maids of Lutha! Was he lovely as the beam of the morning, and stately in thy sight?"

Pleasant is thy song in Ossian's ear, daughter of streamy Lutha! Thou hast heard the music of departed bards in the dream of thy rest, when sleep fell on thine eyes, at the murmur of Moruth. When thou didst return from the chase in the day of the sun, thou hast heard the music of bards, and thy song is lovely! It is lovely, O Malvina! but it melts the soul. There is a joy in grief when peace dwells in the breast of the sad. But sorrow wastes the mournful, O daughter of Toscar! and their days are few! They fall away, like the flower on which the sun hath looked in his strength, after the mildew has passed over it, when its head is heavy with the drops of night. Attend to the tales of Ossian, O maid! He remembers the days of his youth!


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Book Of Love - One More Pair
by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

LOVE is indeed a glorious prize!
What fairer guerdon meets our eyes?--
Though neither wealth nor power are thine,
A very hero thou dost shine.
As of the prophet, they will tell,
Wamik and Asia's tale as well.--
They'll tell not of them,--they'll but give
Their names, which now are all that live.
The deeds they did, the toils they proved
No mortal knows! But that they loved

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Recent Hero Poems
Sonnet 06: Virtuous Whispers
by Christen Kuikoua

In life's vast stage, where heroes may disguise,
Not all in robes of grandeur, they arise.
Amongst celestial stars in graceful stance,
A hidden hero's love and kind romance.

In moments dark, where tears like rivers flow,
Her soothing words in whispers gentle grow.
A guiding light, through nighttime's somber flight,
In galaxies, her presence brings delight.


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A Sonnet of 20: Top Dog
by Ayatullah Nurjati

Soon the national event will begin
This is a fact that will be explained, not just a promise but it doesn't make its citizens crazy
The drumbeat of the war of ideas will once again don't create any distance of margin
The emerging political nuances indicate that this country is truly mature in marking its democracy

The citizens of this country must also be smart in choosing their leaders
Even though I'm just like a cricket in the wilderness or like a bay leaf which always becomes a spice when the water is stirred up where delicious side dishes are served and then thrown away when it's accidentally served on the dining table. Well that's the fate of commoners like me
Actually, it's simple to choose a leader, namely someone who is trustworthy and can accommodate our aspirations as their users
Citizens should not only be used when the democratic party starts, but should be protected when they lead as tiers


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I Am Searching For A Real Hero
by Hébert Logerie

I am searching for a real Hero
Not a virtual or an actual zero
I am searching for many Heroes
And I want to earn many zeros
After any number greater than one
I want to go beyond the Heaven
But I don’t want to get high
I want to go high, high, high
And get as much knowledge that I can
And I want to say that yes, I can

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Sassy Sun
by Evelyn Judy Buehler

I had named my verbose parrot Sunny, as he filled my world with sunshine;
For when someone truly touches the heart, you often must give some sign.

I habitually called him 'Sun' for short, and we had become best of friends,
Like the friendship nature cherishes, with all the vibrant beauty she tends.

Sunny and I loved watching old crime movies, the same ones, repeatedly.
Funny Sunny would often get his two cents in, mimicking villains heatedly!

How I enjoyed those bits of hilarity from my bird, who was golden yellow,

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elegy to my neighborhood hero
by Sarah A

i woke up in a haze
a fog foreshadowing
a reunion
with the unexplainable
unescapable
unclear
nature of life
i sailed my bike in the storm
screamed in terror and delight
hoping to outrun my demons

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