Poetry for the day

I found some poetry that I thought was pretty good, so I decided to post it.

"The Cowboy" by Julie Redick pays tribute to President Bush:

They call him a cowboy, as they attempt to hide
From all their own failures, for they let the threat ride.
Terrorism building, zeroing in from all sides.
Selling out the country for political pride.
For eight years they played with our country's life.
"Leave all to the cowboy, he'll buckle under the strife."
Now they seem to have forgotten that autumn day
When their failures came to life in a horrific way.
Tearfully but firmly, the "cowboy" began to sing
Hymns for 3,000 souls that had suddenly taken wing.

There is more they've forgotten in their attempt to deride:
Those "cowboys" before him that we once hailed with pride.
Those men who risked everything for good over bad.
Founding Fathers and others--the best that we had.
Sons, brothers, fathers and husbands went forth
Taking up arms to bravely ensure democracy's worth.
Risking everything they had for liberty & freedom
For the cowards of today the right to spout all their venom.

So, they call him a "cowboy," and thank God he is.
He rides strong, firm and high in that saddle of his.
Most of us will never forget his words of that day
That are etched in our memory as he had his say.
"We will not forget, falter or fail."
Thus our fight for freedom will never pale.C
all him what you will--Our Constitution you enjoy.
Just remember all our heroes have once been cowboys;
Cowboys who shed blood to keep everyone free.
Starting with a call for Independence by decree.
Never backing down from all the Hitlers among men
Who would seek to undermine what we have always been.

Freedom and liberty started with the dreams of a few
Who then passed it down as a precious gift to you.
If you have the courage to defend all you enjoy.
Then set your course remembering
all our heroes have been "cowboys."

This one I jut thought was funny (luckily it includes the context!).
On a lighter note, in December 2001 anti-American polemicist Robert Fisk of London's Independent got mugged by a gang of Afghans at a refugee camp in Pakistan. Although his attackers obviously were after his property--he acknowledges that they repeatedly "grabbed my bag"--he wrote a column insisting that they actually were politically motivated and that they, like him, hated America. That prompted this limerick by Tom Spaulding:

There once was a writer named Fisk
Who opined at "great personal risk"
Till a teed off Afghani
With the strength of my granny
Kicked his "what used to be kissed"

And just one line from the last poem on the page, probably my favorite line out of all the poems: "It's better fought and lost than never fought."

If you want some more fun and thought provoking poetry, check out the website: A Day of Poetry for the War