The Crude Colossus

 

the new crude colsass

Not unlike a brazen giant of freak fame,
With transplant faux hair and a bad spray-tan;
Here at his brain-washed, iron-clad gates shall stand
A mighty moron with a torch, whose flame
Is the persona of gaslighting, and his name
Betrayer of Exiles. From his beacon-hand
Glows world-wide “No-Trespass” sign; his eyes scan
The bridgeless harbor that his sinful cities frame.

“Return to your ancient lands, you matter not!” cries he
With puckered lips. “I don’t want your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses scheming to steal from me
Such wretched refuse shan’t set foot upon my shore.
Send these, the homeless, back across the sea,
The light’s off and I locked the door!”
 by Hugh A Tague

The Oldest Battle

Good & Evil
Good & Evil

The Oldest Battle 

It is the oldest battle ever waged
that of good and evil no soul is safe
light and darkness they are so described
In side of all of us they both reside.

No warriors weapons or battlefield
to either side a person’s soul may yield
the battle nor war can be lost or won
for life’s decisions can not be undone.

Without light in darkness we can not see
without darkness the light we do not need
a balance of each all of us must keep
then and only then can a soul be free.

by Hugh A Tague

“Burst of Joy”

Burst of Joy
Colonel John F. O’Grady POW/MIA  Photo by Salva Veder.

 “Burst of Joy”

( Storyline; first person) 
by Hugh A Tague

Carried on the wings of my Thunderchief
High above the Earth’s surface
Below my feet a land divided
On the Asian Island chain
Communism creeps

The bombs on my belly
Loaded with freedom from afar
Fire of oppression finds me
Returned to the Earth alive
Received into the hands of the Devil

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Five of Cups

Photograph by Matthew Rambo
Photograph by Matthew Rambo

Five of Cups
By Hugh A Tague

Today’s potential consumed by the past
greener pastures through these eyes yet unseen
raw emotion cuts the land wide open
without resolve in place I am frozen.

Obsession’s tight grip keeps me in darkness
my kingdom awash in future’s bright light
water of forgiveness flows in-between
crossing it means then my mind can be free.

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Time’s Up

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Time’s Up

by Hugh A Tague

Foot steps echo louder as they near my cell
they said I will feel a pinch then warmth
death row inmate to eternal sleeper
releasing fear’s icy grip to the reaper.

Seven years of appeals my time is up
a heinous act someone just had to pay
I’m innocent I didn’t do the crime
I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

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Way Of The Warrior

Photo by Matthew Woltunski
Photo by Matthew Woltunski

This poem was inspired by
(Robert Frost’s “A Soldier”)

Way Of The Warrior
By Hugh Tague

The warrior’s body thrown to the ground
his soul released from its earthly bounds.
Freed to a place not known by men
Humanity struggles to understand.

The effect of his actions on the planet
taunt the universe we take for granted.
The weapons used to fall the man
rip, tear and destroy the land.

Sight set on victory at any cost
the warrior once stood tall, now is lost.

http://trrpoetry.blogspot.com/2013/05/poem-way-of-warrior_26.html