#Independence Day Poems

[kvothes]

i’m at the national poetry month. i’m at the independent bookstore day. i’m at the national independent bookstore poetry month day.

[the-most-humble-blog]

🛐 THE REAL PROTAGONIST WAS A DRUNK IN A TRAILER — AND HE SAVED THE F*CKING WORLD (A Blacksite Eulogy for Russell Casse, the Only Man Who Deserved Fireworks on July 4th)

You want to talk about heroes?

Not the sanitized TikTok military kids. Not the squeaky clean captains with million-dollar jawlines and scripted redemption arcs. I’m talking about a crop-dusting, beer-swigging, alien-abducted burnout who flew his last plane straight into God’s teeth — because nobody else f*cking would.

His name was Russell. F*cking. Casse. And you will put respect on it.

🧠 THE MEASURE OF A MAN? It’s not who he was at his cleanest. It’s who he was at his brokenest.

Russell Casse was mocked, alienated, ignored. He lost his wife. He lost his mind. He lost custody of public opinion the moment he said the words, “I was abducted.”

But when the aliens actually showed up — that so-called lunatic was the only one who already had the flight path drawn.

🛑 YOU MOCKED HIM FOR BEING A VICTIM Let’s call it what it was:

He served in Vietnam.

Got abducted.

Experimented on.

Left hollow by forces beyond comprehension.

And then America turned him into a punchline.

People didn’t just ignore him. They laughed. They whispered. They pointed. They pitied.

Until the skies cracked open and daddy was right the whole time.

🍺 HE WAS A DRUNK. SO WHAT? He still showed up. He still climbed in that cockpit. And when the fancy jets couldn’t finish the job? When every pilot with medals and IQs and magazine cover teeth ran out of ammo?

He flew straight into that alien’s colon and died like a warrior.

📡 WHAT HE REALLY REPRESENTED: Russell Casse is the walking metaphor for every man this country abuses and discards — until the chaos hits, and suddenly they need him.

They need the flawed one. The dirty one. The "unstable" one. The real one.

The guy who says, “Tell my kids I love them,” while flying a missile-less jet into an interstellar gaping death ray.

That’s not a death. That’s a sermon.

💥 THE REST OF Y’ALL GOT TO HUG YOUR KIDS Russell did not.

He died in flame. So you could kiss your daughter on the forehead. So Will Smith could light a cigar. So a president could give a speech.

But it was Russell Motherf*cking Casse who gave everything left when he had nothing left to give.

🧠 TL;DR He wasn’t the main character

He wasn’t on the posters

He wasn’t respected

But he was necessary

And he won the war

You salute Captain America. You tweet about Iron Man. But deep down? You’d have died without the crop duster with PTSD and a hangover.

💣 CALL TO ACTION: 🔁 Reblog this if you know America only survives because of men like Russell 🛩️ Save this post for the next time someone tells you broken men can’t be heroes 💥 Send it to anyone who still thinks “main character energy” is a hairstyle and not a body count 📡 Bookmark it so future generations know who actually saved the planet

⚖️ LEGAL DISCLAIMER:

This post is satire, historical memory reclamation, cultural eulogy, and unsanitized masculine mythos protected under literary commentary and spiritual war doctrine.

If you’re offended: Go cry in the cockpit you never had the balls to enter.

🛐

[gemsofgreece]

The Free Besieged

Excerpt, by Dionysius Solomos (1798 - 1857)

Clumsy unprofessional translation by me

April and Eros dance and laugh and as many flowers blossom and fruits grow, that many weapons surround you. A small white hill of sheep bleats in movement and sprouts deep from the sea again and brilliantly white it fused now with the sky’s radiance. And on the lake waters, where she reached in a hurry, a blue butterfly was playing with her reflection after her fragrant sleep inside the wild lily. The little worm enjoys this sweet hour as well. A bewitching spell is the nature, and a dream of grace and splendour. The black stone turns all gold and so does the withered meadow. From a thousand fountains it pours, with a thousand tongues it cries: “The one who dies today dies a thousand times.” The soul shivers and sweetly abandons itself.

Short analysis:

"The Free Besieged" is an incomplete work comprised of separate poems in fragmentary form, composed by the poet Dionysius Solomos. Solomos was inspired by the Third Siege of Missholongi, a major event of the Greek War of Independence, which started in April 1825 and culminated tragically in April 1826 with more than 9,000 casualties. Solomos' work is just one example of a common pattern amongst the artists who were inspired by the Greek Revolution. The rite of spring and the majestic beauty of nature play a significant part in a lot of their works. The art of this era often stresses the terrible contrast of human lives lost when the life in nature reaches its zenith. Abandoning the devastating beauty to be enveloped in the eternal darkness. There are two reasons behind this loved trope; the Greek War of Independence broke out in late March 1821 and the celebration of spring was bound in people's minds with the pursuit of freedom. Not only a lot of the tragedies took place in spring, which was filling people with grievance and misery at the time of the year life should be most prized but also dying at the time was in later years viewed in retrospect as dying right at the moment the Spring (freedom) was finally arriving.

BONUS transliteration from Greek to Latin characters:

O Aprílis me ton Érota horévun ke yelúne ki ós’ ánthia vyénun ke karpí, tós’ ármata se kliúne. Lefkó vunáki próvata kinúmeno velázi ke mes sti thálassa vathiá xanapetiéte páli ki olólefko esísmixe me tu uranú ta kálli. Ke mes stis límnis ta nerá, op’ éfthase me aspúða épexe me ton ískio tis ghalázia petalúða pu evóðiase ton ípno tis mésa ston ághrio kríno. To skulikáki vrískete s’ óra ghlikiá ki ekíno. Máyema i físis ki óniro stin omorfiá ke hári. I mávri pétra olóchrisi ke to xeró hortári. Me hílies vríses hínete, me hílies ghlósses kréni. "Ópios petháni símera, hílies forés pethéni " Trémi i psihí ke xastohá ghliká ton eaftó tis.

Happy Greek Independence Day!

[uwmspeccoll]

Independence Day Poems, Indigenously

This 4th of July we bring you some poems on the American nation from an indigenous point of view in Diane Glancy's (Cherokee, b. 1941) The Relief of America published in Chicago by Tia Chucha Press in 2000. A little bit of celebration, a little bit of snark . . . well, mostly snark. Published 24 years ago, many of the poems seem even more relevant today.

Diane Glancy is a poet, playwright, and educator of Cherokee, German, and English descent. This book is one of 40 by Glancy that form part of our Native American Literature Collection.

We wish you a safe and happy 4th of July . . . Indigenously.

View posts from Independence Days past.

View other posts from our Native American Literature Collection.

[gennsoup]

talks in the language of heart are like oak leaves there is hardly anything more lasting and eternal than them. than their silent presence in the middle of summer which will go into the ground, too until the next oblivion.

Yaryna Chornohuz, those who shall die in battle

[princess-cabugnason122609]

Eng: Happy Independence Day

Tag: Maligayang Araw ng Kalayaan

Bisaya: Malipayong Adlaw sa Kagawasan

(sorry I don't have a Yellow one for Bisaya)

Philippine Revolution

By: Princess Cabugnason (Me)

Three stars shining bright and bold,

White, Yellow, Blue, and Red, our flag forever to hold.

June 12th, our national holiday, Independence Day's proud claim,

Thanks to the bravery of our heroes, freedom's torch remains.

In Luzon's mountains, the revolution's spark took flight,

Bonifacio's cry for freedom echoed through day and night.

The Katipunan's secret meetings, a plan to overthrow the throne,

Luzon's courage ignited the flame that would soon spread to every home.

In Visayas' islands, the revolution's message resonated loud,

Leaders like Lapu-Lapu and Pantaleon Villegas stood proud.

Their bravery and sacrifice inspired a nation to unite,

Visayas' spirit played a vital role in the fight for freedom's light.

In Mindanao's lands, the revolution's call to arms was heard,

Heroes like Sultan Dipatuan Kudarat fought for freedom, undeterred.

Their legacy lives on, a testament to the power of the human spirit,

Mindanao's strength helped shape the Philippines' future merit.

Proud to be a Filipino, proud of our heritage and might,

Happy Independence Day to our country, shining bright!

We celebrate our freedom, and the bravery of our past,

Forever grateful for the heroes who made our independence last.

[prankprincess123]

I've only ever seen one maple tree,

Small and sick, outside the elementary.

I've never been where maples grow,

Only amidst mountains, pines and snow.

Ontario seems another planet to me,

Where they fight to forfeit my rights to be.

They say I live where healthcare's free,

But tell that to my destroyed lungs and knee.

That I should be glad for gun control,

While convicted terrorists are given parole.

My money and resources stolen away,

So that those in Quebec can just sit and play.

They change our anthem to cut out God,

And wonder why we call our 'leader' a fraud?

I still wear a flag each First of July,

While cheering for Mounties marching by.

I celebrate not the government far,

But cheer for the heroes from long ago war.

Who fought in a land over the sea,

For freedom the government takes from me.

I border a land that's a total mess,

But chaos there is different from my distress.

You live in a land where you can still be,

To talk and to worship, just live and be free.

So while my U.S.ian friends eat cake,

I'll watch your fireworks from across the lake.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Statue of Liberty, New York USA by Batistini Gaston on Flickr.

* * * *

“The New Colossus” by Emma Lazarus:

Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame. “Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

David Bromwich parses Lazarus’ message:

Like other late Romantics, she believed in republican freedom and the religion of the heart; they went together naturally and might be known to each other under the name of “sympathy.” … Americans, the poem says, must never forget what it is to be weak and comfortless. For me to know, through the workings of sympathy, that “heroic forms” have passed through a crisis like mine, can be a liberation in itself.

[tasavvur-e-jaana]

आजादि

//

written for my grandmother and her friend for whom this day was of utmost joy, but also holding a tinge of sorrow. this is inspired by their tales, their stories...

//

क्या हम एक नहि हो सकते थे? क्य हम फिर से नेक नहि हो सकते थे?

क्या वो बहारें फिर से नहि आ सकती थी? क्या वो हवाए फिर से न लेहरा सकती थी?

क्या हम लकीरो को नहि मोड़ सकते थे? रिश्तो को फिर से नहि जोड सकते थे?

हम पाक के मतलब को नहि समझ सके, हम भी हिन्द के मजहब पे नहि चल सके,

अपनो का हि खून बहाया हमने, जो महाभारत से न करने कि ठानी थी, वहि दोहराया हमने.

अब खूशी के जश्न से ज्यादा गम कि आन्धी उठति है, अब भी दिलो मे अफ़सोस कि लौ जलति है।

वो दिन अब वपस तो नहि आ सकते है, बस यहि है कि हम नफरत को मिटा सकते है,

तो इस आजादि के जश्न को अमन मे बदल दें, हर शिकवा व गिला को अब दूर कर दें।

[redinkquill]

Happy Fourth!

On this Fourth of July

We raised a king way up high

You can break the law as president

As long as your a White House resident

Command the troops to commit treason

Offering pardons to persuade beyond reason

This country is surpassing excess

We have to drain the Republican abscess

[the-garden-of-electric-light]

You tell me your story with only your heartbeat. And I feel your pain and all your joy. I feel the love you have for me.

[corners-of-the-skies]

Where were you when the last embers fell

On Thursday, the fourth of July?

I was on the lawn out front, thinking of days gone by

I stared in awe at these false stars

As they burned like suns in the sky

I wondered by this time next year

If spirit would still be alive

My country, you wear the face of your tyrants

The ones from which we were torn

Your leaders have poisoned your well of ideals

And I can't stand to recognize thee.

Your beauty is shadowed by hatred and wounds

From sea to shining sea

And each day the gaps grow further apart

Until we all drown inbetween

I'd like to think that I know how to swim

Your government weighs me like stones

Chained to my ankles from the depths down below

Too deep to cut the damned cord.

I want the courage to swim down and fight it

Your monsters that suck us all in

But alone I can't light the match that I need

To start such a fire within

If that day should come

Where we should all stand

Against tyrants, we must stand as one

The people united are needed to fight it

To save us from what is to come.

-Independence Day (4.7.24)

[im-here-but-not-really]

Red White Blue

Authors note: Happy Fourth of July 🇺🇸

Remember the red that watered the ground, from it sprouted the freedom we cherish. Through their valor and hardiness, a country was won and freedom was gained.

Remember the white fabric that we wrap around the souls who are brought forth into the land of the free. Their innocence and purity shining their light on the future of our country.

Remember the blue collars of the men and women that protect us. They who bound their lives for justice against those who seek to abuse their freedom.

Remember the red, white, and blue

[gargiyadav]

It’s 15th of August.

And here I am, comfortably seated in my chair, living, and breathing the air of independence.

My thoughts painted in saffron, white, and deep green, I let myself immerse in the deep oceanic love that I have for my country.

The land of the great sages, leaders, writers, and freedom fighters.

The land of the spirited.

The land that has always put spiritual evolution above anything else.

The land that has always believed.

Listening to A.R. Rehman’s ‘Vande Mataram’, my eyes are welling up thinking of all that India has given me.

Of course, it has given me a chance to witness the beauty of co-existence. Of sacrifice and valour.

It has given me a chance to listen to a hundred tales of bravery. Of resilience. Of Dharma.

But what I am most thankful for, is its gift of benevolence.

I have seen kindness flowering in every corner of my motherland.

In its flowing rivers that are worshipped.

How can these rivers be ordinary when there are a million prayers floating on them?

Sometimes in the mighty Himalayas, which have reminded people time and again of the triviality of a human’s existence, colour and creed then dissolve their meanings.

Sometimes through art and music, the boundaries of religion and language are transcended, and rigid notions are distilled. Art then becomes a common boon for all.

All these little examples are of places where benevolence is found abundantly.

One day, however, I might have to leave this land and go somewhere else, for livelihood.

Will I be able to leave my homeland, then?

And if I do, will I still sing praises of it, on days like these?

Will I still accept and treat the foreign land as my own while I yearn for the touch of my home soil and the warm earthy aroma of spirituality that perfumes its every corner?

Will I ever truly be able to become a citizen of a foreign land when my colour, appearance, accent, and subtle habits will always be Indian?

Will I ever truly be able to fall in love with a foreign land, when all my life I have been a faithful lover of my country?

If I ever have to leave this country, will I ever be able to cry tears of pride on this day again?

- gargi

{ it's such an emotional independence day for me idek why. }

[apriltypes]

Can we go out ??

Yeah sure..wait..no.. I can't actually..

Why??? It's Independence Day..we have to go out and celebrate..

Yeah..well.."India" got Freedom.. Not "Me"!!

I still won't get permission from my parents.😢

Anyway...Happy Independence Day Y'all <3

[coolbud13]

Rise, Woman, Rise

She walks with fire, she stands with grace,Breaking barriers, she carves her space.No chains can bind, no voice can still,A woman empowered bends to no will. She pens her fate with hands so strong,No longer waiting, she writes her song.From boardroom walls to bustling street,Her dreams take flight, her soul runs free. No longer bound by fear or doubt,She builds her wealth, she figures it…