My Mom . . . the brave few May 11 2007

My Mom . . . the brave few May 11 2007


Reprint from May 1, 2007 . . .

A Dedication to all moms everywhere . . . Happy moms day.

Everyone has someone that has made the greatest impact on their life . . . My mom was that person for me. She is no longer on this earth. She died over five years ago. Everyone says that you’ll get over it. The truth, you never do.

My mom was my spiritual guide in this life. She taught me how to be the best I can. And when no one else was there for me she was. She supported my writing, when every one except my wife deserted me.

Let me tell you about moms . . . They move heaven and earth for their children. And even if their kid was a mass murderer, they would still love them, and they should.

Remember my Foxhole survey, in What’s with the 300?

Whats with the 300, Fox hole survey

Well mothers become soldiers when it concerns their children . . . If their child ran into the road, they would throw themselves in front of a car, to save them. They would put themselves between any danger and their children . . . That’s why you . . . Never come between a mother bear and her cub.

My hero is my mom . . . When she was alive, she had cataract surgery. The doctors messed up; they had to take out the lens of one eye. Just to see each morning she had to put in her contact. And I don’t know if she could see . . . She never really said. But you know, she could have sued and she didn’t . . . She wouldn’t, that was not her.

And you know something, when we die, that’s when everyone else sees us for the first time . . . They learn how well we lived . . . It’s in those that come to see us off, to see us on our way. It’s in those we touched along our path . . . My mom had hundreds of friends . . . And I didn’t know, but then again . . . That wasn’t her way.

Thanks mom, thanks for everything.

Love you, always.

Your son, a writer.

Dan Hanosh
Dreams are yours to Share

My Books: The World Outside My Window, AuthorHouse, 2004
Soon to come, Sleepless Nights

Links: Dreams Are Yours To Share
Warriors and Wars
dhanosh writingup
Dan Hanosh poemhunter.com
Dan’s Room 2 Write


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A Cry From Andersonville Prison

A Cry From Andersonville Prison By William Comfort


When our country called for men we came from forge and hill,
From workshop, farm and factory the broken ranks to fill,
We left our quiet happy home and those we loved so well,
To vanquish all our Union foes or fall where others fell.
But now in prison drear we languish and ‘tis our constant cry,
Oh ye who yet can save us . . . will you leave us her to die?

Did the voice of slander tell ye that our hearts were weak with fear?
That all, or nearly all, of us were captured in the rear?
But the scars upon our bodies from the musket ball and shell,
The missing legs and shattered arms a truer tale will tell;
We have tried to do our duty in the sight of God on high,
And ye who can yet save us now leave us here to die.

There are hearts with hope still beating in our “Northern Homes”
Watching, waiting for the footsteps that will never come.
In “Southern prisons” pining, meager, tattered, pale and gaunt,
Growing weaker, weaker daily from pinching cold and want –
Are husbands, sons and brothers who hopeless captives lie,
And ye who yet can save us – Will you leave us here to die?

From out our prison gate there’s a graveyard close at hand,
Where lay fourteen thousand Union men beneath a Southern sand,
And scores are laid beside them as day succeeds each day,
And thus it shall be until we all shall pass away;
And the last can say while dying with upturned glazing eye,
Both faith and love are dead at home and they’ve left us here to die.

Civil War Poetry . . .

Dan Hanosh
Dreams are yours to Share

My Books: The World Outside My Window, AuthorHouse, 2004
Soon to come, Sleepless Nights

Links: Dreams Are Yours To Share
Warriors and Wars
The Moon Also Rises
dhanosh writingup
Dan Hanosh poemhunter.com
Dan’s Room 2 Write

Copyright © 2007 by Dan Hanosh. All rights reserved.

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The Unknown Soldiers - Remember the brave few

The Unknown Soldiers – Remember the brave few





In a field somewhere anywhere a worker works, digging up the fallen soldiers. It could be from any war, in any country, from any time. And still soldiers fall . . .



From the battle of Thermopylae where the remains of the 300 have been uncovered . . .





Or Germany where this story comes from, the second World War and the bodies are mostly German soldiers, never recovered.



A man Erwin Kowalke once dug a complete plane out of a swamp, pilot still at the controls. *



”The dead deserve a bit of honor.”



Gets you to thinking . . . Dog tags, remains, what’s in those caskets? Flag draped and unreported, unacknowledged, no heroes welcome for the fallen . . . Not by this President . . . And maybe not by any?



Have you been to Arlington National Cemetary?



You should see the changing of the guard in front of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and feel the honor. Those that guard the tomb, would gladly die fighting for them. Honor is alive in America . . .



Dan Hanosh

Dreams are yours to Share



* Taken from latimes.com, Search for the fallen in a now-quiet forest, by Jeffery Fleishman



My Books: The World Outside My Window, AuthorHouse, 2004

Soon to come, Sleepless Nights



Links: Dreams Are Yours To Share

Warriors and Wars

dhanosh writingup

Dan Hanosh poemhunter.com

Dan’s Room 2 Write



Copyright © 2007 by Dan Hanosh. All rights reserved.



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Whats in a name May 2 2007

What’s in a name May 2 2007?





What’s in a name? They’re used to define us. Give us uniqueness, a feature no two alike. And yet we all know that names are alike. But the way we use them, it seems to be ok.



But what’s in a name, that’s engraved on a wall? For these names represent one and all. We don’t mean to mistakenly present them and in most cases a name on a wall means this individual has given his all.



And what’s in a name on list? These individuals are uniquely the same for each has been listed by their surname with some quality common to all.



And what’s in a name on a book? These individuals stand out among the rest for they have experience more than us all. Though how could one name mean any more than another?



What with each of these names, Martin Luther, John, Abraham, Diana, Saul, Mahatma, Teddy, Teresa, Alexander, Solomon, Cleo, Julius, Leonidas, Adolf, Osama, Katrina, Wisconsin, New Mexico?



Names mean so many things. It’s surprising we can discern which is which . . .





Dan Hanosh

Dreams are yours to Share



My Books: The World Outside My Window, AuthorHouse, 2004

Soon to come, Sleepless Nights



Links: Dreams Are Yours To Share

Warriors and Wars

dhanosh writingup

Dan Hanosh poemhunter.com

Dan’s Room 2 Write





Copyright © 2007 by Dan Hanosh. All rights reserved.



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My Mom . . . the brave few May 1 2007

My Mom . . . the brave few May 1 2007


A Dedication to all moms everywhere . . . Happy moms day.

Everyone has someone that has made the greatest impact on their life . . . My mom was that person for me. She is no longer on this earth. She died over five years ago. Everyone says that you’ll get over it. The truth, you never do.

My mom was my spiritual guide in this life. She taught me how to be the best I can. And when no one else was there for me she was. She supported my writing, when every one except my wife deserted me.

Let me tell you about moms . . . They move heaven and earth for their children. And even if their kid was a mass murderer, they would still love them, and they should.

Remember my Foxhole survey, in What’s with the 300?

Whats with the 300, Fox hole survey

Well mothers become soldiers when it concerns their children . . . If their child ran into the road, they would throw themselves in front of a car, to save them. They would put themselves between any danger and their children . . . That’s why you . . . Never come between a mother bear and her cub.

My hero is my mom . . . When she was alive, she had cataract surgery. The doctors messed up; they had to take out the lens of one eye. Just to see each morning she had to put in her contact. And I don’t know if she could see . . . She never really said. But you know, she could have sued and she didn’t . . . She wouldn’t, that was not her.

And you know something, when we die, that’s when everyone else sees us for the first time . . . They learn how well we lived . . . It’s in those that come to see us off, to see us on our way. It’s in those we touched along our path . . . My mom had hundreds of friends . . . And I didn’t know, but then again . . . That wasn’t her way.

Thanks mom, thanks for everything.

Love you, always.

Your son, a writer.

Dan Hanosh
Dreams are yours to Share

My Books: The World Outside My Window, AuthorHouse, 2004
Soon to come, Sleepless Nights

Links: Dreams Are Yours To Share
Warriors and Wars
dhanosh writingup
Dan Hanosh poemhunter.com
Dan’s Room 2 Write


Technorati Tags: Warriors and wars Dan Hanosh, thebravefew, Dan Hanosh, Dan Hanosh’s writing, Sleeplessnights, The-world-outside-my-window, brave, dedication, moms day, my mom Dan Hanosh

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