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- Nov 2, 1999
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While most in our industry only know Peter LaGana by his legacy in the American Tomahawk Company and its Vietnam Tomahawk, he is also an internationally recognized poet!!! His writings on Inspiration, Patriotism, Tales of Nature, War, Hunting, and Life in the Out-of-Doors are accessible to nearly every reader, assiduous or occasional.
His book, Poetry Everyone Can Love will soon be available through American Tomahawk Companys website, as well as that of Survival Sheath Systems. It was published in 1997.
The following verses are MOST stirring and a MUST read for any gun owner, knife/tomahawk owner, member of the Armed Services, and true-blooded American.
Please join me in celebrating Peters work and let us know your thoughts. The following poem is reprinted, with permission, in its entirety.
My Rifle and Me
By Peter S. LaGana
In the 1700s when America was young
And living was more than a trifle
I went afield in search of food
With my ever-trusty rifle.
A just cause called, and I was ready
To defend what was lifes contribution
With powder and shot,
with knife and sword
I tool park in a great revolution.
And we won, a nation was born
Where free men were truly free
Thus the freedom to roam swelled up
And west we moved, my rifle and me.
The Indians resented us white intruders
Justified they were, Im willing
To resent taking of their land, yet,
Their killing justified our killing
My trusty rifle roared in my hands
Sometimes for endless hours
As we carved new roads and frontiers
And then the West was ours.
In the wars thereafter
With tomahawk, and knife, and gun
We suffered, we fought, we died
But yet we always won.
I carried my rifle (now more modern)
In every country of this world
Its roar and deadly accuracy prevailed
Wherever Old Glory unfurled.
In France, in Italy, in Germany
In Asia, and Africa, too
In the frozen North, the steaming jungles
Wherever there was a job to do.
In Korea, and in Vietnam
Every day the year round
Wherever injustice is practiced
Me and my rifle will be found.
For we are the strength of all that is good
The closest combination one can find
We toil at preserving liberty
The ease of body and mind.
Show me an injustice to freedom
Causing a nation to despair
Show me a threat to liberty
And me and my rifle will be there.
From the Minute Men of New England
To the Antarctic and back
Wherever there is injustice to mankind
You will hear my rifle crack.
So harken, you evil connivers
Always remember this
Me and my rifle are a reliable team
And we never miss.
We cannot fail, we will win
There are nations that have tried
To bury us, to trample our rights
And they died, and died, and died.
Remember, you destroyers of life
We sell our lives very dear
We shudder not, we dont back up
We know not the meaning of fear.
Which of you will be first
To step into my sights
And die a split second later
For merely defying my rights.
Which of you seek to feel
The shock of a bullet in the spine
For trying to take what is not even yours
The things that are mine are mine!
I stand alone, or in a multitude
My rifle is loaded and ready
I shoot straight, I shoot quick
I have a hand that is steady.
At a hundred yards, or four-hundred
At fifty yards, or even five
Be sure that when I draw a bead
You will cease to be alive.
Multiply me and my rifle a thousand times
Ten thousands and even more
Add up your chances, you robbers of liberty
Count your death in the total score.
Come then, advance press your chances
Step over your comrades that have fallen
Show but an inch of yourself
And youre as dead as Hitler and Stalin.
Tho the atomic war is fought by buttons
And tanks or planes seem so small
In comparison to their destruction
The rifleman is the most important of all.
Though cities erupt and disappear
Become Ghost Towns, forsaken
Still the man with the rifle is vital
To hold what is lost, or taken.
Its one thing to conquer an area
With fire, explosion, and theft
But always, there is a rifleman
To guard whatever is left.
Oh, there is something left, I assure you
The land and the material to build
The determination of civilization to survive
These things cannot be killed.
So bomb us, if you dare
Do your damnedest
To make us disheartened
Yet heed the warning of the rifleman
The fighting is only getting started.
Youll not breathe one safe moment
If you come to claim,
youll claim your death
For we give you not even a city in rubble
Not as long as we draw breath.
We like to breathe as free people
We defy your cruelty and greed
And you will find, its your last breath
When we carefully draw a bead.
In the rubble of cities, in the towns,
From the forest, from every valley and hill
Well pick you off by the hundreds, or ones
Until your every heart is still.
America is the land of riflemen
(That includes the women, too)
We devote much time and effort
To shoot fast and true.
Our right to own and bear arms
Shall not be infringed
Ememies found this, to their despair
As in defeat, they cringed.
Try to destroy us if you dare
With man-made devices so clever
Yet our greatest weapon is the will of God
And that will survive forever.
With the will of God and His blessing
We hold what is ours, and win
Then shoulder our rifle and work
To build our world again.
We stand firm in our desire
To be as free as man can be
We uphold Gods laws, and the law of man
Strength of freedommy rifle and me.
**********
reprinted with permission, Poetry Everyone Can Love, 1998, Moutaineer-Herald
His book, Poetry Everyone Can Love will soon be available through American Tomahawk Companys website, as well as that of Survival Sheath Systems. It was published in 1997.
The following verses are MOST stirring and a MUST read for any gun owner, knife/tomahawk owner, member of the Armed Services, and true-blooded American.
Please join me in celebrating Peters work and let us know your thoughts. The following poem is reprinted, with permission, in its entirety.
My Rifle and Me
By Peter S. LaGana
In the 1700s when America was young
And living was more than a trifle
I went afield in search of food
With my ever-trusty rifle.
A just cause called, and I was ready
To defend what was lifes contribution
With powder and shot,
with knife and sword
I tool park in a great revolution.
And we won, a nation was born
Where free men were truly free
Thus the freedom to roam swelled up
And west we moved, my rifle and me.
The Indians resented us white intruders
Justified they were, Im willing
To resent taking of their land, yet,
Their killing justified our killing
My trusty rifle roared in my hands
Sometimes for endless hours
As we carved new roads and frontiers
And then the West was ours.
In the wars thereafter
With tomahawk, and knife, and gun
We suffered, we fought, we died
But yet we always won.
I carried my rifle (now more modern)
In every country of this world
Its roar and deadly accuracy prevailed
Wherever Old Glory unfurled.
In France, in Italy, in Germany
In Asia, and Africa, too
In the frozen North, the steaming jungles
Wherever there was a job to do.
In Korea, and in Vietnam
Every day the year round
Wherever injustice is practiced
Me and my rifle will be found.
For we are the strength of all that is good
The closest combination one can find
We toil at preserving liberty
The ease of body and mind.
Show me an injustice to freedom
Causing a nation to despair
Show me a threat to liberty
And me and my rifle will be there.
From the Minute Men of New England
To the Antarctic and back
Wherever there is injustice to mankind
You will hear my rifle crack.
So harken, you evil connivers
Always remember this
Me and my rifle are a reliable team
And we never miss.
We cannot fail, we will win
There are nations that have tried
To bury us, to trample our rights
And they died, and died, and died.
Remember, you destroyers of life
We sell our lives very dear
We shudder not, we dont back up
We know not the meaning of fear.
Which of you will be first
To step into my sights
And die a split second later
For merely defying my rights.
Which of you seek to feel
The shock of a bullet in the spine
For trying to take what is not even yours
The things that are mine are mine!
I stand alone, or in a multitude
My rifle is loaded and ready
I shoot straight, I shoot quick
I have a hand that is steady.
At a hundred yards, or four-hundred
At fifty yards, or even five
Be sure that when I draw a bead
You will cease to be alive.
Multiply me and my rifle a thousand times
Ten thousands and even more
Add up your chances, you robbers of liberty
Count your death in the total score.
Come then, advance press your chances
Step over your comrades that have fallen
Show but an inch of yourself
And youre as dead as Hitler and Stalin.
Tho the atomic war is fought by buttons
And tanks or planes seem so small
In comparison to their destruction
The rifleman is the most important of all.
Though cities erupt and disappear
Become Ghost Towns, forsaken
Still the man with the rifle is vital
To hold what is lost, or taken.
Its one thing to conquer an area
With fire, explosion, and theft
But always, there is a rifleman
To guard whatever is left.
Oh, there is something left, I assure you
The land and the material to build
The determination of civilization to survive
These things cannot be killed.
So bomb us, if you dare
Do your damnedest
To make us disheartened
Yet heed the warning of the rifleman
The fighting is only getting started.
Youll not breathe one safe moment
If you come to claim,
youll claim your death
For we give you not even a city in rubble
Not as long as we draw breath.
We like to breathe as free people
We defy your cruelty and greed
And you will find, its your last breath
When we carefully draw a bead.
In the rubble of cities, in the towns,
From the forest, from every valley and hill
Well pick you off by the hundreds, or ones
Until your every heart is still.
America is the land of riflemen
(That includes the women, too)
We devote much time and effort
To shoot fast and true.
Our right to own and bear arms
Shall not be infringed
Ememies found this, to their despair
As in defeat, they cringed.
Try to destroy us if you dare
With man-made devices so clever
Yet our greatest weapon is the will of God
And that will survive forever.
With the will of God and His blessing
We hold what is ours, and win
Then shoulder our rifle and work
To build our world again.
We stand firm in our desire
To be as free as man can be
We uphold Gods laws, and the law of man
Strength of freedommy rifle and me.
**********
reprinted with permission, Poetry Everyone Can Love, 1998, Moutaineer-Herald
...if you would, just redirect them here or please be sure to copy the WHOLE post, including the publishing reference.