Any poetry? (nothing stupid!)

Discussion in 'Poetry Corner' started by pull2eject, Nov 28, 2008.

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  1. Shall we start a poets thread? :?
    Would be great to hear some meaningful ones not silly stuff though.

    Through Enemies Eyes.

    Leave me broken my body shattered and cold, and though I can no longer see and my breath is no more,
    I have seen through the eyes of my enemy,and I have breathed his last breath.
    Their blood has run from my veins,and their flesh torn limbs hang limp by my side,
    their pain was mine and I shall no longer hurt for my pain is shared.
    I have marched their final mile and can still taste their last meal on my lips, for I am his enemy and he is mine.
    In life we were divided and in death we are as one,
    soldiers, warriors,enemies,
    The Fallen.

    I blame mr jack daniels..
  2. "We are the Pilgrims, master; we shall go
    Always a little further: it may be
    Beyond the last blue mountain barred with snow,
    Across that angry or that glimmering sea,
    White on a throne or guarded in a cave
    There lives a prophet who can understand
    Why men were born: but surely we are brave,
    Who make the Golden Journey to Samarkand."[align=justify]
  3. I wore a cabbage for a hat. It covered a bald patch
    and broke the ice when I met people. Aphids were
    attracted to me. They held parties in my hair, and
    danced to my twanging metal comb when it got
    stuck in the knots.

    My head always itched when I put the car heater on,
    which made me twitch to the left and sent me south
    bound down the M1. The journey helped me relax and
    concentrate on my new theory of evolution. Sometimes
    a rotten pumpkin patch would force the aphids to make
    me turn right.

    They all learnt to speak, and started to call me their
    God. But recently I had become fed up with the noise.
    So I decided to stick my head into garden ponds and
    become the first human underwater fish feeder. People
    now pay to see my ginger gold fish hair in sushi bars.
  4. Got this today from a friend today.....damm grit :D

    A Different Christmas Poem

    The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
    I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
    My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
    My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
    Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
    Transforming the garden to a winter delight.

    The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
    Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
    My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
    Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
    In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
    So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

    The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
    But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
    Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
    sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
    My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
    And I crept to the door just to see who was near.

    Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
    A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
    A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
    Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
    Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
    Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.

    "What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
    "Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
    Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
    You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
    For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
    Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..

    To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
    Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,
    I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night."
    "It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
    That separates you from the darkest of times.

    No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
    I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
    My Grandfather died in France ' on a day in December,"
    Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gran always remembers."
    My dad stood his watch in the jungles of Burma
    And now it is my turn and so, here I am.

    I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
    But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.
    Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
    The red, white, and blue... a Union flag.
    I can live through the cold and the being alone,
    Away from my family, my house and my home.

    I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
    I can sleep in a trench with little to eat.
    I can carry the weight of killing another,
    Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
    Who stand at the front against any and all,
    To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."

    " So go back inside," he said, "harbour no fright,
    Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
    "But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
    "Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
    It seems all too little for all that you've done,
    For being away from your wife and your son."

    Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
    "Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
    To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
    To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
    For when we come home, either standing or dead,
    To know you remember we fought and we bled.
    Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
    That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."

    PLEASE, would you do me the kind favour of sending this to as many
    people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our
    Armed Service men and women for our being able to celebrate these
    festivities. Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make people
    stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.

    Chris Smith
    Royal Marine Ret
  5. Your Leaflets

    Did you think they could crush
    Krupp's arms, or stop
    a Panzer in its tracks, or keep
    the trains from running to Bergen-Belsen?

    They only burned
  6. Roses are Red,
    Violets are blue.....
    This poem should rhyme
    it doesn't.
  7. If we're going for romance should it not be......

    Roses are red,
    Voilets are blue,
    I'm crap with poems
    So nice tits.

  8. On a serious note i recall:

    When the Nazis came for the communists,
    I remained silent;
    I was not a communist.

    When they locked up the social democrats,
    I remained silent;
    I was not a social democrat.

    When they came for the trade unionists,
    I did not speak out;
    I was not a trade unionist.

    When they came for the Jews,
    I remained silent;
    I was not a Jew.

    When they came for me,
    there was no one left to speak out.
  9. I did post this around rememberance time originally:

    Uncle Jack

    I was thinking about a relative of mine who died in WW1, dont know why but felt a urge to write a few words on him and it sort of became a poem:

    Uncle Jack

    I never knew you, Great Uncle Jack; you went off to war,
    But didn’t come back.
    It was nearly Christmas, in nineteen seventeen,
    Of home and family, you and your friends must have dreamed.

    In the night you gave your life, making the ultimate sacrifice.
    Sunk by a U-boat, in the North sea,
    Your eternal resting place, this was to be.

    I will think of you this Sunday, and all that you gave,
    Along with all the others, from the Crimea to Today,
    I will raise a glass, and toast to you all:
    “Thank you my heroes, your memories live on”

    Uncle Jack

    Destroyer HMS Torrent 22nd-23rd December 1917 Torpedoed by a German submarine off the Maas Lightship.
  10. on a somewhat lighter vein:

    Jacket and Shoes

    The thread is coming loose,
    on my jacket near the seam,
    It lies collapsed,
    Half on the chair,
    crumpled wine -stained and smells of nicotine.

    Brown leather shoes spread askew,
    tired laces trail across the floor,
    the seams caked in dust and mud,
    from the Street.

    Scuffed and blemished on parts,
    where there should be none.

    Thoughts, (short lived) regrets, Pen marks on my arms,
    stuttering memory all from before,
    my tongue is dry in my mouth,
    and tastes of excess and cigarette.
    I think of what was said,
    And have nothing but my Jacket and my Shoes.
  11. Arise young man and heed the call
    the sergeant he did say.
    Come join along with all your pals
    for France we are away.
    The bugles called,the drums did roll
    we marched along the street.
    The crowds they cheered and clapped us
    as we marched to wars dread beat.

    Training starts and training ends
    we're soldiers now in France we land.
    No sooner are we in the trench,
    than we can smell deaths putrid stench.
    The fear it makes my stomach clench
    i hope we're home for christmas!

    Jimmy was a friend of mine, he heard the
    call with me.
    A whizz bang went off near our trench and
    now he cannot see.
    His screams torment my thoughts and sleep
    his blindness causes me to weep
    Deaths coming for me creep creep creep
    Section watch your fronts!

    We wait and know our time will come to
    venture over the top.
    When the whistle sounds our time has come
    we dare not pause or stop.
    At last a flare lights up the sky a whistles bleep
    sounds shrill and deep.
    We pray our life and limbs to keep
    Steady boys steady!

    The mud and sludge in which we trudge
    is made up from our comrades blood.
    The screams the yells. The tale it tells
    of lives left unfulfilled.
    the lads who lay there in the mire, body's
    strewn across the wire.
    Brave pals we lost through deadly fire.
    Enemy to your front!

    Not long now till christmas day, i don't
    believe we'll get away.
    No turkey roast,no christmas pudd
    Just bully beef laced with mud.
    Ahh well it's not so bad you see because
    we've got some smokes and tea.
    For now it's just the simple things that
    mean the most to me.

    I've been o'er here for some two years
    seen things i cannot say.
    I wonder if my time will come tomorrow
    or today.
    I'm not sure how i've got this far living
    in this blood drenched war.
    Pals around me dying fast,my luck it
    surely cannot last.
    But i'll remain till the fightings done,
    until i die or victories won.
    Stand to! Stand to! Stand to!

    A rumour spread along the line,the war
    is over it's home time.
    The generals they have had their sport,
    the boys they paid the price,
    for carrying out the orders of these
    spineless mice.
    Fall out-Dismissed!

    A land that's fit for heroes is what they
    promised us.
    Work for all and homes for all. For those
    that fought but did not fall.
    A chance to see a better life for all our
    kith and kin.
    Well now we're home and nothings
    changed, save many lads are blind or lame.
    I hope they don't forget our name.....
    For we're all Tommy Atkins!!!

    Dedicated to:
    Pte Patrick Shannon..8th battalion The kings Liverpool regt (Liverpool Irish):1915-1917.
  12. This has already been done a few threads down.
  13. For the emotional......

    OUT of the night that covers me,
    Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
    I thank whatever gods may be
    For my unconquerable soul.

    In the fell clutch of circumstance
    I have not winced nor cried aloud.
    Under the bludgeonings of chance
    My head is bloody, but unbowed.

    Beyond this place of wrath and tears
    Looms but the Horror of the shade,
    And yet the menace of the years
    Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

    It matters not how strait the gate,
    How charged with punishments the scroll,
    I am the master of my fate:
    I am the captain of my soul.

    W.E. Henley