When I'm Killed

Related poetry:

1. The Man He Killed Had he and I but met By some old ancient inn, We should have set us down to wet Right many a nipperkin! But ranged as infantry, And staring face to face, I shot at him as he at me, And killed him in his place. I shot him dead because Because he was my […]...
2. The Place of the Damned All folks who pretend to religion and grace, Allow there’s a HELL, but dispute of the place: But, if HELL may by logical rules be defined The place of the damned – I’ll tell you my mind. Wherever the damned do chiefly abound, Most certainly there is HELL to be found: Damned poets, damned critics, […]...
3. Whats The Use Of A Title? They dont make it The beautiful die in flame – Sucide pills, rat poison, rope what – Ever… They rip their arms off, Throw themselves out of windows, They pull their eyes out of the sockets, Reject love Reject hate Reject, reject. They do’nt make it The beautiful can’t endure, They are butterflies They are […]...
4. Among Those Killed In The Dawn Raid Was A Man Aged A Hundred When the morning was waking over the war He put on his clothes and stepped out and he died, The locks yawned loose and a blast blew them wide, He dropped where he loved on the burst pavement stone And the funeral grains of the slaughtered floor. Tell his street on its back he stopped […]...
5. Cotton Song Come, brother, come. Lets lift it; Come now, hewit! roll away! Shackles fall upon the Judgment Day But lets not wait for it. God’s body’s got a soul, Bodies like to roll the soul, Cant blame God if we dont roll, Come, brother, roll, roll! Cotton bales are the fleecy way, Weary sinner’s bare feet […]...
6. Lines Written During A Period Of Insanity Hatred and vengence-my eternal portion Scarce can endure delay of execution – Wait with impatient readiness to seize my Soul in a moment. Damned below Judas; more abhorred than he was, Who for a few pence sold his holy Master! Twice betrayed, Jesus me, the last delinquent, Deems the profanest. Man disavows, and Deity disowns […]...
7. Hatred and vengeance, my eternal portion Hatred and vengeance, my eternal portion, Scarce can endure delay of execution, Wait, with impatient readiness, to seize my Soul in a moment. Damned below Judas:more abhorred than he was, Who for a few pence sold his holy Master. Twice betrayed Jesus me, this last delinquent, Deems the profanest. Man disavows, and Deity disowns me: […]...
8. The Man From Cook's “You’re bloody right – I was a Red,” The Man from Cook’s morosely said. And if our chaps had won the War Today I’d be the Governor Of all Madrid, and rule with pride, Instead of just a lousy guide. “For I could talk in Councils high To draw down angels from the sky. They […]...
9. Bookshelf I like to think that when I fall, A rain-drop in Death’s shoreless sea, This shelf of books along the wall, Beside my bed, will mourn for me. Regard it. . . . Aye, my taste is queer. Some of my bards you may disdain. Shakespeare and Milton are not here; Shelly and Keats you […]...
10. Cavalier Tunes: Give a Rouse King Charles, and who’ll do him right now? King Charles, and who’s ripe for fight now? Give a rouse: here’s, in Hell’s despite now, King Charles! Who gave me the goods that went since? Who raised me the house that sank once? Who helped me to gold I spent since? Who found me in wine […]...
11. To A Young Poet Who Killed Himself When you had played with life a space And made it drink and lust and sing, You flung it back into God’s face And thought you did a noble thing. “Lo, I have lived and loved,” you said, “And sung to fools too dull to hear me. Now for a cool and grassy bed With […]...
12. Hatred of Sin Holy Lord God! I love Thy truth, Nor dare Thy least commandment slight; Yet pierced by sin the serpent’s tooth, I mourn the anguish of the bite. But though the poison lurks within, Hope bids me still with patience wait; Till death shall set me free from sin, Free from the only thing I hate. […]...
13. Small Frogs Killed On The Highway Still, I would leap too Into the light, If I had the chance. It is everything, the wet green stalk of the field On the other side of the road. They crouch there, too, faltering in terror And take strange wing. Many Of the dead never moved, but many Of the dead are alive forever […]...
14. Gentlmen-Rankers To the legion of the lost ones, to the cohort of the damned, To my brethren in their sorrow overseas, Sings a gentleman of England cleanly bred, machinely crammed, And a trooper of the Empress, if you please. Yea, a trooper of the forces who has run his own six horses, And faith he went […]...
15. Dream Song 111: I miss him. When I get back to camp I miss him. When I get back to camp I’ll dig him up. Well, he can prop & watch, Can’t he, pink or blue, And I will talk to him. I miss him. Slams, Grand or any, aren’t for the tundra much. One face-card will do. It’s marvellous how four sit down—beyond My thought how […]...
16. Ninon De Lenclos, On Her Last Birthday So let me have the rouge again, And comb my hair the curly way. The poor young men, the dear young men They’ll all be here by noon today. And I shall wear the blue, I think- They beg to touch its rippled lace; Or do they love me best in pink, So sweetly flattering […]...
17. Glory Of Women You love us when we’re heroes, home on leave, Or wounded in a mentionable place. You worship decorations; you believe That chivalry redeems the war’s disgrace. You make us shells. You listen with delight, By tales of dirt and danger fondly thrilled. You crown our distant ardours while we fight, And mourn our laurelled memories […]...
18. Hymn 44 Hell; or, The vengeance of God. With holy fear and humble song, The dreadful God our souls adore; Rev’rence and awe become the tongue That speaks the terrors of his power. Far in the deep where darkness dwells, The land of horror and despair, Justice has built a dismal hell, And laid her stores of […]...
19. Le Gout du Néant Morne esprit, autrefois amoureux de la lutte, L’Espoir, dont l’éperon attisait ton ardeur, Ne veut plus t’enfourcher! Couche-toi sans pudeur, Vieux cheval dont le pied à chaque obstacle bute. Résigne-toi, mon coeur; dors ton sommeil de brute. Esprit vaincu, fourbu! Pour toi, vieux maraudeur, L’amour n’a plus de gout, non plus que la dispute; Adieu […]...
20. Rosie Roberts I was sick, but more than that, I was mad At the crooked police, and the crooked game of life. So I wrote to the Chief of Police at Peoria: “I am here in my girlhood home in Spoon River, Gradually wasting away. But come and take me, I killed the son Of the merchant […]...
21. The Argument Of His Book I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers, Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers. I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes. I write of youth, of love, and have access By these to sing of cleanly wantonness. I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by […]...
22. Dream Song 135: I heard said 'Cats that walk by their wild lone&#039 I heard said ‘Cats that walk by their wild lone’ But Henry had need of friends. They disappeared Shall I follow my dream? Clothes disappeared in a backward sliding, zones Shot into view, pocked, exact & weird: Who is what he seem? I will tell you now a story about Speck: After other cuts, he […]...
23. Enemies He stood alone in some queer sunless place Where Armageddon ends. Perhaps he longed For days he might have lived; but his young face Gazed forth untroubled: and suddenly there thronged Round him the hulking Germans that I shot When for his death my brooding rage was hot. He stared at them, half-wondering; and then […]...
24. The Immortals I killed them, but they would not die. Yea! all the day and all the night For them I could not rest or sleep, Nor guard from them nor hide in flight. Then in my agony I turned And made my hands red in their gore. In vain – for faster than I slew They […]...
25. Room 4: The Painter Chap He gives me such a bold and curious look, That young American across the way, As if he’d like to put me in a book (Fancies himself a poet, so they say.) Ah well! He’ll make no “document” of me. I lock my door. Ha! ha! Now none shall see. . . . Pictures, just […]...
26. A Whispered Tale I’d heard fool-heroes brag of where they’d been, With stories of the glories that they’d seen. But you, good simple soldier, seasoned well In woods and posts and crater-lines of hell, Who dodge remembered ‘crumps’ with wry grimace, Endured experience in your queer, kind face, Fatigues and vigils haunting nerve-strained eyes, And both your brothers […]...
27. John Keats Who killed John Keats? ‘I,’ says the Quarterly, So savage and Tartarly; ”Twas one of my feats.’ Who shot the arrow? ‘The poet-priest Milman (So ready to kill man), Or Southey or Barrow.’...
28. The Sunken Crown Nothing will hold him longer-let him go; Let him go down where others have gone down; Little he cares whether we smile or frown, Or if we know, or if we think we know. The call is on him for his overthrow, Say we; so let him rise, or let him drown. Poor fool! He […]...
29. First Sight Lambs that learn to walk in snow When their bleating clouds the air Meet a vast unwelcome, know Nothing but a sunless glare. Newly stumbling to and fro All they find, outside the fold, Is a wretched width of cold. As they wait beside the ewe, Her fleeces wetly caked, there lies Hidden round them, […]...
30. An Old Story (Retold in Rhyme) They threw him in a prison cell; He moaned upon his bed. And when he crept from coils of hell: “Last night you killed,” they said. “last night in drunken rage you slew A being brave with breath; A radiant soul, because of you Lies dark in death.” “last night I killed,” […]...
31. Security Young man, gather gold and gear, They will wear you well; You can thumb your nose at fear, Wish the horde in hell. With the haughty you can be Insolent and bold: Young man, if you would be free Gather gear and gold. Mellow man o middle age, Buy a little farm; Then let revolution […]...
32. Young Fellow My Lad “Where are you going, Young Fellow My Lad, On this glittering morn of May?” “I’m going to join the Colours, Dad; They’re looking for men, they say.” “But you’re only a boy, Young Fellow My Lad; You aren’t obliged to go.” “I’m seventeen and a quarter, Dad, And ever so strong, you know.” * * […]...
33. 54. Man was made to Mourn: A Dirge WHEN chill November’s surly blast Made fields and forests bare, One ev’ning, as I wander’d forth Along the banks of Ayr, I spied a man, whose aged step Seem’d weary, worn with care; His face furrow’d o’er with years, And hoary was his hair. “Young stranger, whither wand’rest thou?” Began the rev’rend sage; “Does thirst […]...
34. The Good Man in Hell If a good man were ever housed in Hell By needful error of the qualities, Perhaps to prove the rule or shame the devil, Or speak the truth only a stranger sees, Would he, surrendering quick to obvious hate, Fill half eternity with cries and tears, Or watch beside Hell’s little wicket gate In patience […]...
35. Ballade To Our Lady WRITTEN FOR HIS MOTHER Dame du ciel, regents terrienne, Emperiere des infemaux palus…. Lady of Heaven and earth, and therewithal Crowned Empress of the nether clefts of Hell,- I, thy poor Christian, on thy name do call, Commending me to thee, with thee to dwell, Albeit in nought I be commendable. But all mine undeserving […]...
36. Chamfort THERE’S Chamfort. He’s a sample. Locked himself in his library with a gun, Shot off his nose and shot out his right eye. And this Chamfort knew how to write And thousands read his books on how to live, But he himself didn’t know How to die by force of his own hand see? They […]...
37. At Cheyenne Young Lochinvar came in from the West, With fringe on his trousers and fur on his vest; The width of his hat-brim could nowhere be beat, His No. Brogans were chuck full of feet, His girdle was horrent with pistols and things, And he flourished a handful of aces on kings. The fair Mariana sate […]...
38. The Trifler Death’s the lover that I’d be taking; Wild and fickle and fierce is he. Small’s his care if my heart be breaking- Gay young Death would have none of me. Hear them clack of my haste to greet him! No one other my mouth had kissed. I had dressed me in silk to meet him- […]...
39. Psalm 9 part 2 v.12 C. M. The wisdom and equity of Providence. When the great Judge, supreme and just, Shall once inquire for blood, The humble souls that mourn in dust Shall find a faithful God. He from the dreadful gates of death Does his own children raise; In Zion’s gates, with cheerful breath, They sing their Father’s […]...
40. The Reveille Trumpets of the Lancer Corps Sound a loud reveille; Sound it over Sydney shore, Send the message far and wide Down the Richmond River side. Boot and Saddle, mount and ride, Sound a loud reveille. Whither go ye, Lancers gay, With your bold reveille? O’er the ocean far away From your sunny southern home, Over […]...