Dulce Et Decorum Est

Related poetry:

1. Have A Nice Day ‘Help, help, ‘ said a man. ‘I’m drowning.’ ‘Hang on, ‘ said a man from the shore. ‘Help, help, ‘ said the man. ‘I’m not clowning.’ ‘Yes, I know, I heard you before. Be patient dear man who is drowning, You, see I’ve got a disease. I’m waiting for a Doctor J. Browning. So do […]...
2. Admonitions To A Special Person Watch out for power, For its avalanche can bury you, Snow, snow, snow, smothering your mountain. Watch out for hate, It can open its mouth and you’ll fling yourself out To eat off your leg, an instant leper. Watch out for friends, Because when you betray them, As you will, They will bury their heads […]...
3. The Dug-Out Why do you lie with your legs ungainly huddled, And one arm bent across your sullen, cold, Exhausted face? It hurts my heart to watch you, Deep-shadowed from the candle’s guttering gold; And you wonder why I shake you by the shoulder; Drowsy, you mumble and sigh and turn your head. . . . You […]...
4. Old Susan When Susan’s work was done, she’d sit With one fat guttering candle lit, And window opened wide to win The sweet night air to enter in; There, with a thumb to keep her place She’d read, with stern and wrinkled face. Her mild eyes gliding very slow Across the letters to and fro, While wagged […]...
5. The Sentry We’d found an old Boche dug-out, and he knew, And gave us hell, for shell on frantic shell Hammered on top, but never quite burst through. Rain, guttering down in waterfalls of slime Kept slush waist high, that rising hour by hour, Choked up the steps too thick with clay to climb. What murk of […]...
6. May Morning Deep into spring, winter is hanging on. Bitter and skillful in his Hopelessness, he stays alive in every shady place, starving along the Mediterranean: angry to see the glittering sea-pale boulder alive With lizards green as Judas leaves. Winter is hanging on. He still Believes. He tries to catch a lizard by the shoulder. One […]...
7. The Lover in Hell Eternally the choking steam goes up From the black pools of seething oil. . . . How merry Those little devils are! They’ve stolen the pitchfork From Bel, there, as he slept. . . Look! oh look, look! They’ve got at Nero! Oh it isn’t fair! Lord, how he squeals! Stop it. . . it’s, […]...
8. The Dream I have a dream To fill the golden sheath Of a remembered day…. (Air Heavy and massed and blue As the vapor of opium… Domes Fired in sulphurous mist… Sea Quiescent as a gray seal… And the emerging sun Spurting up gold Over Sydney, smoke-pale, rising out of the bay….) But the day is an […]...
9. Incantation A white well In a black cave; A bright shell In a dark wave. A white rose Black brambles hood; Smooth bright snows In a dark wood. A flung white glove In a dark fight; A white dove On a wild black night. A white door In a dark lane; A bright core To bitter […]...
10. Exmoor Lost aboard the roll of Kodac- Olor that was to have super- Seded all need to remember Somerset were: a large flock Of winter-bedcover-thick- Pelted sheep up on the moor; A stile, a church spire, And an excess, at Porlock, Of tenderly barbarous antique Thatch in tandem with flower- Beds, relentlessly pictur- Esque, along every […]...
11. Among the Red Guns After waking at dawn one morning when the wind sang Low among dry leaves in an elm AMONG the red guns, In the hearts of soldiers Running free blood In the long, long campaign: Dreams go on. Among the leather saddles, In the heads of soldiers Heavy in the wracks and kills Of all straight […]...
12. Dream Song 8: The weather was fine. They took away his teeth The weather was fine. They took away his teeth, White & helpful; bothered his backhand; Halved his green hair. They blew out his loves, his interests. ‘Underneath,’ (they called in iron voices) ‘understand, Is nothing. So there.’ The weather was very fine. They lifted off His covers till he showed, and cringed & pled To […]...
13. Thrushes Terrifying are the attent sleek thrushes on the lawn, More coiled steel than living – a poised Dark deadly eye, those delicate legs Triggered to stirrings beyond sense – with a start, a bounce, A stab Overtake the instant and drag out some writhing thing. No indolent procrastinations and no yawning states, No sighs or […]...
14. Not Waving But Drowning Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought And not waving but drowning. Poor chap, he always loved larking And now he’s dead It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way, They said. Oh, no no no, it was too […]...
15. The Gardener IV: Ah Me Ah me, why did they build my House by the road to the market Town? They moor their laden boats near My trees. They come and go and wander at Their will. I sit and watch them; my time Wears on. Turn them away I cannot. And Thus my days pass by. Night and day […]...
16. Omaha RED barns and red heifers spot the green Grass circles around Omaha-the farmers Haul tanks of cream and wagon loads of cheese. Shale hogbacks across the river at Council Bluffs-and shanties hang by an eyelash to The hill slants back around Omaha. A span of steel ties up the kin of Iowa and Nebraska across […]...
17. 438. Impromptu on Mrs. Riddell's Birthday OLD Winter, with his frosty beard, Thus once to Jove his prayer preferred: “What have I done of all the year, To bear this hated doom severe? My cheerless suns no pleasure know; Night’s horrid car drags, dreary slow; My dismal months no joys are crowning, But spleeny English hanging, drowning. “Now Jove, for once […]...
18. Sonnet 104 – A spot of poontang on a five-foot piece A spot of poontang on a five-foot piece, Diminutive, but room enough. . like clay To finger eager on some torrid day. . Who’d throw her black hair back, and hang, and tease. Never, not once in all one’s horny lease To’have had a demi-lay, a pretty, gay, Snug, slim and supple-breasted girl for play. […]...
19. Impatience How can I wait until you come to me? The once fleet mornings linger by the way; Their sunny smiles touched with malicious glee At my unrest, they seem to pause, and play Like truant children, while I sigh and say, How can I wait? How can I wait? Of old, the rapid hours Refused […]...
20. The Force That Through The Green Fuse Drives The Flower The force that through the green fuse drives the flower Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees Is my destroyer. And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose My youth is bent by the same wintry fever. The force that drives the water through the rocks Drives my red blood; that […]...
21. The Mourners I look into the aching womb of night; I look across the mist that masks the dead; The moon is tired and gives but little light, The stars have gone to bed. The earth is sick and seems to breathe with pain; A lost wind whimpers in a mangled tree; I do not see the […]...
22. A Crowded Trolley-Car The rain’s cold grains are silver-gray Sharp as golden sands, A bell is clanging, people sway Hanging by their hands. Supple hands, or gnarled and stiff, Snatch and catch and grope; That face is yellow-pale, as if The fellow swung from rope. Dull like pebbles, sharp like knives, Glances strike and glare, Fingers tangle, Bluebeard’s […]...
23. Jealousy When I see you, who were so wise and cool, Gazing with silly sickness on that fool You’ve given your love to, your adoring hands Touch his so intimately that each understands, I know, most hidden things; and when I know Your holiest dreams yield to the stupid bow Of his red lips, and that […]...
24. Now Hollow Fires Burn Out to Black Now hollow fires burn out to black, And lights are guttering low: Square your shoulders, lift your pack, And leave your friends and go. Oh never fear, man, nought’s to dread, Look not to left nor right: In all the endless road you tread There’s nothing but the night....
25. Dreams Nascent My world is a painted fresco, where coloured shapes Of old, ineffectual lives linger blurred and warm; An endless tapestry the past has women drapes The halls of my life, compelling my soul to conform. The surface of dreams is broken, The picture of the past is shaken and scattered. Fluent, active figures of men […]...
26. The Portent Hanging from the beam, Slowly swaying (such the law), Gaunt the shadow on the green, Shenandoah! The cut is on the crown (Lo, John Brown), And the stabs shall heal no more. Hidden in the cap Is the anguish none can draw; So your future veils its face, Shenandoah! But the streaming beard is shown […]...
27. After Hearing a Waltz by Bartok But why did I kill him? Why? Why? In the small, gilded room, near the stair? My ears rack and throb with his cry, And his eyes goggle under his hair, As my fingers sink into the fair White skin of his throat. It was I! I killed him! My God! Don’t you hear? I […]...
28. Tim Turpin Tim Turpin he was gravel-blind, And ne’er had seen the skies : For Nature, when his head was made, Forgot to dot his eyes. So, like a Christmas pedagogue, Poor Tim was forced to do – Look out for pupils; for he had A vacancy for two. There’s some have specs to help their sight […]...
29. Domestic Work, 1937 All week she’s cleaned Someone else’s house, Stared down her own face In the shine of copper Bottomed pots, polished Wood, toilets she’d pull The lid to that look saying Let’s make a change, girl. But Sunday mornings are hers Church clothes starched And hanging, a record spinning On the console, the whole house Dancing. […]...
30. A Dead Boche To you who’d read my songs of War And only hear of blood and fame, I’ll say (you’ve heard it said before) ВЂќWar’s Hell! ” and if you doubt the same, Today I found in Mametz Wood A certain cure for lust of blood: Where, propped against a shattered trunk, In a great mess of […]...
31. Drowning is not so pitiful Drowning is not so pitiful As the attempt to rise Three times, ’tis said, a sinking man Comes up to face the skies, And then declines forever To that abhorred abode, Where hope and he part company For he is grasped of God. The Maker’s cordial visage, However good to see, Is shunned, we must […]...
32. Sydney Cup 1899 Of course they say if this Bobadil starts He’ll settle ’em all in a flash: For the pace he can go will be breaking their hearts, And he ends with the “Bobadil dash”. But there’s one in the race is a fance of mine Whenever the distance is far Crosslake! He’s inbred to the Yattendon […]...
33. Elizabeth Catch, my Uncle Jack said And oh I caught this huge apple Red as Mrs Kelly’s bum. It’s red as Mrs Kelly’s bum, I said And Daddy roared And swung me on his stomach with a heave. Then I hid the apple in my room Till it shrunk like a face Growing eyes and teeth […]...
34. Notes For The Legend Of Salad Woman Since my wife was born She must have eaten The equivalent of two-thirds Of the original garden of Eden. Not the dripping lush fruit Or the meat in the ribs of animals But the green salad gardens of that place. The whole arena of green Would have been eradicated As if the right filter had […]...
35. Summer Dawn My sleeping children are still flying dreams In their goose-down heads. The lush of the river singing morning songs Fish watch their ceilings turn sun-white. The grey-green pike lances upstream Kale, like mermaid’s hair Points the water’s drift. All is morning hush And bird beautiful. I only, I didn’t have flu....
36. Night Fair is the wedded reign of Night and Day. Each rules a half of earth with different sway, Exchanging kingdoms, East and West, alway. Like the round pearl that Egypt drunk in wine, The sun half sinks i’ the brimming, rosy brine: The wild Night drinks all up: how her eyes shine! Now the swift […]...
37. The Death-Bed He drowsed and was aware of silence heaped Round him, unshaken as the steadfast walls; Aqueous like floating rays of amber light, Soaring and quivering in the wings of sleep. Silence and safety; and his mortal shore Lipped by the inward, moonless waves of death. Someone was holding water to his mouth. He swallowed, unresisting; […]...
38. So Many Blood-Lakes We have now won two world-wars, neither of which concerned us, we were Slipped in. We have levelled the powers Of Europe, that were the powers of the world, into rubble and Dependence. We have won two wars and a third is comming. This one will not be so easy. We were at ease while […]...
39. Never The Time And The Place Never the time and the place And the loved one all together! This path how soft to pace! This May what magic weather! Where is the loved one’s face? In a dream that loved one’s face meets mine, But the house is narrow, the place is bleak Where, outside, rain and wind combine With a […]...
40. Echo Come to me in the silence of the night; Come in the speaking silence of a dream; Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright As sunlight on a stream; Come back in tears, O memory, hope, love of finished years. O dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter sweet, Whose wakening should have […]...