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 A place for poems

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fatalitywolf
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PostSubject: A place for poems   Tue Jan 06, 2009 5:02 pm

Halfe–Caste by John Agard

Excuse me
standing on one leg
I'm half-caste



Explain yuself
wha yu mean
when yu say half-caste
yu mean when picasso
mix red an green
is a half-caste canvas/
explain yuself
wha u mean
when yu say half-caste
yu mean when light an shadow
mix in de sky
is a half-caste weather/
well in dat case
england weather
nearly always half-caste
in fact some o dem cloud
half-caste till dem overcast
so spiteful dem dont want de sun pass
ah rass/

explain yuself
wha yu mean
when yu say half-caste
yu mean tchaikovsky
sit down at dah piano
an mix a black key
wid a white key
is a half-caste symphony/



Explain yuself
wha yu mean
Ah listening to yu wid de keen
half of mih ear
Ah looking at u wid de keen
half of mih eye
and when I'm introduced to yu
I'm sure you'll understand
why I offer yu half-a-hand
an when I sleep at night
I close half-a-eye
consequently when I dream
I dream half-a-dream
an when moon begin to glow
I half-caste human being
cast half-a-shadow
but yu come back tomorrow
wid de whole of yu eye
an de whole of yu ear
and de whole of yu mind

an I will tell yu
de other half
of my story


John Agard

i like this poem i oing to do some work on it for my gcse english
this topic is for peoms DO NOT HIJACK! post ur own one or other u have found i like poems i like war poems the best.

here is one from the falklands war


No heroes


    There were no heroes here
    Amongst the men who tramped through
    Rutted, quaking moor,
    Or crawled, cat-silent,
    Over skittering scree
    To prove the way.

    No heroes fought the blazing fires
    Which sucked the very blood from
    Ship and man alike.
    Or braved knife cold
    Without a thought
    To save a life.

    No heroes they, but ones who loved
    Sweet life and children's laugh,
    And dreamt of home
    When war allowed.
    They were but men.

David Morgan


if u did not right it plz leave the name or the person who did
in this topic u are aloud mutilpy post of poems


Last edited by fatalitywolf on Wed Jan 07, 2009 12:52 pm; edited 3 times in total
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fatalitywolf
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PostSubject: Re: A place for poems   Tue Jan 06, 2009 5:07 pm

Simplify Me When I'm Dead


    Remember me when I am dead
    and simplify me when I'm dead.


    As the processes of earth
    strip off the colour of the skin:
    take the brown hair and blue eye


    and leave me simpler than at birth,
    when hairless I came howling in
    as the moon entered the cold sky.


    Of my skeleton perhaps,
    so stripped, a learned man will say
    "He was of such a type and intelligence," no more.


    Thus when in a year collapse
    particular memories, you may
    deduce, from the long pain I bore


    the opinions I held, who was my foe
    and what I left, even my appearance
    but incidents will be no guide.


    Time's wrong-way telescope will show
    a minute man ten years hence
    and by distance simplified.


    Through that lens see if I seem
    substance or nothing: of the world
    deserving mention or charitable oblivion,


    not by momentary spleen
    or love into decision hurled,
    leisurely arrive at an opinion.


    Remember me when I am dead
    and simplify me when I'm dead.


Keith Douglas
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fatalitywolf
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PostSubject: Re: A place for poems   Tue Jan 06, 2009 5:26 pm

A Song of Winter Weather


    It isn't the foe that we fear;
    It isn't the bullets that whine;
    It isn't the business career
    Of a shell, or the bust of a mine;
    It isn't the snipers who seek
    To nip our young hopes in the bud:
    No, it isn't the guns,
    And it isn't the Huns -
    It's the MUD, MUD, MUD.



    It isn't the melee we mind.
    That often is rather good fun.
    It isn't the shrapnel we find
    Obtrusive when rained by the ton;
    It isn't the bounce of the bombs
    That gives us a positive pain:
    It's the strafing we get
    When the weather is wet -
    It's the RAIN, RAIN, RAIN.



    It isn't because we lack grit
    We shrink from the horrors of war.
    We don't mind the battle a bit;
    In fact that is what we are for;
    It isn't the rum-jars and things
    Make us wish we were back in the fold:
    It's the fingers that freeze
    In the boreal breeze -
    It's the COLD, COLD, COLD.



    Oh, the rain, the mud, and the cold,
    The cold, the mud, and the rain;
    With weather at zero it's hard for a hero
    From language that's rude to refrain.
    With porridgy muck to the knees,
    With sky that's a-pouring a flood,
    Sure the worst of our foes
    Are the pains and the woes
    Of the RAIN, the COLD, and the MUD.


Robert W. Service

ive added couler here dont know why just felt like a good idear
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fatalitywolf
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PostSubject: Re: A place for poems   Tue Jan 06, 2009 5:28 pm

Resurrection


    Not long did we lie on the torn, red field of pain.
    We fell, we lay, we slumbered, we took rest,
    With the wild nerves quiet at last, and the vexed brain
    Cleared of the wingèd nightmares, and the breast
    Freed of the heavy dreams of hearts afar.
    We rose at last under the morning star.
    We rose, and greeted our brothers, and welcomed our foes.
    We rose; like the wheat when the wind is over, we rose.
    With shouts we rose, with gasps and incredulous cries,
    With bursts of singing, and silence, and awestruck eyes,
    With broken laughter, half tears, we rose from the sod,
    With welling tears and with glad lips, whispering, "God."
    Like babes, refreshed from sleep, like children, we rose,
    Brimming with deep content, from our dreamless repose.
    And, "What do you call it?" asked one. "I thought I was dead."
    "You are," cried another. "We're all of us dead and flat."
    "I'm alive as a cricket. There's something wrong with your head."
    They stretched their limbs and argued it out where they sat.
    And over the wide field friend and foe
    Spoke of small things, remembering not old woe
    Of war and hunger, hatred and fierce words.
    They sat and listened to the brooks and birds,
    And watched the starlight perish in pale flame
    Wondering what God would look like when He came.


Hermann Hagedorn
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LateGoodBye
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PostSubject: Re: A place for poems   Tue Jan 06, 2009 5:47 pm

Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds the blow, I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain, I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush, I am in the graceful rush of birds in circling flight.
I am the star shine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom.
I am in a quiet room, I am in the birds that sing, I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there... I did not die

this song goes with the Peom

[url=][/url]
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fatalitywolf
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PostSubject: Re: A place for poems   Wed Jan 07, 2009 11:50 am

The Messages


    "I cannot quite remember... There were five
    Dropt dead beside me in the trench - and three
    Whispered their last messages to me..."



    Back from the trenches, more dead than alive,
    Stone-deaf and dazed, and with a broken knee,
    He hobbled slowly, muttering vacantly:


    "I cannot quite remember... There were five
    Dropt dead beside me in the trench, and three
    Whispered their dying messages to me...



    "Their friends are waiting, wondering how they thrive -
    Waiting a word in silence patiently...
    But what they said, or who their friends may be



    "I cannot quite remember... There where five
    Dropt dead beside me in the trench - and three
    Whispered their dying messages to me..."


Wilfrid Wilson Gibson
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fatalitywolf
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PostSubject: Re: A place for poems   Wed Jan 07, 2009 11:54 am

To A Conscript Of 1940


    A soldier passed me in the freshly fallen snow,
    His footsteps muffled, his face unearthly grey:
    And my heart gave a sudden leap
    As I gazed on a ghost of five-and-twenty years ago.



    I shouted Halt! and my voice had the old accustom'd ring
    And he obeyed it as it was obeyed
    In the shrouded days when I too was one



    Into the unknown. He turned towards me and I said:
    `I am one of those who went before you
    Five-and-twenty years ago: one of the many who never returned,
    Of the many who returned and yet were dead.



    We went where you are going, into the rain and the mud:
    We fought as you will fight
    With death and darkness and despair;
    We gave what you will give-our brains and our blood.



    We think we gave in vain. The world was not renewed.
    There was hope in the homestead and anger in the streets,
    But the old world was restored and we returned
    To the dreary field and workshop, and the immemorial feud



    Of rich and poor. Our victory was our defeat.
    Power was retained where power had been misused
    And youth was left to sweep away
    The ashes that the fires had strewn beneath our feet.



    But one thing we learned: there is no glory in the dead
    Until the soldier wears a badge of tarnish'd braid;
    There are heroes who have heard the rally and have seen
    The glitter of garland round their head.



    Theirs is the hollow victory. They are deceived.
    But you my brother and my ghost, if you can go
    Knowing that there is no reward, no certain use
    In all your sacrifice, then honour is reprieved.



    To fight without hope is to fight with grace,
    The self reconstructed, the false heart repaired.'
    Then I turned with a smile, and he answered my salute
    As he stood against the fretted hedge, which was like white lace.


Herbert Read
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fatalitywolf
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PostSubject: Re: A place for poems   Wed Jan 07, 2009 11:56 am

one other person got the idear u can post ur veiws on the poems that are posted feel free to post poems and ur view on poems that been posted
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PostSubject: Re: A place for poems   Wed Jan 07, 2009 12:04 pm

A bald eagle sleeps within a swaying tree,
its bright eyes shed tears because it longs for its beloved.

Were not truly howling at the moon,
but our hopeless feelings make it seem that way.

Why dose the Wolf's cry sound so sorrowful?
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PostSubject: Re: A place for poems   Wed Jan 07, 2009 1:37 pm

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 when we're killed.

    You can't believe that British troops 'retire'
    When hell's last horror breaks them, and they run,
    Trampling the terrible corpses-blind with blood.
    O German mother dreaming by the fire,
    While you are knitting socks to send your son
    His face is trodden deeper in the mud.


Siegfried Sassoon
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PostSubject: Re: A place for poems   Thu Jan 15, 2009 12:03 pm

well then. I guess ill help
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PostSubject: Re: A place for poems   Thu Jan 15, 2009 12:11 pm

Untamed Fury


The power of this untamed fury,
Its strength in this raging tempest,
Its chaos creating this dark tide,
The betrayal it manifests,
The sacrifice hidden in its shadows,
An inferno brought by its passion,
The herecy pumping through it,
It leaves a maelstrom of uncertainty,
It leaves a path of destruction,
Distrust consuming all it touches,
Exile left for those enshrouded by it,
Rage flowing like a storm,
Fire rising from its finger tips,
Nothing but pain left in its wake,
Nothing but despair left to account for,
Is such power worth such destruction?
If victory is garanteed?
To break the chains that hold you,
Simply to have them leave another traped.
For the dark, the answer requires no thought,
For the light, fog covers the answer in gray.



Based on a character I created. Hope you liked it.
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fatalitywolf
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PostSubject: Re: A place for poems   Fri Jan 23, 2009 1:04 pm

nice could some one move the topic to poems
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PostSubject: Re: A place for poems   Fri Jan 23, 2009 5:45 pm

I'm going to shortly...
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PostSubject: Re: A place for poems   Sat Jan 24, 2009 12:47 am

...Lmfao...
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NEMIZIS
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PostSubject: Re: A place for poems   Fri Apr 16, 2010 3:13 pm

ya write alot i get lazy about readying all that
but steel nc poems
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