Banned Users - Poetry Corner

The guns roared out that November night,
All around men still with fright.
In these trenches muddied and cold
Thoughts of our families in our soul

The Captain shouts once more over the top
Keep on Running, Never to Stop.
Death On its way to us poor young men,
Volunteers one and all way back when

Death on its way we must not cry
And over the top to surely Die.

It's a... sonnet. About World War One.

I give up, Alec. Who wrote it? Sassoon? Owen? Brooke? Tell meeeee!! :mad::eek:

Here's Sorley's "When You See Millions of the Mouthless Dead" (1915)

When you see millions of the mouthless dead
Across your dreams in pale battalions go,
Say not soft things as other men have said,
That you'll remember. For you need not so.
Give them not praise. For, deaf, how should they know
It is not curses heaped on each gashed head?
Nor tears. Their blind eyes see not your tears flow.
Nor honour. It is easy to be dead.
Say only this, "They are dead." Then add thereto,
"yet many a better one has died before."
Then, scanning all the overcrowded mass, should you
Perceive one face that you loved heretofore,
It is a spook. None wears the face you knew.
Great death has made all this for evermore.

"BuZZZZ Wrong guess Hans,
Would you like to go for double jeopardy,
I am the fly in the ointment,
The monkey with the wrench"

Officer John McClane NYPD,
Nakatomi Plaza LA CA USA,
Christmas Eve 1988.......

That must be free verse, Whitey :D

All right, listen up guys.
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house,
not a creature was stirring, except...
the four assholes coming in the rear in standard two-by-two cover formation.

"Theo" one of Hans Grubers Henchmen
Nakatomi Plaza LA CA USA,
Christmas Eve 1988..

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by anonymouse

It's a... sonnet. About World War One.

I give up, Alec. Who wrote it? Sassoon? Owen? Brooke? Tell meeeee!! :mad::eek:

Here's Sorley's "When You See Millions of the Mouthless Dead" (1915)

When you see millions of the mouthless dead
Across your dreams in pale battalions go,
Say not soft things as other men have said,
That you'll remember. For you need not so.
Give them not praise. For, deaf, how should they know
It is not curses heaped on each gashed head?
Nor tears. Their blind eyes see not your tears flow.
Nor honour. It is easy to be dead.
Say only this, "They are dead." Then add thereto,
"yet many a better one has died before."
Then, scanning all the overcrowded mass, should you
Perceive one face that you loved heretofore,
It is a spook. None wears the face you knew.
Great death has made all this for evermore.

---

Why You asking me ?
However I know for a fact that this is a composition entirely of Mr Banned Users making - So There !!:)

and a sonnet is 14 lines not 10 - but BU dont play by the rules - he's a real poet............

Alright, my curiosity must be satisfied.

Dear Banned User,

who was it wrote dat pom?

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Banned User

The guns roared out that November night,
All around men still with fright.
In these trenches muddied and cold
Thoughts of our families in our soul

The Captain shouts once more over the top
Keep on Running, Never to Stop.
Death On its way to us poor young men,
Volunteers one and all way back when

Death on its way we must not cry
And over the top to surely Die.

---

That reminds me of For whom the bells tolls by Metallica

Willie O'Dea was a minister
twas something quite sinister,
he'd ride around in tanks,
telling tales with his pranks,
but now he's only firing blanks