Poetry of War

[Lily Von Blitz]

~~~ POETRY OF WAR ~~~
[ a wide variety of poems relating to warfare throughout the ages ]

Please post your own new poems about War [ or war-related subjects ] in here?
Or post your favourite War poems [or song Lyrics] by other poets.
[ and classic poems from all the ages of warfare are welcome in here.]

And please post LINKS to special poetry sites and other poems?
--
If you are posting an old poem, please give full credit to the writer, and also giving us the year it was written [if you know?] would be most interesting aswell.
--
Here is one I wrote since I became a member here:

~~~ Curse of the Tigers ~~~

Among the roar of their smoking engines
and the grating rattle of spinning tracks.
The steel Tigers prowl surging forwards
billowing clouds of dust from their backs.

They ride with menace past tall cornfields gold
like grim hunting 'Beasts', mighty and bold.
Big steel 'Lances' point ahead like Knights of old:
long barrels hide deadly tales waiting to be told.

Dark shapes are spotted moving near the horizon.
Targets for eager gunners to keep their eyes on.
They engage the enemy with determined desire:
metal 'Dragons' belch forth loud thunder and fire.

Barrels recoil and discharge their piercing load.
In the distance, Tank targets are seen to explode.
Spreading hot seeds of doom all along the road:
in their wake only death and havoc are sowed.

Only the tracked lines torn through corn and hay
prove which armoured 'devils' have charged this way.
Wrecks burn and smoulder all along their smoky path
as the stalking 'monsters' seek to vent more dire wrath.

As the clouds clear again, on this long battle day
Tanks are desperate to find and slaughter more prey.
Suddenly they scatter! Seeking trees and Town:
trying to flee the swift 'Warbirds' screaming down.

Tigers are now prey to the one thing they fear:
hunting 'Hawks' pumping cannon through tank roof and rear.
Vengeance is swift, then the 'vultures' swirl away.
Few Tank crew crawl home, dripping blood all the way.

For today it is over, the savage battle with no name.
But tomorrow more victims will play out the same deadly game.
~~~~~
[ poem by Lily Von Blitz - c.2008.

A serious poetic view of the savage power and grim bleakness of battle in WW2.]
--
TO ALL READERS: if you liked this poem then please let me know?
Positive feedback may encourage and inspire me to write more.

[Wustenfuchs]

Hey, that was good!
(I don't know either)

[Tom Houlihan]

Well done!

[cyberia]

Not bad.

[Geek44]

To Pete Turnbull

Silent and calm
Stands a lonely palm
That looks
Like a shipwrecked mast;
For it marks the place
Where a flying ace
And his plane
Are at rest at last

The plane lies there
With its heart torn bare
But the palm will guard it well;
For though years may go
It remains to show
The place
Where Turnbull fell.

Written by an anonymous ground crewman in honour of Squadron Leader Peter Turnbull of 76 Squadron, RAAF, killed at Milne Bay, New Guinea 1943. His P-40 Kittyhawk shot down by a Zero.

[Geek44]

Not strictly poetry but lyrics.

When The Tigers Broke Free - Pink Floyd

This one's for me mate McCoy.
Peace

[McCoy]

Ta mate! Yah beat me to the punch!

[Geek44]

Never fails to bring a tear to me eye this one.
Peace.

[Lily Von Blitz]

Hey, that was good!
(I don't know either)

Hey, many thanks for your quick and nice reply.
i really appreciate any good feedback about my poems.
glad you liked it.
Cheers.
----
TO ALL posters: thanks for all your nice comments, and poems/lyrics so far.
we have got this thread off to a good start and it's on the roll.

I hope to see more of you post your favourite war poems in here, please?

And to any budding, or novice poets I say:
Go for it.
This is a good place to practice your poetry in front of a polite audience.
----

[Lily Von Blitz]

Not strictly poetry but lyrics.
When The Tigers Broke Free - Pink Floyd
This one's for me mate McCoy.
Peace

Yes. War-related song lyrics are fine in here [ i forgot to invite them in my intro post. now edited ]. thanks.
It's all poetry...

here are those lyrics...

-- When The Tigers Broke Free -- Pink Floyd

It was just before dawn
One miserable morning in black 'forty four.
When the forward commander
Was told to sit tight
When he asked that his men be withdrawn.
And the Generals gave thanks
As the other ranks held back
The enemy tanks for a while.
And the Anzio bridgehead
Was held for the price
Of a few hundred ordinary lives.

And kind old King George
Sent Mother a note
When he heard that father was gone.
It was, I recall,
In the form of a scroll,
With gold leaf and all.
And I found it one day
In a drawer of old photographs, hidden away.
And my eyes still grow damp to remember
His Majesty signed
With his own rubber stamp.

It was dark all around.
There was frost in the ground
When the tigers broke free.
And no one survived
From the Royal Fusiliers Company C.
They were all left behind,
Most of them dead,
The rest of them dying.
And that's how the High Command
Took my daddy from me.
----