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Best Famous Good Soldier Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Good Soldier poems. This is a select list of the best famous Good Soldier poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Good Soldier poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of good soldier poems.

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Written by Chris Mansell | Create an image from this poem

the good soldier

 on someone else's place
it seems to him the land
slings distance way out
the dirt is dead and
the sky seems twisted
the beat of the stones is wrong
he doesn't know how to say it
there are no words no opportunity
and anyway
what would you say
that you're a stranger
and this doesn't say it at all

he walks with his weapon through the town
and from time to time he sees the luscious curl
of intimacy the uncommon common life
it's dressed differently he can't understand
the language rasping and gargling 
another time he'd be an interested tourist
now he's a hunter and the hunted

soon they say 
he'll be freed to retreat home
where the earth is vein deep
and when he puts his hand on the ground
he'll feel it beating but now
he can't remember home
though he knows the words well enough
back paddock Steve's paddock the yard
it's just words but now the imam calls
and winds a veil around his senses
and sometimes he thinks he'll never 
get back to where he belonged
Written by Robert William Service | Create an image from this poem

Funk

 When your marrer bone seems 'oller,
And you're glad you ain't no taller,
 And you're all a-shakin' like you 'ad the chills;
When your skin creeps like a pullet's,
And you're duckin' all the bullets,
 And you're green as gorgonzola round the gills;
When your legs seem made of jelly,
And you're squeamish in the belly,
 And you want to turn about and do a bunk:
For Gawd's sake, kid, don't show it!
Don't let your mateys know it --
 You're just sufferin' from funk, funk, funk.
Of course there's no denyin' That it ain't so easy tryin' To grin and grip your rifle by the butt, When the 'ole world rips asunder, And you sees yer pal go under, As a bunch of shrapnel sprays 'im on the nut; I admit it's 'ard contrivin' When you 'ears the shells arrivin', To discover you're a bloomin' bit o' *****; But, my lad, you've got to do it, And your God will see you through it, For wot 'E 'ates is funk, funk, funk.
So stand up, son; look gritty, And just 'um a lively ditty, And only be afraid to be afraid; Just 'old yer rifle steady, And 'ave yer bay'nit ready, For that's the way good soldier-men is made.
And if you 'as to die, As it sometimes 'appens, why, Far better die a 'ero than a skunk; A-doin' of yer bit, And so -- to 'ell with it, There ain't no bloomin' funk, funk, funk.