Short Poetry by Popular Famous Poets

 Poet
1 William Wordsworth
2 William Shakespeare
3 Oscar Wilde
4 Emily Dickinson
5 Rabindranath Tagore
6 Maya Angelou
7 Robert Frost
8 Langston Hughes
9 Walt Whitman
10 Shel Silverstein
11 William Blake
12 Pablo Neruda
13 Sylvia Plath
14 Alfred Lord Tennyson
15 Rudyard Kipling
16 William Butler Yeats
17 Tupac Shakur
18 Edward Estlin (E E) Cummings
19 Charles Bukowski
20 Sarojini Naidu
21 Muhammad Ali
22 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
23 Billy Collins
24 Christina Rossetti
25 Sandra Cisneros
26 Alice Walker
27 Carol Ann Duffy
28 Edgar Allan Poe
29 Ogden Nash
30 John Donne
31 Ralph Waldo Emerson
32 Raymond Carver
33 Nikki Giovanni
34 John Keats
35 Lewis Carroll
36 Thomas Hardy
37 Mark Twain
38 Spike Milligan
39 Carl Sandburg
40 Anne Sexton
41 Thunchaththu Ramanujan Ezhuthachan
42 Percy Bysshe Shelley
43 Alexander Pushkin
44 Henry David Thoreau
45 Elizabeth Barrett Browning
46 Roger McGough
47 Sara Teasdale
48 Victor Hugo
49 George (Lord) Byron
50 Wendell Berry

Poetry Forum Areas

Introduce Yourself

New to PoetrySoup? Introduce yourself here. Tell us something about yourself.

Looking for a Poem

Can't find a poem you've read before? Looking for a poem for a special person or an occasion? Ask other member for help.

Writing Poetry

Ways to improve your poetry. Post your techniques, tips, and creative ideas how to write better.

High Critique

For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!

How do I...?

Ask PoetrySoup Members how to do something or find something on PoetrySoup.


You have an ad blocker! We understand, but...

PoetrySoup is a small privately owned website. Our means of support comes from advertising revenue. We want to keep PoetrySoup alive, make it better, and keep it free. Please support us by disabling your ad blocker on PoetrySoup. See how to enable ads while keeping your ad blocker active. Also, did you know you can become a PoetrySoup Lifetime Premium Member and block ads forever...while getting many more great features. Take a look! Thank you!

Famous Short Soldier Poems

Famous Short Soldier Poems. Short Soldier Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Soldier short poems

Other Short Poem Pages


Poems are below...


Soldier | Short Famous Poems and Poets

 
by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge

Good Friday in my Heart

 GOOD FRIDAY in my heart! Fear and affright! 
My thoughts are the Disciples when they fled, 
My words the words that priest and soldier said, 
My deed the spear to desecrate the dead.
And day, Thy death therein, is changed to night.
Then Easter in my heart sends up the sun.
My thoughts are Mary, when she turned to see.
My words are Peter, answering, ‘Lov’st thou Me?’ My deeds are all Thine own drawn close to Thee, And night and day, since Thou dost rise, are one.


by Wilfred Owen

The Young Soldier

 It is not death
Without hereafter
To one in dearth
Of life and its laughter,

Nor the sweet murder
Dealt slow and even
Unto the martyr
Smiling at heaven:

It is the smile
Faint as a (waning) myth,
Faint, and exceeding small
On a boy's murdered mouth.


by Siegfried Sassoon

Suicide In The Trenches

 I knew a simple soldier boy 
Who grinned at life in empty joy, 
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark, 
And whistled early with the lark.
In winter trenches, cowed and glum, With crumps and lice and lack of rum, He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.
You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye Who cheer when soldier lads march by, Sneak home and pray you'll never know The hell where youth and laughter go.


by Carl Sandburg

Chicago Poet

 I SALUTED a nobody.
I saw him in a looking-glass.
He smiled—so did I.
He crumpled the skin on his forehead, frowning—so did I.
Everything I did he did.
I said, “Hello, I know you.
” And I was a liar to say so.
Ah, this looking-glass man! Liar, fool, dreamer, play-actor, Soldier, dusty drinker of dust— Ah! he will go with me Down the dark stairway When nobody else is looking, When everybody else is gone.
He locks his elbow in mine, I lose all—but not him.


by Edgar Lee Masters

Lydia Puckett

 Knowlt Hoheimer ran away to the war
The day before Curl Trenary
Swore out a warrant through Justice Arnett
For stealing hogs.
But that's not the reason he turned a soldier.
He caught me running with Lucius Atherton.
We quarreled and I told him never again To cross my path.
Then he stole the hogs and went to the war -- Back of every soldier is a woman.


by Paul Laurence Dunbar

At the Tavern

 A lilt and a swing, 
And a ditty to sing,
Or ever the night grow old;
The wine is within,
And I'm sure t'were a sin
For a soldier to choose to be cold, my dear,
For a soldier to choose to be cold.
We're right for a spell, But the fever is -- well, No thing to be braved, at least; So bring me the wine; No low fever in mine, For a drink more kind than a priest, my dear, For a drink is more kind than a priest.


by Siegfried Sassoon

The Kiss

 To these I turn, in these I trust; 
Brother Lead and Sister Steel.
To his blind power I make appeal; I guard her beauty clean from rust.
He spins and burns and loves the air, And splits a skull to win my praise; But up the nobly marching days She glitters naked, cold and fair.
Sweet Sister, grant your soldier this; That in good fury he may feel The body where he sets his heel Quail from your downward darting kiss.


by Delmore Schwartz

Yeats Died Saturday In France

 Yeats died Saturday in France.
Freedom from his animal Has come at last in alien Nice, His heart beat separate from his will: He knows at last the old abyss Which always faced his staring face.
No ability, no dignity Can fail him now who trained so long For the outrage of eternity, Teaching his heart to beat a song In which man's strict humanity, Erect as a soldier, became a tongue.


by Emily Dickinson

My friend attacks my friend!

 My friend attacks my friend!
Oh Battle picturesque!
Then I turn Soldier too,
And he turns Satirist!
How martial is this place!
Had I a mighty gun
I think I'd shoot the human race
And then to glory run!


by Siegfried Sassoon

A Mystic As Soldier

 I lived my days apart, 
Dreaming fair songs for God; 
By the glory in my heart 
Covered and crowned and shod.
Now God is in the strife, And I must seek Him there, Where death outnumbers life, And fury smites the air.
I walk the secret way With anger in my brain.
O music through my clay, When will you sound again?


by Walt Whitman

Not Youth Pertains to Me

 NOT youth pertains to me, 
Nor delicatesse—I cannot beguile the time with talk; 
Awkward in the parlor, neither a dancer nor elegant; 
In the learn’d coterie sitting constrain’d and still—for learning.
inures not to me; Beauty, knowledge, inure not to me—yet there are two or three things inure to me; I have nourish’d the wounded, and sooth’d many a dying soldier, And at intervals, waiting, or in the midst of camp, Composed these songs.


by Henry Van Dyke

The Statue of Sherman by St. Gaudens

 This is the soldier brave enough to tell 
The glory-dazzled world that `war is hell': 
Lover of peace, he looks beyond the strife, 
And rides through hell to save his country's life.


by Ben Jonson

To Pertinax Cob


LXIX.
 — TO PERTINAX COB.

COB, thou nor soldier, thief, nor fencer art,
Yet by thy weapon liv'st! thou hast one good part.


by A E Housman

The Street Sounds to the Soldiers Tread

 The street sounds to the soldiers' tread, 
And out we troop to see: 
A single redcoat turns his head, 
He turns and looks at me.
My man, from sky to sky's so far, We never crossed before; Such leagues apart the world's ends are, We're like to meet no more; What thoughts at heart have you and I We cannot stop to tell; But dead or living, drunk or dry, Soldier, I wish you well.


by Paul Laurence Dunbar

AT THE TAVERN

A lilt and a swing,
And a ditty to sing,
Or ever the night grow old;
The wine is within,
And I 'm sure 't were a sin
For a soldier to choose to be cold, my dear,
For a soldier to choose to be cold.
We 're right for a spell,
But the fever is—well,
[Pg 227]No thing to be braved, at least;
So bring me the wine;
No low fever in mine,
For a drink is more kind than a priest, my dear,
For a drink is more kind than a priest.