Long Warmen Poems
Long Warmen Poems. Below are the most popular long Warmen by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Warmen poems by poem length and keyword.
The Tiger General
Hobbes
The Tiger general strode onto the field of battle,
Tail flowing eloquently as he walked.
And then he turned to his men and began to speak,
They fell instantly silent as he talked.
The general led his men with a strong presence and iron resolve,
They fell into line at a quick command.
When they marched he always took the head,
And lead his men across the fields of sand.
His men followed him with love, respect and admiration.
His feats were the stuff that make up great tales.
Each fur who followed him took every order to a tee.
And when it comes to plans he never fails.
The tiger knew this battle was different then the last,
He felt the tides turn on the winds of change.
He knew that something horrible was about to happen.
He didn't know about the scope or range.
It was in the thick of the combat that he found it out,
and his face changed to one of hidden pain.
But he never showed his men a shred of doubt,
And each passing feeling he would detain.
He started loosing men at an alarming rate,
And he drew his blade and rallied the boys.
But the enemy had an advantage so large,
It made the master steel look like toys.
The guns were blaring left and right as the tiger stood his ground,
Never surrender he yelled to his men.
And nobody saw that he had shed a few tears
For brothers he would never see again.
The general never backed down and stood his ground,
He screamed that he would fight ''til his last breath.
And he fought with burning desire and passion,
He brought many a Soldier to their death.
And when it came time the tiger knew a showdown would occur,
As the two leader met amidst the fight.
The wolf opposite him unsheathed his own katana,
A true battle that would be quite a sight.
Each great leader was gifted with amazing skill,
They fought each other with tremendous guile.
And the further they got the more the tiger thought,
Soon enough the wolf will show his true style.
The battle went back and forth in a clash of sparks,
And then the wolf took out the tigers feet.
The cheater finally showed his true stripes and colours,
And brought the tiger general to defeat.
The tiger general's men rallied on to win the battle,
And even through death he drove them forward.
His men will always remember him as a friend and a brother,
And a man who truly lived by the sword.
Kokoda Efogi 1942....
The Japanese turned tail and headed north on twenty eighth September forty two. ...
They'd struggled round on mountains fought stopped near Moresby by the few. ...
Eighteen hundred went to stop ten thousand in the jungle mountains high. ...
Fought and skirmished over land in a rainforest never dry. ..
Our fresh Brigade now drove them off and followed as they ran, ...
in places high we'd count the cost where our mates died every man. ...
Near Efogi in a clearing up among the mountains high, ..
stopped to wonder at the scene, dead men round a circle lie. ...
All around a circle green, bloated rotten stinking high, ...
Japanese were piled up everywhere, by the dozen just to die. ...
So many died why came the thought? What killed them though they tried? ...
There in a pit two brave men fought, two Bren gunners fought and died. ...
Sat back to back to watch the clearing, even bullet riddled, soldiered on. ...
Slowly died with each bullet searing, fought till their last bullet fired and gone. ...
Two marksmen stayed upon the trail, let the wounded, get away, ...
Japanese in thousands were a coming, o'er the mountains narrow way. ...
2 Bren machine gun bullet spenders, deadly accurate this I say, ...
all around the bullets humming, squealing Japanese were turned to clay. ...
Kokoda trail held till they died, slowed the Japanese a little way, ...
though surrounded no surrender, at the time had death to pay. ...
21st Brigade men fought and died, two lives given on the day, ...
like Horatious at the bridge, didn't falter there to stay...
September 1942 two men were discovered near Efogi in New Guinea... My father Don Johnson of the 2/25th Btn. saw these two brave men had died fighting the thousands of Japanese... Don Johnson...
The Bren machine gun .303 caliber was so accurate that 2 to three bullets did take the top
of the head off your opposition soldier, if he popped his head up.
When these brave men died we were being pressured by overwhelming odds,
Up to 13,000 available Japanese troops were encircling each of the 3 battalions total 2,500 soldiers sent to stop them.
Constantly surrounding them in the mountains, forcing retreats ...
There have been times in our land
When our nation has had to take a stand.
It first began at Bunker's Hill
Where so many men were then killed.
All through that war with the British King
Men here in America were fighting and dying.
They were the first "Veterans" of the US,
When duty calls, there was always a surplus.
Always men of courage it takes it seems
Like those with Jackson at New Orleans.
There were "Veterans" who fought both South and North
When the country was split, her sons poured forth.
Healing those wounds would take some time
But in the end it came in line.
Of course no one remembers the row with Spain
Where America sent her men once again.
The "War to End All Wars" was more than a saying
As loved ones and sweethearts were left home praying.
Oh, Chateau Thierry, the Argonne, Belleau Wood and more
Are now in our history as battles of that war.
Then came the biggest war of all
When the world went crazy in '39's Fall.
Our "Veterans" were there too,
In Africa, Europe, and the Katmandu.
From Casablanca and Casserein on Africa's shore,
To Sicily, Anzio, Normandy, and the Bastogne's of that war.
The Pacific saw its share of death and hell
From the first bombs at Pearl Harbor to Gaudalcanal.
Many "Veterans" died at Iwo Jima, Saipan, Okinawa too,
They shed their blood for me and you.
After the end, we thought we might have some order,
Until the Communists in Korea crossed the border.
The Vietnam era was one of upheaval and race,
Some "Veterans" coming home even received a spit in the face.
For their part the "Veterans" were not to blame,
And for our country, it was a time of shame.
Dessert Storm and Dessert Shield put them in the MidEast
Where terror reigns with sate for a feast.
Yet, the soldier, sailor, or airman know,
If his country calls, he must go.
They follow the traditions of other "Veterans" you see,
They put their lives on the line for both you and me.
To the ones who have worn our country's uniform I say
"Thank You, Veteran", we should honor you with more than one day!
The Flag of the British Merchant Navy
The Battle of the Atlantic
We’ve heard of the famous Mighty Hood that was sunk by a Bismarck shell
We know how many men were lost and the Skippers name as well
We’ve seen the Battleship Barham rolling on her side
before the huge explosion in which so many died
The Repulse and Prince of Wales on rout to the Singapore post
Both lost to the Jap torpedo planes off the Malaya coast
There’s a film about the Kelly sunk in the battle of Crete
And of the famous River Plate where we inflicted defeat
Yet who knows the names of the merchant ships sunk almost every day
Who knew that as these ships went down seamen were put off pay
Shipping Companies all did this to cut down on the cost
They lost one of their freighters, but how many lives were lost
What of the men on the Arctic run ferrying Russian supplies
The ocean full of U-boats and Bombers filling the skies
Sailing a gas filled Tanker some only in their teens
Wondering if they’ll freeze to death or be blown to smithereens
Wallowing along in a rusting tramp to save the Russian Nation
Struggling to make eight knots whilst trying to keep station
Should a seaman stay topside or should he seek his bunk
Knowing if you fall astern your certain to be sunk
Many a merchant ship now lies under the Barents Sea
Lost in a desperate struggle to set the Russians free
The ocean bed is littered with merchant seaman’s bones
Now to lay forever at peace with Davie Jones
As a Nation we are rightly proud of our Navy in World War Two
Likewise of the R.A.F and what we owe to the few
To the men who fought at Arhnem and Monty’s Desert Rats
To those who fought the Japanese to all we raise our hats
From the Home Guard to the S.O.E in it from the start
All of our Armed Services were keen to play their part
Each had lost so many when they counted the final muster
But the greatest loss was those who sailed under the Old Red Duster
Form:
When my parents asked me: "who do you love most?"
I would always response with: "both"
But I was the little girl who always started tearing up when dad came later than usual from City.
"What if daddy got kidnapped?", I asked my mum, I felt ty.
Even though dad is a grown man,
Even though dad knows the path of both ways by heart,
Even though dad has a car to drive,
A phone right in his pocket,
And extra Keys for the house.
I shaked of fear.
Because night that day came near.
It was midnight.
But as I got older he did things that didn't fit tight.
He called me princess and pretty,
But then criticized inches of my clothing and found my interests silly,
As I fought back with fisses and sat back tried again with the action of chilly.
I understood, he is not the only man who gave me a kissie.
So did my grandpa whose shirts I ruined with tears after he made me cry.
So did my one uncle who greeted me with saying: "honey" and didn't let out a sigh.
My other uncle didn't care.
My aunties didn't care.
The others didn't,
Maybe they would've,
But I never could've shown them.
Because they never would dear to reach our house,
Since my mother made a spouse,
And hear breath pinched my air while she said the words: "your dads kindness is not all he has in amount"
Yes, he did run after my one uncle after an argument trying to hit him.
Screamed on his phone to my auntie since she divorced with her man while he told me to watch out and wear shoes that are firm.
While we went in the Park and had fun.
And now I am heading the pot in the kitchen sink because the food has dried out of staying too long into the sun.
I made a lot.
I povered them and warmen them up.
But couldn't finish my plate because either way I would sobb.
Die Rose,
die im Stillen mir schon blühte,
vertrocknet war sie schnell im Morgenlicht.
Und auch ihr Duft,
verging zu schnell,
Wie kurz geträumter Traum,
der leicht zerbricht.
Wo dürre Zweige
sich verworren zeigen,
im Dickicht,
hinter frischem Grün,
zeigen sich Blüten bunt
im Farbenreigen,
bevor sie schnell
im Sommerlicht verblühn.
Die Rose,
die ich meine,
sie blühte nur für mich alleine,
im warmen Sommerwind.
Doch blühte sie vielleicht auch nur
zum Scheine,
um mir zu zeigen
wie die Zeit verrinnt.
---------------------------------------------
The rose,
which flowered sectetly for me,
had dried up fast in early morning light.
And hence its scent,
which did not last
had passed too fast,
Like dreams too briefly dreamed
and easy break at last
Dry branches twisted
in the thicket tight,
behind fresh green,
and brightly painted blossoms show
a coloured round dance,
yet be seen
before they quickly wilter
in summer's glooming light
The rose,
I mean,
blossomed only for me,
in this warm summer wind.
But also might have bloomed pretenced.
And nothing more for me to say,
how quickly time trickles away.
----------------------------------------------
La rosa
que floreció secreto para mí,
secó tan ágil en la luz de la mañana.
Y su aroma pasó rápido,
como un sueño poco soñado
que quebra muy ligero
Donde ramas secas
muestren confusión
del matorral
detrás de verde fresco,
aparecen flores colorados
en colorido baile de la ilusión
antes que marchitan
en la veraniego luz
La rosa,
de que hablo,
floreció sólo para mí,
en el viento caliente del verano.
Pero floreció tal vez de farsa,
para mostrarme sólo así,
cómo tan rápido el tiempo pasa
Ypres, was by far the worst:
Fields were littered with lost memories,
Dismembered dreams,
Faded laughs and gestures-
The little nuances of life,
The things that made us tick...
All forgotten.
Some men walked among the bodies, smiling:
"Our fallen heroes, you shall rise and be commended for your
service in the Kingdom of Heaven! May you rest in peace..."
They saluted their fate,
Eyes wet and wide with pride.
Yet others glued their gaze to the purity
Of the sky, void from sights of violence
Or the artifacts of war-
Remains of fallen friends,
And the faces of the enemy-
"I rather not know".
By the second year I forgot what we were
Fighting for... Ourselves? Loved ones? God?
A ceaseless nightmare.
Here, a red shroud of violence and madness fell
Upon the men- A suffocating scarlet heat,
That sought to burst out through the horror
Of the war,
Different voices whisper:
"I will never see my family again..."
"I left him to die... it's my fault..."
"I have lost the grace of God..."
And now in unison:
"I am not human".
Some men turned against their brothers-
We were all in on it.
The trenches were our world,
We were invisible,
Shapeless,
And men became like rabid animals;
Murder, Rape, Self-Mutilation- Degeneration,
And it was finished.
Some came home,
But all were dead,
Trudging along the wartorn path,
Never to find peace again-
Lost in The Aftermath.
The air is thick with dust and flame, who started this? Who is to blame?
Shells and rockets rake the field yet neither side is like to yield
There’s no retreat, no going back, just blindly forward in attack
Men are wounded. Men lose limbs. And those who die we praise with hymns
Or stand to hear the lesson read, yet nothings changed, THESE MEN ARE DEAD
We strive to bring their bodies back in boxes draped in union jack
They’ve paid the price and given all but their pay is stopped from when they fall
These fathers’ lovers’ brothers sons have fallen to each other’s guns
Do politicians really care, they might if they were fighting there
They praise all those who serve our nation yet try to cut their compensation
It’s never those whom nations lead get stuck in hell to die or bleed
They just cajole our sons and brothers to go to war and murder others
Both sides’ young men fall for the trick. Greed, religion, politic
That foreign Johnny turban clad is really just an Afghan lad
Who with religious hatred filled joined the fray was quickly killed
Likewise the lad in kaki gear is just a lad from over here.
Courageous, patriotic, smart he volunteers to play his part
He leaves behind his child and wife and goes abroad to lose his life
The Commons reads his name aloud saying that we should be proud
Should we be proud when we’re to blame
NO WE SHOULD HANG OUR HEADS IN SHAME
Form:
"Over The Top!" was the battle cry of the First World War!
At the Captain's signal, from the trenches doughboys would pour!
Shoulder to shoulder with bayonets fixed, steel glinting in the sun,
On they rushed, some to live, others to die, to face the fearless Hun!
On they raced through no-man's land, through the mud and gore,
Midst the din of the muskets' rattle and the cannons' roar!
The once bucolic field was now imbued in blood with so little gain.
Alas, many were maimed and hundreds from both sides were slain.
Sleep doesn't come easily as gallant men await the break of day.
Thoughts of home and happier times helped their fears allay.
Many turned their dog-eared Bibles to the Twenty-Third Psalm,
To read by flickering candlelight that ancient message of calm.
Life in the trenches was certainly not a life of ease.
It was cold and damp with water up to the knees.
Mail was sparse and a warm meal was rather rare.
Occasionally, poisonous gases crept stealthily through the air.
Why do men press on in battle when they know they're apt to die?
Is it because of their Sergeant's leadership or his rallying cry?
Is it his love of country and freedom that he hopes will turn the tide?
Nae! He fears that he'll let his buddy down who soldiers at his side!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Die frische Luft zum Atmen,
die aus dem Regen steigt,
umgibt mich mit der
feuchten Ruhe eines warmen Tages.
Noch zeigt die Nacht nicht ihr Gesicht,
noch bleiben Stunden hell,
nur leichter Wind treibt
Wasserperlen an mein Fenster.
Dann plötzlich der Hagel
wie Winterboten in dem Sommertag.
Die Bäume zittern
und werfen ihre Blätter ab,
die finden auf dem weißen Gras
dann schnell ihr frühes Grab.
--------------------------------------------
The fresh air to breathe,
coming out of the rain,
surrounds me with the
wet silence of a hot day.
Night not yet shows its face,
still hours remain bright,
only a light wind pushes
beads of water on my window.
Then suddenly the hail
like a winter herald on a summer day
Trees tremble
and throw off their leaves,
which quickly find on whitish grass
their early grave.
---------------------------------------------
El aire fresco para respirar,
saliendo de la lluvia,
me rodea con la
humida silencia de un día caluroso.
Todavía no muestra la noche su cara,
horas aún siguen claras,
sólo un viento ligero lleva
perlas de agua a mi ventana.
Luego de repente el granizo
como un mensajero de invierno
en un día de verano.
Los árboles tiemblan
y pierden sus hojas,
y rápidamente encuentren
en la hierba blanca
su tumba prematura.