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| Thread ID: 109063 | 2010-04-22 20:53:00 | Anzac poem. | Cicero (40) | PC World Chat |
| Post ID | Timestamp | Content | User | ||
| 879193 | 2010-04-23 06:17:00 | Very, very good thanks for posting it Cicero | gary67 (56) | ||
| 879194 | 2010-04-23 06:58:00 | :thanks Thanks for sharing this, Cicero. | WalOne (4202) | ||
| 879195 | 2010-04-23 09:17:00 | Very, very deep poem. Brilliant piece of writing. We are doing war poetry at school at the moment. Do you mind if I take a copy of this to school to use? |
xyz823 (13649) | ||
| 879196 | 2010-04-23 09:23:00 | Very, very deep poem. Brilliant piece of writing. We are doing war poetry at school at the moment. Do you mind if I take a copy of this to school to use? As Cicero did not attribute this poem and you may want to discuss it at school, it may be best if you knew a bit about the Author. Hence this link:- vaincourt.homestead.com Another approriate poem by the same author:- vaincourt.homestead.com |
Sweep (90) | ||
| 879197 | 2010-04-23 09:24:00 | As Cicero did not attribute this poem and you may want to discuss it at school, it may be best if you knew a bit about the Author. Hence this link:- vaincourt.homestead.com Cool thanks. :thanks |
xyz823 (13649) | ||
| 879198 | 2010-04-23 23:03:00 | Well done Cicero, and today very appropriate in a country that does not hold their armed forces in very high regard. It reminds me of a TV programme on the BC in the seventies, "Last night another Soldier (was shot in the Ardoyne or where everetc)" This was a fairly standard headline small when the army suffered a casualty to the IRA in Northern Ireland. This programme put a face on the soldier, a man with parents, a wife and children who died in the service of his country, at the bid of politicians. |
KenESmith (6287) | ||
| 879199 | 2010-04-23 23:08:00 | In a foreign field he lay Lonely soldier, unknown grave On his dying words he prays Tell the world of Paschendale Relive all that he's been through Last communion of his soul Rust your bullets with his tears Let me tell you 'bout his years Laying low in a blood filled trench Kill time 'til my very own death On my face I can feel the falling rain Never see my friends again In the smoke, in the mud and lead Smell the fear and the feeling of dread Soon be time to go over the wall Rapid fire and the end of us all Whistles, shouts and more gun fire Lifeless bodies hang on barbed wire Battlefield nothing but a bloody tomb Be reunited with my dead friends soon Many soldiers eighteen years Drown in mud, no more tears Surely a war no-one can win Killing time about to begin Home, far away From the war, a chance to live again Home, far away But the war, no chance to live again The bodies of ours and our foes The sea of death it overflows In no man's land, God only knows Into jaws of death we go Crucified as if on a cross Allied troops they mourn their loss German war propaganda machine Such before has never been seen Swear I heard the angels cry Pray to god no more may die So that people know the truth Tell the tale of Paschendale Cruelty has a human heart Every man does play his part Terror of the men we kill The human heart is hungry still I stand my ground for the very last time Gun is ready as I stand in line Nervous wait for the whistle to blow Rush of blood and over we go Blood is falling like the rain It's crimson cloak unveils again The sound of guns can't hide their shame And so we die at Paschendale Dodging shrapnel and barbwire Running straight at cannon fire Running blind as I hold my breath Say a prayer symphony of death As we charge the enemy lines A burst of fire and we go down I choke a cry but no one hears Feel the blood go down my throat Home, far away. From the war, a chance to live again Home, far away. But the war, no chance to live again Home, far away. From the war, a chance to live again Home, far away. But the war, no chance to live again See my spirit on the wind Across the lines beyond the hill Friend and foe will meet again Those who died at Paschendale |
Metla (12) | ||
| 879200 | 2010-04-24 04:45:00 | Geez...my uncle was there. Dad said the only time he spoke of it was to say about the mud and how men and horses drowned in it. Poor buggers - RIP Ken |
kenj (9738) | ||
| 879201 | 2010-04-24 05:54:00 | Who wrote that Metla? | John H (8) | ||
| 879202 | 2010-04-24 06:07:00 | Who wrote that Metla? Iron Maiden. www.youtube.com |
Metla (12) | ||
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