Don't know where to look,,,,Thanks & Have a Great Sunday Www@QuestionHome@Com
Question Home |
Position:Home>Poetry> Where could I find a poem titled The Big War?? ?Question: Where could I find a poem titled The Big War!?!? !? Don't know where to look,,,,Thanks & Have a Great Sunday Www@QuestionHome@Com
Best Answer - Chosen by Asker: It seems I didn’t get the title exactly right: Big War Man http://bootnewt!.envy!.nu/bigwarman!.htm (instrumental intro) Who talks so loud and acts so proud (crazy)!? It's the Big War Man!. who’s gonna steal the oil, the spoils!? Just see, it's the Big War Man!. World hates the Shrub, and he wonders why!. Where his bombs rain down, brown-skinned people die!. War just keeps him crowin' - oil cronies play!. He'd steal another race, to stay!. Fight after fight, the looney Right's crazy for their Big Oil Man!. Rush on the radio says, "Hey, listen to our Big War Man!." When his bombs came down, joy was on his face!. He thinks might makes right, and he has God's grace!. Arguments keep shiftin,' as we hear him say: "If I say you're wrong, you'll pay!" Bush won't listen to world viewpoints, 'cause his type can't get along!. Diplomacy's demeaning to his screeching right wing throng!. World rejects his war hawk message, 'cause Iraq is not his own!. This plays at home!.!.!. (instrumental break) World hates the Shrub, dropping bombs from high!. World King whose crown says brown skins must die!. What the hell's he provin'!? Everyone must know: Stealing oil's what makes him go!. Soon the right wing starts to bicker; Bush's scandals get to him!. Shrub's blustering will falter; his excuses get too thin!. But he hopes no one will notice, he's just got to find another war to stay!.!.!. War is his way!.!.!. for him to stay!.!.!. War is his way!.!.!. for him to stay!.!.!. War is his way!.!.!. for him to stay!.!.!. (instrumental fade) Www@QuestionHome@Com I searched and searched but not sure I have what you want here! The link I am supplying you with is a library source, there is a book called The Big War and the author is also a poet, but not sure this is what your looking for! I used this link very often and it is a great place to buy books also, very reasonable I might add! Maybe you could try this link as it is a library, and maybe if this doesn't work for you, maybe a library close to you, might be able to help you out!Good Luck I know it can be frustrating at times not to find what you are searching for! CheersWww@QuestionHome@Com It's not the Big War, but here's a damn fine piece with broken bodies and rotting souls!.!.!. ***** ''WALKING NEXT DAY UPON THE FATAL SHORE" from THE ATHEIST'S TRAGEDY by CYRIL TOURNEUR WALKING next day upon the fatal shore, Among the slaughtered bodies of our men Which the full-stomached sea had cast upon The sands, it was my unhappy chance to light Upon a face, whose favour when it lived, My astonished mind informed me I had seen!. He lay in's armour, as if that had been His coffin; and the weeping sea, like one Whose milder temper doth lament the death Of him whom in his rage he slew, runs up The shore, embraces him, kisses his cheek, Goes back again, and forces up the sands To bury him, and every time it parts Sheds tears upon him, till at last (as if It could no longer endure to see the man Whom it had slain, yet loath to leave him) with A kind of unresolved unwilling pace, Winding her waves one in another, like A man that folds his arms or wrings his hands For grief, ebbed from the body, and descends As if it would sink down into the earth, And hide itself for shame of such a deed!. *****Www@QuestionHome@Com Not The Big War, but!.!. 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!. Siegfried SassoonWww@QuestionHome@Com The Big War He was nineteen on that cold January day When he was drafted and was taken away Infantry training made him into a rock hard man Then a ship waited to take him to a far away land He learned to live with all the mud and rain And with a diseases that caused a lot of pain Time moved slowly until three birthdays had gone past Until the war ended and he came home at last All the medals were hidden in a drawer Grim reminders of a terrible long war What he experienced nobody will ever be told And to no publication will they ever be sold Nobody will ever know what he had been through To help keep this country free for me and you Harold C!. Smith Courtesy of Poemhunter!.comWww@QuestionHome@Com GUNGA DIN by Rudyard Kipling YOU may talk o' gin an' beer When you're quartered safe out 'ere, An' you're sent to penny-fights an' Aldershot it; But if it comes to slaughter You will do your work on water, An' you'll lick the bloomin' boots of 'im that's got it!. Now in Injia's sunny clime, Where I used to spend my time A-servin' of 'Er Majesty the Queen, Of all them black-faced crew The finest man I knew Was our regimental bhisti, Gunga Din!. It was "Din! Din! Din! You limping lump o' brick-dust, Gunga Din! Hi! slippy hitherao! Water, get it! Panee lao! You squidgy-nosed old idol, Gunga Din!" The uniform 'e wore Was nothin' much before, An' rather less than 'arf o' that be'ind, For a twisty piece o' rag An' a goatskin water-bag Was all the field-equipment 'e could find!. When the sweatin' troop-train lay In a sidin' through the day, Where the 'eat would make your bloomin' eyebrows crawl, We shouted "Harry By!" Till our throats were bricky-dry, Then we wopped 'im 'cause 'e couldn't serve us all!. It was "Din! Din! Din! You 'eathen, where the mischief 'ave you been!? You put some juldee in it, Or I'll marrow you this minute, If you don't fill up my helmet, Gunga Din!" 'E would dot an' carry one Till the longest day was done, An' 'e didn't seem to know the use o' fear!. If we charged or broke or cut, You could bet your bloomin' nut, 'E'd be waitin' fifty paces right flank rear!. With 'is mussick on 'is back, 'E would skip with our attack, An' watch us till the bugles made "Retire!." An' for all 'is dirty 'ide, 'E was white, clear white, inside When 'e went to tend the wounded under fire! It was "Din! Din! Din!" With the bullets kickin' dust-spots on the green!. When the cartridges ran out, You could 'ear the front-files shout: "Hi! ammunition-mules an' Gunga Din!" I sha'n't forgit the night When I dropped be'ind the fight With a bullet where my belt-plate should 'a' been!. I was chokin' mad with thirst, An' the man that spied me first Was our good old grinnin', gruntin' Gunga Din!. 'E lifted up my 'ead, An' 'e plugged me where I bled, An' 'e guv me 'arf-a-pint o' water—green; It was crawlin' an' it stunk, But of all the drinks I've drunk, I'm gratefullest to one from Gunga Din!. It was "Din! Din! Din! 'Ere's a beggar with a bullet through 'is spleen; 'E's chawin' up the ground an' 'e's kickin' all around: For Gawd's sake, git the water, Gunga Din!" 'E carried me away To where a dooli lay, An' a bullet come an' drilled the beggar clean!. 'E put me safe inside, An' just before 'e died: "I 'ope you liked your drink," sez Gunga Din!. So I'll meet 'im later on In the place where 'e is gone— Where it's always double drill and no canteen; 'E'll be squattin' on the coals Givin' drink to pore damned souls, An' I'll get a swig in Hell from Gunga Din! Din! Din! Din! You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din! Tho' I've belted you an' flayed you, By the livin' Gawd that made you, You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din! Www@QuestionHome@Com Elaine was referring to an event, I think, not a poem!. Ah, nice to see you're interested, buddy!.Www@QuestionHome@Com It might be written today!!! But, it'll be disastrously 'inferior' to a geni-*ss!. heheheheheheeeeeeeee!.!.!.!.!.!.!. Good Morning!!!Www@QuestionHome@Com Good question!. I was wondering that myself!. If you find out,let me know!. I don`t need any comments from the "PEANUT GALLERY"!.Www@QuestionHome@Com The big wars are what they came for!.!.!. !.!.!.But it was the "little wars" within themselves!.!.!. !.!.!.The Generals could not win!.!.!. (little improv there!.!.!.)Www@QuestionHome@Com Errrrrr Err Errrrrrr Errrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!!!! Good Morning Andrew !!!!!!!Www@QuestionHome@Com |