Isaac Rosenberg
Isaac Rosenberg Poems
1. | Hearts First Word. Ii | 4/28/2012 |
2. | O, In A World Of Men And Women | 4/28/2012 |
3. | Tess | 4/28/2012 |
4. | On A Lady Singing | 4/28/2012 |
5. | In Piccadi | 4/28/2012 |
6. | The Nun | 4/28/2012 |
7. | Don Juans Song | 4/28/2012 |
8. | Hearts First Word. I. | 4/28/2012 |
9. | Isolation : A Fragment | 4/28/2012 |
10. | Song | 4/28/2012 |
11. | The Burning Of The Temple | 4/28/2012 |
12. | The Female God | 4/28/2012 |
13. | A Mood | 4/28/2012 |
14. | A Girls Thoughts | 4/28/2012 |
15. | Chagrin | 4/28/2012 |
16. | Sleep | 4/28/2012 |
17. | The Destruction Of Jerusalem By The Babylonian Hordes | 4/28/2012 |
18. | Wedded | 4/28/2012 |
19. | A Ballad Of Whitechapel | 4/28/2012 |
20. | The One Lost | 4/28/2012 |
21. | The Blind God | 4/28/2012 |
22. | Killed In Action | 4/28/2012 |
23. | My Days | 4/28/2012 |
24. | First Fruit | 4/28/2012 |
25. | Spring, 1916 | 4/28/2012 |
26. | Far Away | 4/28/2012 |
27. | Daughters Of War | 4/28/2012 |
28. | The Dying Soldier | 4/28/2012 |
29. | In War | 4/28/2012 |
30. | Dawn | 4/28/2012 |
31. | Expression | 4/28/2012 |
32. | Zion | 4/28/2012 |
33. | Home-Thoughts From France | 4/28/2012 |
34. | In The Underworld | 4/28/2012 |
35. | From Night And Day | 4/28/2012 |
36. | Beauty | 4/28/2012 |
37. | If You Are Fire | 4/28/2012 |
38. | A Careless Heart | 4/28/2012 |
39. | A Question | 4/28/2012 |
40. | Creation | 4/28/2012 |
Comments about Isaac Rosenberg
Dead Man's Dump
The plunging limbers over the shattered track
Racketed with their rusty freight,
Stuck out like many crowns of thorns,
And the rusty stakes like sceptres old
To stay the flood of brutish men
Upon our brothers dear.
The wheels lurched over sprawled dead
But pained them not, though their bones crunched,
Their shut mouths made no moan.
They lie there huddled, friend and foeman,
Man born of man, and born of woman,
And shells go crying over them
From night till night and now.
Earth has waited for them,
All the time of their growth
Fretting for ...
God
In his malodorous brain what slugs and mire,
Lanthorned in his oblique eyes, guttering burned!
His body lodged a rat where men nursed souls.
The world flashed grape-green eyes of a foiled cat
To him. On fragments of an old shrunk power,
On shy and maimed, on women wrung awry,
He lay, a bullying hulk, to crush them more.
But when one, fearless, turned and clawed like bronze,
Cringing was easy to blunt these stern paws,
Sad to see the comments below.
He's kinda boring ngl
I wish my homework was on someone else.
P.S. Glass of Jews please butler.
I really like this bloke we are gs. You should join our squad.
hello poet, I like your poem. from bangladesh