Wilfred Owen

(1893-1918 / Shropshire / England)

Arms And The Boy - Poem by Wilfred Owen

1 Let the boy try along this bayonet-blade
2 How cold steel is, and keen with hunger of blood;
3 Blue with all malice, like a madman's flash;
4 And thinly drawn with famishing for flesh.

5 Lend him to stroke these blind, blunt bullet-heads
6 Which long to muzzle in the hearts of lads.
7 Or give him cartridges of fine zinc teeth,
8 Sharp with the sharpness of grief and death.

9 For his teeth seem for laughing round an apple.
10 There lurk no claws behind his fingers supple;
11 And God will grow no talons at his heels,
12 Nor antlers through the thickness of his curls.


Comments about Arms And The Boy by Wilfred Owen

  • (4/13/2018 7:16:00 AM)


    Effective use of quatrain and rhyme scheme (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • (2/20/2018 11:09:00 AM)


    Just Wow, we are studying him, and Wow (Report) Reply

  • Dawn Fuzan (4/27/2014 3:45:00 PM)


    I like this one, its Good (Report) Reply

Read all 3 comments »



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Read poems about / on: grief, death, god



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002



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