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Rating: 3.2
A shell surprised our post one day
And killed a comrade at my side.
My heart was sick to see the way
He suffered as he died.

I dug about the place he fell,
And found, no bigger than my thumb,
A fragment of the splintered shell
In warm aluminum.
I melted it, and made a mould,
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David Semenske 08 December 2015
This was a great poet who followed his heart. When World War I broke out he could not wait for America to get involved. He dropped out of Harvard and went to Join the British Army but they would not take him because he was not a British citizen. They recommended he join the French Foreign Legion. The rest they say is history.
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Susan Williams 07 December 2015
Tragic wisdom beautifully and clearly written.
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Kim Barney 07 December 2015
Thanks to Terry Craddock for his excellent comment below. It would be nice if there were a poet's note or some kind of explanation as to what the word 'Maktoob' means in Arabic. Those of you who speak Arabic, can you tell us? Thanks.
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Gangadharan Nair Pulingat 07 December 2015
The real war hero poem and events so accurately created into.
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M Asim Nehal 07 December 2015
Nice dedication to the HERO who lead his life to serve and live in heart, nicely penned...10
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Alem Hailu G/kristos 07 December 2015
A hero's deed lives in the memory of people.He never dies.This poem that foregrounds this fact is a gem.It deserves a high five
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Edward Kofi Louis 07 December 2015
Great work! ! With the acts of mankind; but, let us all learn and bring peace to the earth. Thanks for sharing.
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Ratnakar Mandlik 07 December 2015
A very beautifully penned poem by a more beautiful brave heart. Hats off and Salute to the poet. It is an example of eternal values based piece of literature. Thanks for sharing.10+++ points.
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Terry Craddock 07 December 2015
'Maktoob in Arabic. Maktoob! 'Tis written! ... So they think, These children of the desert, who From its immense expanses drink Some of its grandeur too. Within the book of Destiny, Whose leaves are time, whose cover, space, The day when you shall cease to be, The hour, the mode, the place, Are marked, they say; and you shall not By taking thought or using wit Alter that certain fate one jot, Postpone or conjure it. Learn to drive fear, then, from your heart. If you must perish, know, O man, 'Tis an inevitable part Of the predestined plan.' These are wonderfully written lines, fitting for an American poet who died as a soldier, romantically serving in the French Foreign, who died apparently without fear in combat. Alan Seeger had previously written 'I Have a Rendezvous with Death' and Alan Seeger died the death who hoped and wished for. 'He was killed in action at Belloy-en-Santerre on July 4,1916, famously cheering on his fellow soldiers in a successful charge after being hit several times by machine gun fire. One of his more famous poems, I Have a Rendezvous with Death, was published posthumously. Indeed, a recurrent theme in both his poetic works and his personal writings prior to falling in battle was his desire for his life to end gloriously at an early age.' 'Maktoob' by Alan Seeger is a poem worthy of being reread several times, as I have done and added to MyPoemList; I'll not vote it a 6 but a 10+++
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