Keith Douglas Poems
- How To Kill Under the parabola of a ball, a child turning ...
- Vergissmeinnicht Three weeks gone and the combatants ...
- The Knife Can I explain this to you? Your eyes are entrances...
- Cairo Jag Shall I get drunk or cut myself a piece of cake, a...
- Villanelle Of Spring Bells Bells in the town alight with ...
- Desert Flowers Living in a wide landscape are the flowers ...
- Aristocrats: 'I Think I Am Bec...
Douglas described his poetic style as 'extrospective'; that is, he focused on external impressions rather than inner emotions. The result is a poetry which, according to his detractors, can be callous in the midst of war's atrocities. For others, Douglas's work is powerful and unsettling because its exact descriptions eschew egotism and shift the burden of emotion from the poet to the reader. His best poetry is generally considered to rank alongside the twentieth-century's finest soldier-poetry.
In his poem, "Desert Flowers" (1943), Douglas mentions World War I poet Isaac Rosenberg claiming that he is only repeating what "Isaac" has already ... more »
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How To Kill
Under the parabola of a ball,
a child turning into a man,
I looked into the air too long.
The ball fell in my hand, it sang
in the closed fist: Open Open
Behold a gift designed to kill.
Now in my dial of glass appears
the soldier who is going to die.
He smiles, and moves about in ways
his mother knows, habits of his.
The wires touch his face: I cry
NOW. Death, like a familiar, hears
And look, has made a man of dust
of a man of flesh. This sorcery
I do. Being damned, I am amused
to see the centre of love diffused
and the ...