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

  • Rookie - 6 Points Dawn Fuzan (4/27/2014 3:45:00 PM)

    I like this one, its Good (Report) Reply

    2 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Gold Star - 22,327 Points * Sunprincess * (3/9/2014 3:24:00 AM)

    5 Lend him to stroke these blind, blunt bullet-heads
    6 Which long to muzzle in the hearts of lads. (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »



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Read poems about / on: grief, death, god



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002



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