# Let's collect some tough, manly poetry **URL:** \ **Category:** Cafe Society\ **Created:** [November 11, 2010, 2:13pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302 "2010-11-11T14:13:11Z")\ **Posts on this page:** 20\ **Page:** 1
**Author:** ![ITR\_champion](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/i/c67d28/32.png) [@ITR\_champion](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/ITR_champion)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 2:13pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/1 "2010-11-11T14:13:11Z")
Despite all fact, logic, and common sense, the perception that poetry is somehow wimpy continues to exist in the minds of many, particularly young people. To combat that perception, this thread is for collecting examples of poetry that practically ooze testosterone. To start of with, _The Rhyme of the Restless Ones_, by Robert Service: _We couldn’t sit and study for the law; The stagnation of a bank we couldn’t stand; For our riot blood was surging, and we didn’t need much urging To excitements and excesses that are banned. So we took to wine and drink and other things, And the devil in us struggled to be free; Till our friends rose up in wrath, and they pointed out the path, And they paid our debts and packed us o’er the sea._ ---
**Author:** ![muldoonthief](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/muldoonthief/32/3188_2.png) [@muldoonthief](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/muldoonthief)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 2:32pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/2 "2010-11-11T14:32:01Z")
I don’t know if posting the whole poem will pass copyright muster, so he’s an excerpt and link to Tennyson’s [“The Charge of the Light Brigade.”](http://poetry.eserver.org/light-brigade.html) Flash’d all their sabres bare, Flash’d as they turn’d in air, Sabring the gunners there, Charging an army, while All the world wonder’d: Plunged in the battery-smoke Right thro’ the line they broke; Cossack and Russian Reel’d from the sabre stroke Shatter’d and sunder’d. Then they rode back, but not Not the six hundred. ---
**Author:** ![Paul\_in\_Qatar](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/p/ccd318/32.png) [@Paul\_in\_Qatar](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Paul_in_Qatar)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 2:40pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/3 "2010-11-11T14:40:54Z")
“Bill the Bomber” by Robert Service The poppies gleamed like bloody pools through cotton-woolly mist; The Captain kept a-lookin’ at the watch upon his wrist; And there we smoked and squatted, as we watched the shrapnel flame; ‘Twas wonnerful, I’m tellin’ you, how fast them bullets came. ‘Twas weary work the waiting, though; I tried to sleep a wink, For waitin’ means a-thinkin’, and it doesn’t do to think. So I closed my eyes a little, and I had a niceish dream Of a-standin’ by a dresser with a dish of Devon cream; But I hadn’t time to sample it, for suddenlike I woke: “Come on, me lads!” the Captain says, ‘n I climbed out through the smoke. We spread out in the open: it was like a bath of lead; But the boys they cheered and hollered fit to raise the bloody dead, Till a beastly bullet copped ‘em, then they lay without a sound, And it’s odd – we didn’t seem to heed them corpses on the ground. And I kept on thinkin’, thinkin’, as the bullets faster flew, How they picks the werry best men, and they lets the rotters through; So indiscriminatin’ like, they spares a man of sin, And a rare lad wot’s a husband and a father gets done in. And while havin’ these reflections and advancin’ on the run, A bullet biffs me shoulder, and says I: “That’s number one.” ---
**Author:** ![Labdad](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/l/439d5e/32.png) [@Labdad](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Labdad)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 2:42pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/4 "2010-11-11T14:42:44Z")
Rudyard Kipling ought to be right in your wheelhouse! How about _Gunga Din_: You may talk o’ gin and beer When you’re quartered safe out ‘ere, An’ you’re sent to penny-fights an’ Aldershot it; But when it comes to slaughter You will do your work on water, An’ you’ll lick the bloomin’ boots of ‘im that’s got it. Now in Injia’s sunny clime, Where I used to spend my time A-servin’ of ‘Er Majesty the Queen, Of all them blackfaced crew The finest man I knew Was our regimental bhisti, Gunga Din. He was "Din! Din! Din! You limpin’ lump o’ brick-dust, Gunga Din! Hi! slippery hitherao! Water, get it! Panee lao! You squidgy-nosed old idol, Gunga Din." The uniform ‘e wore Was nothin’ much before, An’ rather less than ‘arf o’ that be’ind, For a piece o’ twisty rag An’ a goatskin water-bag Was all the field-equipment ‘e could find. When the sweatin’ troop-train lay In a sidin’ through the day, Where the ‘eat would make your bloomin’ eyebrows crawl, We shouted “Harry By!” Till our throats were bricky-dry, Then we wopped 'im 'cause 'e couldn’t serve us all. It was “Din! Din! Din! You 'eathen, where the mischief 'ave you been? You put some juldee in it Or I’ll marrow you this minute If you don’t fill up my helmet, Gunga Din!” ‘E would dot an’ carry one Till the longest day was done; An’ ‘e didn’t seem to know the use o’ fear. If we charged or broke or cut, You could bet your bloomin’ nut, ‘E’d be waitin’ fifty paces right flank rear. With 'is mussick on ‘is back, ‘E would skip with our attack, An’ watch us till the bugles made “Retire”, An’ for all 'is dirty 'ide ‘E was white, clear white, inside When ‘e went to tend the wounded under fire! It was “Din! Din! Din!” With the bullets kickin’ dust-spots on the green. When the cartridges ran out, You could hear the front-files shout, "Hi! ammunition-mules an’ Gunga Din!" I shan’t forgit the night When I dropped be’ind the fight With a bullet where my belt-plate should ‘a’ been. I was chokin’ mad with thirst, An’ the man that spied me first Was our good old grinnin’, gruntin’ Gunga Din. ‘E lifted up my ‘ead, An’ he plugged me where I bled, An’ ‘e guv me ‘arf-a-pint o’ water-green: It was crawlin’ and it stunk, But of all the drinks I’ve drunk, I’m gratefullest to one from Gunga Din. It was “Din! Din! Din! 'Ere’s a beggar with a bullet through ‘is spleen; ‘E’s chawin’ up the ground, An’ ‘e’s kickin’ all around: For Gawd’s sake git the water, Gunga Din!” ‘E carried me away To where a dooli lay, An’ a bullet come an’ drilled the beggar clean. ‘E put me safe inside, An’ just before ‘e died, “I 'ope you liked your drink”, sez Gunga Din. So I’ll meet ‘im later on At the place where ‘e is gone – Where it’s always double drill and no canteen; ‘E’ll be squattin’ on the coals Givin’ drink to poor damned souls, An’ I’ll get a swig in hell from Gunga Din! Yes, Din! Din! Din! You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din! Though I’ve belted you and flayed you, By the livin’ Gawd that made you, You’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din ---
**Author:** ![septimus](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/septimus/32/410_2.png) [@septimus](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/septimus)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 3:29pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/5 "2010-11-11T15:29:33Z")
_Invictus_ by William Ernest Henley \*Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.\* ---
**Author:** ![pravnik](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/p/8edcca/32.png) [@pravnik](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/pravnik)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 3:33pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/6 "2010-11-11T15:33:54Z")
Wilfred Owen, [Dulce et Decorum Est](http://www.warpoetry.co.uk/owen1.html). ---
**Author:** ![Nava](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/n/da6949/32.png) [@Nava](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Nava)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 3:37pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/7 "2010-11-11T15:37:31Z")
Anything from Espronceda. Sadly, the material Project Gutenberg has on him “[in English](http://www.gutenberg.org/files/15781/15781-h/15781-h.htm#b1)” doesn’t appear to have translations - what’s in English is the comentary. … For my ship is all my treasure, and Freedom my only God, my law is strength and wind, my only country, the sea… ---
**Author:** ![Le\_Ministre\_de\_l\_au-dela](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/le_ministre_de_l_au-dela/32/12181_2.png) [@Le\_Ministre\_de\_l\_au-dela](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Le_Ministre_de_l_au-dela)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 3:38pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/8 "2010-11-11T15:38:10Z")
Carl Sandburg - Ice Handler I KNOW an ice handler who wears a flannel shirt with pearl buttons the size of a dollar, And he lugs a hundred-pound hunk into a saloon ice- box, helps himself to cold ham and rye bread, Tells the bartender it’s hotter than yesterday and will be hotter yet to-morrow, by Jesus, And is on his way with his head in the air and a hard pair of fists. He spends a dollar or so every Saturday night on a two hundred pound woman who washes dishes in the Hotel Morrison. He remembers when the union was organized he broke the noses of two scabs and loosened the nuts so the wheels came off six different wagons one morning, and he came around and watched the ice melt in the street. All he was sorry for was one of the scabs bit him on the knuckles of the right hand so they bled when he came around to the saloon to tell the boys about it. ---
**Author:** ![Dewey\_Finn](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/dewey_finn/32/4222_2.png) [@Dewey\_Finn](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Dewey_Finn)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 3:55pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/9 "2010-11-11T15:55:59Z")
> [@muldoonthief](#): > > I don’t know if posting the whole poem will pass copyright muster, so he’s an excerpt and link to Tennyson’s [“The Charge of the Light Brigade.”](http://poetry.eserver.org/light-brigade.html) As it was written in 1854, I think it’s safely in the public domain. ---
**Author:** ![Son\_of\_a\_Rich](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/son_of_a_rich/32/5439_2.png) [@Son\_of\_a\_Rich](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Son_of_a_Rich)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 3:57pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/10 "2010-11-11T15:57:42Z")
Tennyson wrote of some sailors who were so pissed at their captain that, when battle time came, they refused to fight and let the ship be sunk. Don’t recall the name. ---
**Author:** ![furt](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/f/439d5e/32.png) [@furt](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/furt)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 3:57pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/11 "2010-11-11T15:57:56Z")
[Horatius](http://www.englishverse.com/poems/horatius) … But the Consul’s brow was sad, And the Consul’s speech was low, And darkly looked he at the wall, And darkly at the foe. ‘Their van will be upon us Before the bridge goes down; And if they once may win the bridge, What hope to save the town?’ Then out spake brave Horatius, The Captain of the gate: ‘To every man upon this earth Death cometh soon or late. And how can man die better Than facing fearful odds, For the ashes of his fathers, And the temples of his Gods, ‘And for the tender mother Who dandled him to rest, And for the wife who nurses His baby at her breast, And for the holy maidens Who feed the eternal flame, To save them from false Sextus That wrought the deed of shame? ‘Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul, With all the speed ye may; I, with two more to help me, Will hold the foe in play. In yon strait path a thousand May well be stopped by three. Now who will stand on either hand, And keep the bridge with me?’ ---
**Author:** ![justrob](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/j/a9adbd/32.png) [@justrob](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/justrob)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 4:01pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/12 "2010-11-11T16:01:34Z")
I know it doesn’t stack up against the real poets posted but I was quite proud of this haiku in High School. Quack said the duck. Boom replied the hunters gun. Down fell the duck, dead. -justrob Of course looking at it now I must be forgetting something as it’s 4-7-5 not 5-7-5. ---
**Author:** ![Yllaria](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/yllaria/32/3452_2.png) [@Yllaria](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Yllaria)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 4:08pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/13 "2010-11-11T16:08:23Z")
You left out the duck’s echo. ---
**Author:** ![Johnny\_L.A](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/johnny_l.a/32/1084_2.png) [@Johnny\_L.A](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Johnny_L.A)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 4:12pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/14 "2010-11-11T16:12:18Z")
_The sky is blue The grass is green Get off your butt And join the Marines!_ – John Wayne, _Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In_ 😛 ---
**Author:** ![WordMan](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/w/e8c25b/32.png) [@WordMan](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/WordMan)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 4:20pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/15 "2010-11-11T16:20:33Z")
Why is it that I want the examples to be short? Maybe because I equate “tough” and “manly” with not a lot of talk. And yes, I appreciate the irony of my username within that context. Maybe I should update to “Manly WordMan” or “WordManly” :p:D **Deeds Not Words** - a motto used by some regiments, etc. - just seems perfect as a manly phrase loaded with poetic nuance. Who are some of the most famous Warrier Poets - I mean besides Stephen Colbert? ---
**Author:** ![Inner\_Stickler](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/inner_stickler/32/318_2.png) [@Inner\_Stickler](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Inner_Stickler)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 4:30pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/16 "2010-11-11T16:30:26Z")
I’ve always had a fondness for Thomas Hardy’s Hap: IF but some vengeful god would call to me From up the sky, and laugh: “Thou suffering thing, Know that thy sorrow is my ecstasy, That thy love’s loss is my hate’s profiting!” Then would I bear, and clench myself, and die, Steeled by the sense of ire unmerited; Half-eased, too, that a Powerfuller than I Had willed and meted me the tears I shed. But not so. How arrives it joy lies slain, And why unblooms the best hope ever sown? —Crass Casualty obstructs the sun and rain, And dicing Time for gladness casts a moan…. These purblind Doomsters had as readily strown Blisses about my pilgrimage as pain. ---
**Author:** ![Johnny\_L.A](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/johnny_l.a/32/1084_2.png) [@Johnny\_L.A](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Johnny_L.A)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 4:43pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/17 "2010-11-11T16:43:14Z")
What about [_High Flight_](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Gillespie_Magee,_Jr.) by John Gillespie Magee, Jr? It has it’s ‘Oh, isn’t this pretty’ element, and it’s about the emotions experienced while flying. But flying is a ‘manly’ pursuit in most people’s perception. ---
**Author:** ![BrainGlutton](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/b/82dd89/32.png) [@BrainGlutton](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/BrainGlutton)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 4:56pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/18 "2010-11-11T16:56:12Z")
“Ballad of the Green Berets,” by Barry Sadler: Fighting soldiers from the sky Fearless men who jump and die Men who mean just what they say The brave men of the Green Beret ---
**Author:** ![Malacandra](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/m/45deac/32.png) [@Malacandra](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Malacandra)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 4:56pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/19 "2010-11-11T16:56:20Z")
Kipling’s got a bundle of them. _The Ballad of East and West_ is a tad long to paste, so here’s a [link](http://www.bartleby.com/246/1129.html). A few lines, after the Colonel’ son has been chasing Kamal the bandit chief for hours and his horse has foundered midstream: And Kamal has turned the red mare back, and pulled the rider free. He has knocked the pistol out of his hand—small room was there to strive, “’T was only by favor of mine,” quoth he, “ye rode so long alive: There was not a rock for twenty mile, there was not a clump of tree, But covered a man of my own men with his rifle cocked on his knee… Lightly answered the Colonel’s son:—“Do good to bird and beast, But count who come for the broken meats before thou makest a feast… But if thou thinkest the price be fair,—thy brethren wait to sup, The hound is kin to the jackal-spawn,—howl, dog, and call them up! Kamal has gripped him by the hand and set him upon his feet. “No talk shall be of dogs,” said he, “when wolf and gray wolf meet. May I eat dirt if thou hast hurt of me in deed or breath; What dam of lances brought thee forth to jest at the dawn with Death?” Lightly answered the Colonel’s son: “I hold by the blood of my clan: Take up the mare for my father’s gift—by God, she has carried a man! They have looked each other between the eyes, and there they found no fault, They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood on leavened bread and salt: They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood on fire and fresh-cut sod, On the hilt and the haft of the Khyber knife, and the Wondrous Names of God… Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the two shall meet, Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God’s great Judgment Seat; But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth, When two strong men stand face to face, tho’ they come from the ends of the earth! ---
**Author:** ![Loisseau](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/l/2bfe46/32.png) [@Loisseau](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Loisseau)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 4:56pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/20 "2010-11-11T16:56:38Z")
**Under the Cloud by D. Nurkse** We ran in all directions — to the vest-pocket park or the blocked tunnel — it was OK to run, there were guards in uniform lumbering beside us, we fell into a gait, not too fast, each terrified of stumbling or trampling a straggler. … [Next page](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302.md?page=2)