Edward Dyson

Here you will find the Poem Jam (A Hymn of Hate) of poet Edward Dyson

Jam (A Hymn of Hate)

What is meant by active service 
'Ere where sin is leakin' loose, 
'N' the oldest 'and's as nervis 
As a dog-bedevilled goose, 
Has bin writ be every poet 
What can rhyme it worth a dam, 
But the 'orror as we know it 
Is jist jam, jam, JAM! 
Oh, the 'ymn of 'ate we owe it? 
Stodgy, splodgy, seepy, soaky, sanguinary 
jam! 

There's the ?fearful roar iv battle,? 
What gets underneath yer 'at, 
Mooin' like a million cattle 
Each as big as Ararat; 
There's the red field green 'n' slippy 
(And I'm cleaner where I am), 
But the thing that's got me nippy 
It is jam, jam, JAM! 
Druv us sour it has, 'n' dippy, 
Sticky, sicky, slimy, sloppy, stummick-strafin' 
jam! 

Of the mud that's in the trenches 
Writers make a solemn fuss; 
For the vermin 'n' the stenches 
Little ladies pity us; 
But the yearn that's honest dinkum, 
'N' the prayer what ain't a sham 
Is that Fritz may bust 'n' sink 'em 
Ships of jam, jam, JAM! 
For we bolt 'em, chew 'em, drink 'em, 
Million billion bar'ls of beastly, cloyin' 
clammy jam! 

We are sorry-sick of peaches, 
'N' we're full right up of plum, 
'N' innards fairly screeches 
When the tins of apple come. 
Back of Blighty piled in cases, 
Jist as close as they can cram, 
Fillin' all the open spaces, 
Is the 'jam, jam, JAM! 
Oh, the woe the soldiers face is, 
Monday, Sunday, ruddy, muddy, boundless 
bogs of jam.