Comments about Wilfred Owen
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bye83991: Those who have no hope pass their old age shrouded with an inward gloom.,Wilfred Owen,Age, Old Age, Old ,
pries10247: Those who have no hope pass their old age shrouded with an inward gloom.,Wilfred Owen,Age, Old Age, Old ,
war_poets: 28 March 1917 Wilfred Owen is at the Casualty Clearing Station on the Somme front ‘They still keep me here, though I go out every afternoon. I have no letters, but have been able to get a few books from a small town where I motored on Sunday. I also got a cheap watch’
ronmanagernottm: Clifton Colliery, 1895.
"The centuries will burn rich loads
With which we groaned,
Whose warmth shall lull their dreaming lids,
While songs are crooned;
But they will not dream of us poor lads,
Left in the ground."
Wilfred Owen
AustineOdaro: The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
It is sweet and fitting to die for one's country~ Wilfred Owen
BL_Learning: There's still time to book your FREE place for our CPD on the poetry of conflict, this Thursday 30 March!
EdgardLemaire: "This book is not about heroes. English Poetry is not yet fit to speak of them. Nor is it about deeds or lands, nor anything about glory, honour, dominion or power, except War.
Above all, this book is not concerned with Poetry.
The subject of it is War..."
Wilfred Owen - Poems
shelfenthusiast: christopher eccelston's reading of dulce et decorum by wilfred owen
Prof_Cooper: After last week's look at Wilfred Owen's poetry of the Great War, we provide a contrasting view with the poetry of Rupert Brooke!
eatastrawberry1: Anyone else want to share Wilfred Owen poems this morning?
AidanHynes5: My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity.
- Wilfred Owen.
mobiquotes: I've read a lot of war writing, even World War I writing, the British war poetry of Wilfred Owen and Siegfried Sassoon, Robert Graves's memoir 'Goodbye to All That,' and a civilian memoir, 'Testament of Youth,' by Vera Brittain.
war_poets: 24 March 1917 Wilfred Owen writes to his brother Colin about his plans after the war ‘I determined to keep pigs’ and includes a version of ‘Sonnet – with an Identity Disc’ which is an early version of ‘To My Friend (with an identity disc)’
Mirimatodzi: Anthem for doomed youth - Wilfred Owen
wikipediachain: COVID-19 pandemic in Sweden > Military exercise > Military theory > Defeat in detail > Land warfare > Infantry > Ballista > Structural history of the Roman military > Phaedrus (fabulist) > Foot (prosody) > Pararhyme > Wilfred Owen > Battle of the Sambre (1918) > Canada > OECD
IanMaurice1948: My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity.
Wilfred Owen
the_vic_toria: Strange Meeting by Wilfred Owen
war_poets: 22 March 1917 Wilfred Owen writes to his sister ‘I am now really quite well, but am not getting up yet, as it is snowing and I couldn’t go out if I did dress. But we sit round the stove in Kimonos, padded with cotton, very pleasant wear'
BankesNigel: EVERY SINGLE UCP MLA
"None will break ranks, though nations trek from progress"
Wilfred Owen, Strange Meeting.
henrymi58: If only I appreciated poetry in High School. All I really liked was Wilfred Owen written during his time as a soldier in WW 1. He met a tragic end.
fitzfromdublin: Someone just mentioned Harold Pinter’s Iraq war poetry - for which he won the Wilfred Owen prize!- and I wanted to go back and see if it was as bad as I remember. God, it’s so much worse
BellFoundation: 7. Dulce et Decorum Est by Wilfred Owen:
BellFoundation: 8. Exposure by Wilfred Owen:
war_poets: 21 March 1917 Wilfred Owen writes to his mother ‘I am miserably in want of Books, not to say Letters ... One of the sisters brought me some novels, about as palatable as warm water to a starving jaguar’
Prof_Cooper: Join us for some poetry of the Great War as we celebrate Wilfred Owen's birthday!
waterloobot: p.s. wilfred owen to siegfried sassoon—1917:
And you have fixed my Life—however short. You did not light me: I was always a mad comet; but you have fixed me.
9/25/20 3:21 AM
siellosvieran: "Foreheads of men have bled where no wounds were.
I am the enemy you killed, my friend."
"Strange Meeting"
Wilfred Owen
siellosvieran: "All a poet can do today is warn."
Wilfred Owen
(1893-1918)
CritReadings: CR Episode 167: The Poetry of Wilfred Owen
muses98: Happy Birthday to Wilfred Owen, born 1893.
hayfestival: “All a poet can do today is warn.”
– Wilfred Owen, born on this day in 1893.
Vilsjin: Dulce et Decorum Est by Wilfred Owen | Poetry Foundation
Teresia87360531: I dreamed kind Jesus fouled the big-gun gears, and caused a permanent stoppage in all bolts, and buckled with a smile Mausers and Colts, and rusted every bayonet with His tears.,Wilfred Owen, The Poems Of Wilfred Owen,dream, jesus, war
I_am_Jim_Grant: He mixes in quotes from Jim Grant and Wilfred Owen.
What a DJ!
LauraMa12377039: Always loved Wilfred Owen
GeorgeGaldorisi: Today is the 130th anniversary of the birth of English "war poet" Wilfred (Edward Salter) Owen (1893-1918), whose verse forms much of the text of the celebrated War Requiem of Benjamin Britten.
johnsimkin: On this day in 1893 the war poet Wilfred Owen was born
ZolH: WW1 poet Wilfred Owen was born 18 March 1893 and killed in action in 1918.
In STRANGE MEETING, two soldiers meet in Hell, the first having killed the second in battle. “I am the enemy you killed, my friend.”
RayBoomhower: “What passing bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifle's rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.”
Wilfred Owen, born on this day in 1893
pauljimerson: Birthday of poet Wilfred Owen, b Shropshire (1893). His family was well-off, living in a house owned by his grandfather. But then his grandpa died, & it turned out that the old man was broke, and the family had to leave and move into working-class lodgings in an industrial town.
wherrypilgrim: "Out there, we've walked quite friendly up to Death;
Sat down and eaten with him, cool and bland..."
From "The Next War," by Wilfred Owen, born 18 March 1896. Full poem here:
DurhamWASP: All a poet can do today is warn.
Wilfred Owen, born 18th March 1893
tonytaxfraud: <--- do NOT ask him about siegfried sassoon and wilfred owen
HistoryWarUK: Wilfred Owen – the most famous poet of the First World War – was born 130 years ago today. He was killed in action on 4th November 1918 seven days before the war's end.
WirralLibraries: Wilfred Edward Slater Owen was born on this day in 1893. He lived in Tranmere with his family between 1898 and 1907 and attended the Birkenhead Institute.
Head to Birkenhead Central Library to see the Wilfred Owen window & associated displays to commemorate this great poet!
FXMC1957: 18 March 1893. Poet Wilfred Owen was born in Oswestry. He was one of the leading poets of the First World War. His war poetry on the horrors of the trenches included Dulce et Decorum est, Insensibility, Anthem for Doomed Youth and Futility.
WilfredOwenAssn: In a strange twist of fate, Wilfred Owen shared his birthday with Jessie Pope BOTD in 1868. Pope was the original dedicatee of ‘Dulce et Decorum Est’:
revsandy01: When I was in secondary school I remember being entranced by Wilfred Owen's poems and his willingness to be a clear voice on the nature of modern war, its costs and the lies it relies upon to flourish.
OptimoPrincipi: Wilfred Owen was born on this day in 1893.
In 1918 - the final year of his life - he would distil the entire absurdity of war into his devastating short poem 'The Last Laugh'...
war_poets: 17 March 1918 Wilfred Owen visits Fountains Abbey in Yorkshire.
NewYorkSun: Wilfred Owen’s poems constitute the output of a brief adulthood entirely consumed by the consciousness of war, in a generation of men who would be utterly devoured, as a demographic, by that war.
e61887: Flying is the only active profession I would ever continue with enthusiasm after the War.,Wilfred Owen,Flying, Enthusiasm ,
NathanFrancis__: What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
Poems:
war_poets: 16 March 1918 Wilfred Owen writes to his mother from hospital in Ripon ‘I was put into sheets stippled with somebody’s blood, and blankets caked with mud, like a cow’s flank. The Doctor has just been in. He says this fever has no connection with previous fevers of mine'
TophatGeo: The Piper was great at providing a personal connection to its story about Wilfred Owen.
Vampire Hunter left enough of the threads hanging to make you hungry to find out more on Herbert's stories.
Dreamer feels like it'll have massive implications to the overarching plot
war_poets: 15 March 1918 Wilfred Owen writes ‘I am now in an Isolation Hut, sweating under Army Blankets… a staggering headache came on yesterday, accompanied by pains in limbs, sore throat, fever etc. etc. It’s not influenza, and I am very much better today'
GLONG61029374: Wilfred Owen makes a good argument for transportability in a 2016 RUSI Journal article...see attched
JHS_Reader: Very happy to add 2 new prints to my collection from Denis May, based on the poetry of Wilfred Owen.
herdyshepherd1: Undertones of War - Blunden
Testament to Youth - Brittain
To the Slaughterhouse - Giono
Storm of Steel - Junger
All Quiet on the Western Front - E M Remarque
Memoir of a Fox Hunting Man - S Sassoon
Farewell to Arms - Hemingway
Penguin Book of WW1 poetry
Poems of Wilfred Owen
RelaxArtWorld: Dulce et Decorum Est by Wilfred Owen (subtitled) ▶️
war_poets: 13 March 1917 In Le Quesnoy-en-Santerre, Wilfred Owen gropes his way through pitch darkness but falls down a shell-hole and is hospitalised.
WilfredOwenAssn: THIS SATURDAY, 18 March: Dr Neil McLennan will be giving the 2023 Wilfred Owen Birthday Lecture, 7-8.30pm. Sign-up for this free online event:
carruthers_jude: Escape? There is one unwatched way: your eyes. O Beauty! Keep me good that secret gate.,Wilfred Owen, The Poems Of Wilfred Owen,beauty, escape, eyes, gate, secret, war,
s_birrell: Dulce et Decorum Est by Wilfred Owen | Poetry Foundation
war_poets: 12 March 1918 Wilfred Owen is at the Officers Command Depot in Ripon ‘An awful Camp—huts—dirty blankets—in fact WAR once more. Farewell Books, Sonnets, Letters, friends, fires, oysters, antique-shops. Training again!’
Osmotheque78000: Dulce et Decorum Est by Wilfred Owen | Poetry Foundation “ The Old Lie”
LaoBubble147: I dreamed kind Jesus fouled the big-gun gears, and caused a permanent stoppage in all bolts, and buckled with a smile Mausers and Colts, and rusted every bayonet with His tears.,Wilfred Owen, The Poems Of Wilfred Owen,dream, jesus, war
war_poets: 11 March 1917 Wilfred Owen writes to his mother ‘I have just been sweating along a dangerous road to a factory where there is a shower bath. There was no water today! I sweated some more coming back’
war_poets: 11 March 1918 Wilfred Owen writes to his mother ‘Just heard I’ve got to go to Northern Command Depôt Ripon—as a result of my last Medical Board. There I shall do physical drill and so on, till I am quite fit. Not a bad idea even if I be demobilized'
JMFoywriter: “Wilfred Owen” Poem by J M Foy ©
DAZZL1NGLIGHT: Some of my favourites are:
▪︎Birdshooting season- Olive Senior
▪︎This is the dark time my love- Martin Carter
▪︎(honorable mention) It is the constant image of your face- Dennis Brutus
▪︎Dulce et decorum est- Wilfred Owen
etugang17: Through the dense din, I say, we heard him shoutI see your lights! But ours had long died out.,Wilfred Owen, Poems,history, war,
war_poets: 9 March 1917 Wilfred Owen writes 'in charge of a party of Dug-Out Diggers. It is a soft job. I take the men up sometimes by day, sometimes by night, so that (as today) I lie snug in my blankets till lunchtime.’
massolit: Later still, the man’s hair is described as “blackthorns”, which evokes barbed wire partly in its own right – both have ‘thorns’ – but also via Wilfred Owen’s description of barbed wire as “brambles” in ‘Exposure’.
Wycliff58698611: My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity.,Wilfred Owen,Poetry, Pity, Subject ,
cassin43mnjw: The Collected Poems of Wilfred Owen (New Directions Book) MXYWC3C
DavidBaskinBWM: My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
Wilfred Owen
GCSE_Macbeth: A revision quiz and essay on Exposure, by me. When you sign up to Brillder you can set this for your students for free.
Exposure is a challenging poem and we really tried to nail the techniques, psychology and context here.
LilacsLasting: it’s war poetry…she asked about wilfred owen
themagnusbot: Statement of Staff Sergeant Clarence Berry, regarding his time serving with Wilfred Owen in the Great War.
Waseem_alyamani: “Escape? There is one unwatched way: your eyes…
Wilfred Owen.
war_poets: 5 March 1915 Wilfred Owen writes ‘I have my foothold, bold as any, kept for years. A boy, I guessed that the fullest, largest liveable life was that of a Poet. I know it now; […] My heart is ready, but my brain unprepared, and my hand untrained. And all, - untested.’
war_poets: 5 March 1918 Wilfred Owen writes to his mother ‘I resolutely forget the anniversaries of last year’s miseries. I have now, I think, nothing positive to complain of!’
CollettWriter: A little series of 3 poems - all examples of the delivery of cold fury - towards royal power, the patriarchy or the myth of the glory of war, starting with the latter & a poem that first blew me away in my early teens:
Wilfred Owen - Dulce et Decorum Est
profontheright: Think how it wakes the seeds—
Woke once the clays of a cold star.
Are limbs, so dear-achieved, are sides
Full-nerved, still warm, too hard to stir?
Was it for this the clay grew tall?
—O what made fatuous sunbeams toil
To break earth's sleep at all?
“Futility,” Wilfred Owen
PaulClark_UTV: A member of the same regiment as Wilfred Owen…
TravellingLite2: Dulce et Decorum Est by Wilfred Owen | Poetry Foundation
war_poets: 3 March 1916 Harold Monro comments on Wilfred Owen’s poetry ‘up comes Monro to my room, with my MSS! So we sit down, and I have the time of my life. For he was ‘very struck’ with these sonnets’. He went over the things in detail and he told me what was fresh and clever'
purpledhawk: aisha robinson, the more loving one by wilfred owen
war_poets: 2 March 1917 Wilfred Owen writes to his mother ‘I hear you have seen the illusory War Films. … Did you see any Red X at the Front? Under no circumstances do we! A good half of their work is done by S. Bearers of our own Corps.’
HalfdanVB: It reminds me of the beautifully melancholic poem by Wilfred Owen, "Dulce et Decorum Est".
There is, however, an exception to this value of mine, and that is if you defend your people on your land (the country) from those who wish you harm.
war_poets: 1 March 1917 Wilfred Owen writes ‘this is a glorious part of the Line, new to us, and indeed, to the English (sh!) Most comfortable dug-outs, grass fields, woods, sunshine, quiet. True we are in reserve today, but I hear the very front line is a line, and a quiet one.’
massolit: To demonstrate what I mean, I want to first go back to a poem we explored a couple of threads ago – Wilfred Owen’s ‘Exposure’.
In this poem, if you recall, we encountered a couple of similes whose vehicles were unable to escape the world of war.
massolit: This use of half-rhyme is another way in which Hughes cleaves quite closely to the poetry of Wilfred Owen.
massolit: Indeed, even the fact that Hughes is writing about the First World War – a war that ended over a decade before he was born – might be presented in terms of the influence of Wilfred Owen, who actually fought (and died) in that war.
Aiming_Circle: - NEW: Army PME Journal Launches On-Line Venue for Literary Shorts
- Horror Press Calls for Poems Inspired by Wilfred Owen
4/4
BL_Learning: Thrilled to have added Owen's draft of 'Exposure' to our website!
RProsperolane: Wilfred Owen - A Biography of World War I Soldier / Poet by Jon Stallworthy, Illustrated Paperback Book
YoungerHegelian: E.g.: the great English poet Wilfred Owen, definitely one of the most talented writers of his generation, was killed on November 4, 1918 — exactly what one week before the armistice ended hostilities (at least on the Western front).
ValerioRe12: Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes,
Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes.
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of silent minds,
And each dusk a drawing-down of blinds
(Wilfred Owen, in Britten's War Requiem)
