August favourites #2: War Poem

August 2, 2018

I’m doing something different for the holiday month of August, writing about some of my favourites: poems, plays, music, art and other things, a short piece on a different topic each day. The categories are random, as are the choices within them, meaning that’s my favourite that day, and is subject to change… And I will try and explain why each choice is special for me. As always, I look forward to your comments.

Wilfred Owen: Disabled

There’s a full-length post and the text of the poem here.

Again, I have met so many war poems – lyrical, angry, satirical, in your face, you name it – and I always come back to this one of Owen’s, which seems to me to encapsulate so much. At nineteen, one is immortal; to be immortal and reduced to the state of Owen’s character is too bitter and cruel to contemplate. In the poem he sums up forever, for me, the utter pointlessness and waste of war, in a world where old and shrivelled men compel younger and fitter ones who haven’t had the chance to enjoy life yet, to be maimed and killed, and sentence their families to years of sadness and irretrievable loss.

4 Responses to “August favourites #2: War Poem”


  1. Very poignant, although A.E.Housman’s ‘Here dead we lie’ remains my favourite war poem.

    Like

    • litgaz Says:

      Thank you for introducing me to one I did not know! Just looked it up. It is sometimes astonishing how much a poet can convey in very few words…

      Like

  2. kirstwrites Says:

    This one is overshadowed by Dulce et Decorum/ Anthem for Doomed Youth, isn’t it? But it’s incredibly powerful. That almost petulant frustration in the last line… so powerful.

    Like


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