Wilfred Owen

(1893-1918 / Shropshire / England)

Wilfred Owen Poems

1. Roundel 11/5/2015
2. A Palinode 10/31/2015
3. Sonnet: On Seeing A Piece Of Our Heavy Artillery Brought Into Action 4/1/2010
4. My Shy Hand 4/1/2010
5. On My Songs 4/1/2010
6. Sonnet To My Friend - With An Identity Disc 4/1/2010
7. The Calls [unfinished] 1/1/2004
8. Maundy Thursday 4/1/2010
9. Song Of Songs 4/1/2010
10. Shadwell Stair 4/1/2010
11. O World Of Many Worlds 4/1/2010
12. Antaeus: [a Fragment] 4/1/2010
13. The Calls 1/3/2003
14. On Seeing A Piece Of Our Artillery Brought Into Action 1/3/2003
15. Preface 1/3/2003
16. On Seeing A Piece Of Our Heavy Artillery Brought Into Action 12/31/2002
17. Spells And Incantations 1/3/2003
18. Storm 4/1/2010
19. Training 1/3/2003
20. Red Lips Are Not So Red 1/1/2004
21. Six O'Clock In Princes Street 1/3/2003
22. The Roads Also 1/3/2003
23. The Kind Ghosts 1/3/2003
24. The Unreturning 4/1/2010
25. Music 1/3/2003
26. The Chances 12/31/2002
27. Uriconium: An Ode 1/3/2003
28. Hospital Barge At Cerisy 1/1/2004
29. The Parable Of The Young Man And The Old 1/3/2003
30. Le Christianisme 1/3/2003
31. I Saw His Round Mouth's Crimson 1/3/2003
32. Has Your Soul Sipped? 1/3/2003
33. A Terre (Being The Philosophy Of Many Soldiers) 1/3/2003
34. Hospital Barge 1/3/2003
35. Winter Song 1/3/2003
36. With An Identity Disc 1/3/2003
37. Miners 1/3/2003
38. Smile, Smile, Smile 12/31/2002
39. Beauty: [notes For An Unfinished Poem] 1/1/2004
40. As Bronze May Be Much Beautified 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Wilfred Owen

Dulce Et Decorum Est

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned out backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! - An ecstasy of fumbling
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime.- ...

Read the full of Dulce Et Decorum Est

The Chances

I mind as 'ow the night afore that show
Us five got talking, -- we was in the know,
"Over the top to-morrer; boys, we're for it,
First wave we are, first ruddy wave; that's tore it."
"Ah well," says Jimmy, -- an' 'e's seen some scrappin' --
"There ain't more nor five things as can 'appen;
Ye get knocked out; else wounded -- bad or cushy;
Scuppered; or nowt except yer feeling mushy."

[Report Error]