Michael J Sheridan on Spoutible

Dulce et Decorum Est
by Wilfred Owen
#WorldPoetryDay

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our 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.—
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corr...

Professor Kyle @blackcatprose

Thanks to @apfel_sarah I know it's World Poetry Day! How about sharing some of your favorite poems? You could link, thread, or screenshot (if the latter, please use alt text! 🙂).
10:00 PM - Mar 20, 2024

11:57 PM - Mar 20, 2024

hmmwrites (Heather's version)

@hmmwrites

In response to Michael J Sheridan.

Another truly great choice. This one hits hard.

01:29 AM - Mar 21, 2024

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