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War Poetry. LO: to commence our unit of War Poetry. Discuss:. An unjust peace is better than a just war. All wars are civil wars, because all men are brothers. All war is deception. . Why write poetry?. What emotions would one feel at war? Why might someone write poetry on war? - PowerPoint PPT Presentation

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War Poetry

War PoetryLO: to commence our unit of War Poetry.

Discuss:An unjust peace is better than a just war. All wars are civil wars, because all men are brothers. All war is deception.

Why write poetry?What emotions would one feel at war?Why might someone write poetry on war?Effects of war?What is war?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e4CIHL1chyAhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s48SPvy_0QQFutility by Wilfred Owen Move him into the sun -Gently its touch awoke him once,At home, whispering of fields unsown.Always it woke him, even in France,Until this morning and this snow.If anything might rouse him nowThe kind old sun will know.

Think how it wakes the seeds -Woke, once, the clays of a cold star.Are limbs so dear-achieved, are sidesFull-nerved, - still warm, - too hard to stir?Was it for this the clay grew tall?- O what made fatuous sunbeams toilTo break earth's sleep at all?

Wilfred Owen

Images in PoetryLO: to understand some of the images in poetry and to try to create what they image is telling you.Challenging:Language of a poemHow to create a poemStructure of a poem

Listening to music and staying awake?!!

Imagery in Poetry One of the objectives of a successful poem is to create pictures into the mind of the reader of important images and issues they want to convey. The imagery in war poetry is very important as they want the reader to understand the suffering they have witnessed and experienced.

Look at the poems and choose one you connect with.

Using some plain paper, draw some of the images you find have an impact on you, or that you think the poet is trying to make you see.

You can either do one large picture, or several small images, dotting words or lines around your picture/s from the poem to show what you are illustrating.

In Flanders FieldsIn Flanders fields the poppies blowBetween the crosses, row on rowThat mark our place; and in the skyThe larks, still bravely singing, flyScarce hear amid the guns below.We are the Dead. Short days agoWe lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,Loved and were loved, and now we lieIn Flanders fields.Take up our quarrel with the foe:To you from failing hands we throwThe torch; be yours to hold it high.If ye break faith with us who dieWe shall not sleep, though poppies growIn Flanders Fields.John McCraeAnthem for Doomed Youth What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?- Only the monstrous anger of the guns.Only the stuttering rifles rapid rattleCan patter out their hasty orisons.No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;And bugles calling for them from sad shires.What candles may be held to speed them all?Not in the hands of boys but in their eyesShall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.The pallor of girls brows shall be their pall?Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,And each show dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

Wilfred Owen The Falling Leaves November 1915 Today, as I rode by,I saw the brown leaves dropping from their treeIn a still afternoon,When no wind whirled them whistling to the sky,But thickly, silently,They fell, like snowflakes wiping out the noon;And wandered slowly thenceFor thinking of a gallant multitudeWhich now all withering lay,Slain by no wind of age or pestilence,But in their beauty strewedLike snowflakes falling on the Flemish clay.Margaret Postgate Cole

Images in poetryLO: to understand some poetry techniques;: to find examples of them in a poemSuicide in the TrenchesI knew a simple soldier boyWho grinned at life in empty joy,Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,And whistled early with the lark.In winter trenches, cowed and glum,With crumps and lice and lack of rum,He put a bullet through his brain.No one spoke of him again.***You smug-faced crowds with kindling eyeWho cheer when soldier lads march by,Sneak home and prey youll never knowThe hell where youth and laughter go.Seigfried Sasson

AlliterationThe strong rhythm to this poem makes it sound like a Nursery rhyme.Images in poetryLO: to find examples of poetic techniques in Dolce et Decorum est;To explain the effect of the techniques in the poems.DULCE ET DECORUM ESTBent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares(2) we turned our backs And towards our distant rest(3) 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(4) Of tired, outstripped(5) Five-Nines(6) that dropped behind.Gas!(7) Gas! Quick, boys! An ecstasy of fumbling, Fitting the clumsy helmets(8) just in time; But someone still was yelling out and stumbling, And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime(9) . . . Dim, through the misty panes(10) 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,(11) 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-corrupted lungs, Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud(12) Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, My friend, you would not tell with such high zest(13) To children ardent(14) for some desperate glory, The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est Pro patria mori.(15) Wilfred Owen8 October 1917 - March, 1918

Notes on Dulce et Decorum Est1. DULCE ET DECORUM EST - the first words of a Latin saying (taken from an ode by Horace). The words were widely understood and often quoted at the start of the First World War. They mean "It is sweet and right." The full saying ends the poem: Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori - it is sweet and right to die for your country. In other words, it is a wonderful and great honour to fight and die for your country.2. Flares - rockets which were sent up to burn with a brilliant glare to light up men and other targets in the area between the front lines (See illustration, page 118 of Out in the Dark.) 3. Distant rest - a camp away from the front line where exhausted soldiers might rest for a few days, or longer4. Hoots - the noise made by the shells rushing through the air5. Outstripped - outpaced, the soldiers have struggled beyond the reach of these shells which are now falling behind them as they struggle away from the scene of battle 6. Five-Nines - 5.9 calibre explosive shells 7. Gas! - poison gas. From the symptoms it would appear to be chlorine or phosgene gas. The filling of the lungs with fluid had the same effects as when a person drowned 8. Helmets - the early name for gas masks 9. Lime - a white chalky substance which can burn live tissue 10. Panes - the glass in the eyepieces of the gas masks 11. Guttering - Owen probably meant flickering out like a candle or gurgling like water draining down a gutter, referring to the sounds in the throat of the choking man, or it might be a sound partly like stuttering and partly like gurgling 12. Cud - normally the regurgitated grass that cows chew usually green and bubbling. Here a similar looking material was issuing from the soldier's mouth13. High zest - idealistic enthusiasm, keenly believing in the rightness of the idea 14. ardent - keen 15. Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori - see note 1 above.

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares(2) we turned our backs And towards our distant rest(3) 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(4) Of tired, outstripped(5) Five-Nines(6) that dropped behind.Gas!(7) Gas! Quick, boys! An ecstasy of fumbling, Fitting the clumsy helmets(8) just in time; But someone still was yelling out and stumbling, And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime(9) . . . Dim, through the misty panes(10) 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,(11) 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-corrupted lungs, Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud(12) Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, My friend, you would not tell with such high zest(13) To children ardent(14) for some desperate glory, The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est Pro patria mori.(15) Wilfred Owen8 October 1917 - March, 1918

Dulce et Decorum estEffect of Poetic TechniquesLO: to understand why poetic techniques are used and the effects that they produce.Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares(2) we turned our backs And towards our distant rest(3) 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(4) Of tired, outstripped(5) Five-Nines(6) that dropped behind.Gas!(7) Gas! Quick, boys! An ecstasy of fumbling, Fitting the clumsy helmets(8) just in time; But someone still was yelling out and stumbling, And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime(9) . . . Dim, through the misty panes(10) 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,(11) 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,

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