1. Poetry of World War I

2. During World War I, soldiers gained strength by reading poetry to overcome their hardships. Soldiers read famous war poems by Wilfred Owen and others. Soldiers were also poem writers as they expressed their feelings and extreme emotions through their writing. Their writing included their experiences throughout the war. Writing or reading poems relieved mental stress for the soldiers.

3. Wilfred Owen(1893-1918) "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 our backsAnd towards our distant rest began to trudge.Men marched asleep. Many had lost their bootsBut limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hootsOf tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! -- An ecstasy of fumbling,Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;But someone still was yelling out and stumblingAnd flound'ring like a man in fire or lime . . .Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,As under I 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 paceBehind 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 bloodCome gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cudOf vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, --My friend, you would not tell with such high zestTo children ardent for some desperate glory,The old lie: Dulce et decorum estPro patria mori.

4. In Flanders Fields In Flanders fields the poppies blow      Between the crosses, row on row,   That mark our place; and in the sky   The larks, still bravely singing, flyScarce heard amid the guns below.We are the Dead. Short days agoWe lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,   Loved and were loved, and now we lie         In Flanders fields.Take up our quarrel with the foe:To you from failing hands we throw   The torch; be yours to hold it high.   If ye break faith with us who dieWe shall not sleep, though poppies grow  In Flanders fields.

5. The Dug-Out by Siegfried Sassoon Why do you lie with your legs ungainly huddled,And one arm bent across your sullen, cold,Exhausted face? It hurts my heart to watch you,Deep-shadowed from the candle's guttering gold;And you wonder why I shake you by the shoulder;Drowsy, you mumble and sigh and turn your head . . . .You are too young to fall asleep for ever;And when you sleep you remind me of the dead.

6. The Mad Soldier by E Wyndham Tennant I dropp'd here three weeks ago, yes ~ I know,And it's bitter cold at night, since the fight ~ I could tell you if I chose ~ no one knowsExcep' me and four or five, what ain't aliveI can see them all asleep, three men deep,And they're nowhere near a fire ~ but our wireHas 'em fast as fast can be. Can't you seeWhen the flare goes up? Ssh! Boys; what's that noise?Do you know what these rats eat? Body-meat!After you've been down a week, 'an your cheekGets as pale as life, and night seems as whiteAs the day, only the rats and their bratsSeem more hungry when the day's gone away ~ An' they look as big as bulls, an' they pulls Till you almost sort o' shout ~ but the droughtWhat you hadn't felt before makes you sore.And at times you even think of a drink…There's a leg acrost my thighs ~ if my eyesWeren't too sore, I'd like to see who it be,Wonder if I'd know the bloke if I woke? ~ Woke? By damn, I'm not asleep ~ there's a heapOf us wond'ring why the hell we're not well…Leastways I am ~ since I came it's the sameWith the others ~ they don't know what I do,Or they wouldn't gape and grin. ~ It's a sinTo say that Hell is hot ~ 'cause it's not:Mind you, I know very well we're in hell.~ In a twisted hump we lie ~ heaping highYes! an' higher every day. ~ Oh, I say,This chap's heavy on my thighs ~ damn his eyes.

7. Sources http://www.arlingtoncemetery.net/flanders.htm http://www.poetryarchive.org/poetryarchive/singlePoem.do?poemId=1562 http://www.warpoetry.co.uk/owen1.html http://allpoetry.com/poem/8562127-The_Mad_Soldier-by-E_Wyndham_Tennant http://www.warpoetry.co.uk/