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- Apologia_Pro_Poemate_Meo abstract ""Apologia Pro Poemate Meo" is a poem by Wilfred Owen. It deals with the atrocities of World War I. The title means "in defence of my poetry" and is often viewed as a rebuttal to a remark in Robert Graves' letter "for God's sake cheer up and write more optimistically - the war's not ended yet but a poet should have a spirit above wars."Alternatively, the poem is seen as a possible response to "Apologia Pro Vita Sua".The poem describes some of the horrors of war and how this leads to a lack of emotion and a desensitisation to death. However the key message of the poem is revealed in the final two stanzas criticizing "you" at home (contemporary readers) for using war propaganda and images as a form of entertainment "These men are worth/ Your tears. You are not worth their merriment".The full poem is as follows:I, too, saw God through mud - The mud that cracked on cheeks when wretches smiled. War brought more glory to their eyes than blood, And gave their laughs more glee than shakes a child.Merry it was to laugh there - Where death becomes absurd and life absurder. For power was on us as we slashed bones bare Not to feel sickness or remorse of murder.I, too, have dropped off fear - Behind the barrage, dead as my platoon, And sailed my spirit surging, light and clear Past the entanglement where hopes lay strewn;And witnessed exultation - Faces that used to curse me, scowl for scowl, Shine and lift up with passion of oblation, Seraphic for an hour; though they were foul.I have made fellowships - Untold of happy lovers in old song. For love is not the binding of fair lips With the soft silk of eyes that look and long,By Joy, whose ribbon slips, - But wound with war's hard wire whose stakes are strong; Bound with the bandage of the arm that drips; Knit in the welding of the rifle-thong.I have perceived much beauty In the hoarse oaths that kept our courage straight; Heard music in the silentness of duty; Found peace where shell-storms spouted reddest spate.Nevertheless, except you share With them in hell the sorrowful dark of hell, Whose world is but the trembling of a flare, And heaven but as the highway for a shell,You shall not hear their mirth: You shall not come to think them well content By any jest of mine. These men are worth Your tears: You are not worth their merriment.".
- Apologia_Pro_Poemate_Meo wikiPageID "25550032".
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- Apologia_Pro_Poemate_Meo subject Category:Poetry_by_Wilfred_Owen.
- Apologia_Pro_Poemate_Meo subject Category:World_War_I_poems.
- Apologia_Pro_Poemate_Meo type Abstraction100002137.
- Apologia_Pro_Poemate_Meo type Communication100033020.
- Apologia_Pro_Poemate_Meo type LiteraryComposition106364329.
- Apologia_Pro_Poemate_Meo type Poem106377442.
- Apologia_Pro_Poemate_Meo type WorldWarIPoems.
- Apologia_Pro_Poemate_Meo type Writing106362953.
- Apologia_Pro_Poemate_Meo type WrittenCommunication106349220.
- Apologia_Pro_Poemate_Meo type Poem.
- Apologia_Pro_Poemate_Meo type Work.
- Apologia_Pro_Poemate_Meo type WrittenWork.
- Apologia_Pro_Poemate_Meo type CreativeWork.
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- Apologia_Pro_Poemate_Meo comment ""Apologia Pro Poemate Meo" is a poem by Wilfred Owen. It deals with the atrocities of World War I.".
- Apologia_Pro_Poemate_Meo label "Apologia Pro Poemate Meo".
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