Disabled Analysis

He sat in a wheeled chair, waiting for dark,
And shivered in his ghastly suit of grey,
Legless, sewn short at elbow.  Through the park
Voices of boys rang saddening like a hymn,
Voices of play and pleasure after day,
Till gathering sleep had mothered them from him.

About this time Town used to swing so gay
When glow-lamps budded in the light-blue trees
And girls glanced lovelier as the air grew dim,
-- In the old times, before he threw away his knees.
Now he will never feel again how slim
Girls' waists are, or how warm their subtle hands,
All of them touch him like some queer disease.

There was an artist silly for his face,
For it was younger than his youth, last year.
Now he is old; his back will never brace;
He's lost his colour very far from here,
Poured it down shell-holes till the veins ran dry,
And half his lifetime lapsed in the hot race,
And leap of purple spurted from his thigh.
One time he liked a bloodsmear down his leg,
After the matches carried shoulder-high.
It was after football, when he'd drunk a peg,
He thought he'd better join.  He wonders why . . .
Someone had said he'd look a god in kilts.

That's why; and maybe, too, to please his Meg,
Aye, that was it, to please the giddy jilts,
He asked to join.  He didn't have to beg;
Smiling they wrote his lie; aged nineteen years.
Germans he scarcely thought of; and no fears
Of Fear came yet.  He thought of jewelled hilts
For daggers in plaid socks; of smart salutes;
And care of arms; and leave; and pay arrears;
Esprit de corps; and hints for young recruits.
And soon, he was drafted out with drums and cheers.

Some cheered him home, but not as crowds cheer Goal.
Only a solemn man who brought him fruits
Thanked him; and then inquired about his soul.
Now, he will spend a few sick years in Institutes,
And do what things the rules consider wise,
And take whatever pity they may dole.
To-night he noticed how the women's eyes
Passed from him to the strong men that were whole.
How cold and late it is!  Why don't they come
And put him into bed?  Why don't they come?

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Contract of his life as a youth, this his life in his metaphoric old age. Language evokes a feeling of depression, isolation, unable to interact with girls/society

| Posted on 2009-11-18 | by Phylo

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Contract of his life as a youth, this his life in his metaphoric old age. Language evokes a feeling of depression, isolation, unable to interact with girls/society

| Posted on 2009-11-18 | by Phylo

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Contrast is used in this poem, between his youth, and his metaphoric old age (still young age). His journey upon returning from war is depressing, he feels isolated.

| Posted on 2009-11-18 | by Phylo

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Contrast is used in this poem, between his youth, and his metaphoric old age (still young age). His journey upon returning from war is depressing, he feels isolated.

| Posted on 2009-11-18 | by Phylo

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This poem is about a Normal Teenage boy who was once looked at by all the girls as very Handsome and popular. He was having fun living a very small part of the normal teenage boy's life untill he went to War thinking it was going to be how people say it is. And as a reult meets the realtiy of war and is put in a weel chair for the rest of his life, with no girls paying not one bit attention to him, no happiness, no friends.. nothing. War has ruind his life together, the only hope he has is for teh next morning to come so he the days can go by and he can slowly and painfully end his life in missery. From Raychel Hughes.

| Posted on 2009-11-10 | by a guest

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i have to do an essay too man! totally don't get it like! but your comments av sorta helped me, its abit confusing tbh!or maby its just me being a dumb ass :P help anyone?.
Laura (Y)

| Posted on 2009-11-08 | by a guest

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i recun this poim is buzzin baht and um all nuttas finkin this poim is good and ah like bruv are propa bums. bad times. the poim is orit lik but i don like war . make love not war. innit blad. peace out.

| Posted on 2009-11-04 | by a guest

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this poem is well hard he goes to war looses his legs and arm comes bk gets no symethy apart from off one man and now people only look at him for pitty and he will never be loved by a girl but only in a motherly way so wats this poem about?:D
alex prescott aka alex press me buzzer.

| Posted on 2009-09-23 | by a guest

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This is a really good poem that shows his life flash before his eyes in a short timeline. It shows that nobody ever thought about the poor guys that were injured from the war, and even though the other soldiers were killed there were probrably better off than this guy.

| Posted on 2009-09-14 | by a guest

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Disabled is essentially a war poem which expresses the dolorous thoughts and recollections of a teenage soldier who lost his limbs at war and is now confined to a wheel chair. It outlines the physical, mental and social consequences of a senseless young boy joining war, believing that a wonderful reward would come his way upon his return. Instead, he is severely injured at war and returns home only to find that he is segregated from society and given little notice and heed to.

| Posted on 2009-08-09 | by a guest

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the poem analysis war and the affect it has on people

| Posted on 2009-06-15 | by a guest

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i am like so totaly lost
i hav to do an essay on it and i dnt hav a clue whhoo go me :)

| Posted on 2009-06-10 | by a guest

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I think those two cretins were being ironic...hopefully

| Posted on 2009-03-26 | by a guest

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This poem is good!! Really conveys the idea of consequences of war!
WY of AL was here!!
DE!

| Posted on 2009-03-06 | by a guest

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The poem basically outlines the physical, mental, and social consequences of an arrogant soldier joining the war, believing that a reward will come there way when at the home-front. You can see that the soldier is socially segregated from society where at the last line "Noticed how the womans eyes passed from him to the strong men that were whole". This also is ironic as woman played a major role of promoting soldiers to enlist for the war, yet he is rejected because of his physical condition.
I could tell more because im learning it at class, but CBF
TSDEWYASCSC

| Posted on 2009-03-05 | by a guest

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And to show us how precious the human life is yet the young man in the poem seemed to not understand that he risked everything to receive some reward. He felt better off dead than being in the situation he is in now.

| Posted on 2009-03-04 | by a guest

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you two have purely butchered the english language in this appalling discussion of one of the greatest poets ever alive! This man wrote many poems saying how bad 'wars n shit' is, however this is only part of the meaning of this play. Owen aimed to show how so many people were prepared to lay down their life in the belief that they would recieve some form of reward- all the reward this poor man recieves is an early bed time and a nurse ;) The life of this man was all but ruined, and Owens aim was to show how poets such as Jessie Pope, who spent their life convincing men were cowards and should fight for their country, were hippocritic bastards who never lifted a finger for the war effort themselves!
Smeage

| Posted on 2009-02-24 | by a guest

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i lke agre mn, dis is helladope nice, owen is lke supr sht, he dus disable n crp lke x

| Posted on 2009-02-11 | by a guest

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errm da poem is well swet! its propa bad like wars n shit, no wa am sayin man?
- grant beveridge

| Posted on 2009-02-06 | by a guest