1. “Exposure”
by Wilfred Owen
Chelsea Ejankowski
Anna Fitzpatrick
Gabrielle Heinrich

2. 1Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds 21Pale flakes with fingering stealth come feeling for
that knive us...
2Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent... our faces
3Low, drooping flares confuse our memory of the 22We cringe in holes, back on forgotten dreams, and
salient... stare, snow-dazed,
4Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, 23Deep into grassier ditches. So we drowse, sun-
nervous,
5But nothing happens. dozed,
24Littered with blossoms trickling where the blackbird
6Watching, we hear the mad gusts tugging on the fusses,
wire, 7Like twitching agonies of men among its 25Is it that we are dying?
brambles.
8Northward, incessantly, the flickering gunnery
rumbles, 26Slowly our ghosts drag home: glimpsing the sunk
9Far off, like a dull rumour of some other war. fires, glozed
10What are we doing here? 27With crusted dark-red jewels; crickets jingle there;
28For hours the innocent mice rejoice: the house is
11The poignant misery of dawn begins to grow... theirs;
12We only know war lasts, rain soaks, and clouds sag
stormy. 29Shutters and doors, all closed: on us the doors are
13Dawn massing in the east her melancholy army closed,
14Attacks once more in ranks on shivering ranks of 30We turn back to our dying.
gray,
15But nothing happens.
31Since we believe not otherwise can kind fires burn;
16Sudden successive flights of bullets streak the 32Nor ever suns smile true on child, or field, or fruit.
silence. 33For God's invincible spring our love is made afraid;
17Less deathly than the air that shudders black with 34Therefore, not loath, we lie out here; therefore were
snow,
18With sidelong flowing flakes that flock, pause, and born,
renew; 35For love of God seems dying.
19We watch them wandering up and down the wind's
nonchalance,
20But nothing happens. 36To-night, this frost will fasten on this mud and us,
37Shrivelling many hands, puckering foreheads crisp.
38The burying-party, picks and shovels in shaking
grasp,
39Pause over half-known faces. All their eyes are ice,
40But nothing happens.

3. Title
Before reading the poem, we can assume the meaning,
with what we know about Wilfred Owen…
 Wilfred Owen fought in World War 1. Therefore the
war had a very heavy impact on his poetry.
 Throughout the hardships of the war, the soldiers
became “exposed” to ongoing violence, as well as
severe hardships.
 We can safely assume, by looking at the title, that this
poem will be about the hardships the men were
exposed to on a regular basis, during the war.

4. We can see this by observing the first person
narrative used throughout the poem.
1Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knive us...
2Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent...
3Low, drooping flares confuse our memory of the salient...
4Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, nervous,
5But nothing happens.

5. Occasion- The reader can see that the poem begins in the night, and shows a
progressive movement of time towards day, with the speaker thinking of the night
to come. This gives the poem a “circular formation”. It ends exactly the way it
began. We can also deduce that the weather the men are experiencing is
incredibly cold. The reader can see the misery the men are facing as totally
endless… Even as the days change, their predicament does not.
 Movement from night to day:
Stanza 1 line 2:
“Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent...”
Stanza 3 line 1:
“The poignant misery of dawn begins to grow...”
Stanza 8 line 1:
“To-night, this frost will fasten on this mud and us,”

6. Diction: The repetition of “s” sounds mimics the sound of the wind
mentioned throughout the poem. This use of cacophony allows the
reader to better understand the sound of winter heard by the soldiers.
 11The poignant misery of dawn begins to grow...
12We only know war lasts, rain soaks, and clouds sag stormy.
13Dawn massing in the east her melancholy army
14Attacks once more in ranks on shivering ranks of gray,
15But nothing happens.
 16Sudden successive flights of bullets streak the silence.
17Less deathly than the air that shudders black with snow,
18With sidelong flowing flakes that flock, pause, and renew;
19We watch them wandering up and down the wind's nonchalance,
20But nothing happens.
 21Pale flakes with fingering stealth come feeling for our faces
22We cringe in holes, back on forgotten dreams, and stare, snow-dazed,
23Deep into grassier ditches. So we drowse, sun-dozed,
24Littered with blossoms trickling where the blackbird fusses,
25Is it that we are dying?

7. Imagery : colors sound weather sleep death human traits
1Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that 21Pale flakes with fingering stealth come feeling for our
knive us... faces
2Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent... 22We cringe in holes, back on forgotten dreams, and
3Low, drooping flares confuse our memory of the stare, snow-dazed,
salient... 23Deep into grassier ditches. So we drowse, sun-
4Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, dozed,
nervous, 24Littered with blossoms trickling where the blackbird
5But nothing happens. fusses,
25Is it that we are dying?
6Watching, we hear the mad gusts tugging on the
wire, 7Like twitching agonies of men among its 26Slowly our ghosts drag home: glimpsing the sunk
brambles. fires, glozed
8Northward, incessantly, the flickering gunnery 27With crusted dark-red jewels; crickets jingle there;
rumbles, 28For hours the innocent mice rejoice: the house is
9Far off, like a dull rumour of some other war. theirs;
10What are we doing here? 29Shutters and doors, all closed: on us the doors are
closed,
11The poignant misery of dawn begins to grow... 30We turn back to our dying.
12We only know war lasts, rain soaks, and clouds sag
stormy. 31Since we believe not otherwise can kind fires burn;
13Dawn massing in the east her melancholy army 32Nor ever suns smile true on child, or field, or fruit.
14Attacks once more in ranks on shivering ranks of 33For God's invincible spring our love is made afraid;
gray, 34Therefore, not loath, we lie out here; therefore were
15But nothing happens. born,
35For love of God seems dying.
16Sudden successive flights of bullets streak the
silence. 36To-night, this frost will fasten on this mud and us,
17Less deathly than the air that shudders black with 37Shrivelling many hands, puckering foreheads crisp.
snow, 38The burying-party, picks and shovels in shaking
18With sidelong flowing flakes that flock, pause, and grasp,
renew; 39Pause over half-known faces. All their eyes are ice,
19We watch them wandering up and down the wind's 40But nothing happens.
nonchalance,
20But nothing happens.

8. Literary Allusions
 “1Our brains ache…” echoes “My heart aches”, the
very first words of “Ode to a Nightingale” by Keates, a
favorite poet of Owen.
 Song by Ivor Novello: “Keep the home fires burning….
Though our lads are faraway they dream of home.”
 28For hours the innocent mice rejoice: the house is theirs;
29Shutters and doors, all closed: on us the doors are closed,
30We turn back to our dying.
 26Slowly our ghosts drag home: glimpsing the sunk fires, glozed
27With crusted dark-red jewels
Merryn Williams, 1993 and 1999

9. Figurative Language: alliteration personification simile
1Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that 21Pale flakes with fingering stealth come feeling for our
knive us... faces
2Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent... 22We cringe in holes, back on forgotten dreams, and
3Low, drooping flares confuse our memory of the stare, snow-dazed,
salient... 23Deep into grassier ditches. So we drowse, sun-
4Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, dozed,
nervous, 24Littered with blossoms trickling where the blackbird
5But nothing happens. fusses,
25Is it that we are dying?
6Watching, we hear the mad gusts tugging on the wire,
7Like twitching agonies of men among its brambles. 26Slowly our ghosts drag home: glimpsing the sunk
8Northward, incessantly, the flickering gunnery fires, glozed
rumbles, 27With crusted dark-red jewels; crickets jingle there;
9Far off, like a dull rumour of some other war. 28For hours the innocent mice rejoice: the house is
10What are we doing here? theirs;
29Shutters and doors, all closed: on us the doors are
11The poignant misery of dawn begins to grow... closed,
12We only know war lasts, rain soaks, and clouds sag 30We turn back to our dying.
stormy.
13Dawn massing in the east her melancholy army 31Since we believe not otherwise can kind fires burn;
14Attacks once more in ranks on shivering ranks of 32Nor ever suns smile true on child, or field, or fruit.
gray, 33For God's invincible spring our love is made afraid;
15But nothing happens. 34Therefore, not loath, we lie out here; therefore were
born,
16Sudden successive flights of bullets streak the silence. 35For love of God seems dying.
17Less deathly than the air that shudders black with
snow, 36To-night, this frost will fasten on this mud and us,
18With sidelong flowing flakes that flock, pause, and 37Shrivelling many hands, puckering foreheads crisp.
renew; 38The burying-party, picks and shovels in shaking
19We watch them wandering up and down the wind's grasp,
nonchalance, 39Pause over half-known faces. All their eyes are ice,
20But nothing happens. 40But nothing happens.

10. Tone- throughout the poem, the reader can see
religious connections…
 The psychological force keeping the men there
parallels hanging on a cross.
 Line 7 shows the possibility of dying for others:
7 “Like twitching agonies of men among its brambles.”
 Other quotes…
33 “For God's invincible spring our love is made afraid”
35 “For love of God seems dying.”
The presence of God and the suffering of soldiers in comparison to the
suffering of Jesus Christ, is apparent in the poem.
Merryn Williams, 1993 and 1999

11. Syntax
1Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that 21Pale flakes with fingering stealth come feeling for our
knive us... faces
2Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent... 22We cringe in holes, back on forgotten dreams, and
3Low, drooping flares confuse our memory of the stare, snow-dazed,
salient... 23Deep into grassier ditches. So we drowse, sun-
4Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, dozed,
nervous, 24Littered with blossoms trickling where the blackbird
5But nothing happens. fusses,
25Is it that we are dying?
6Watching, we hear the mad gusts tugging on the wire,
7Like twitching agonies of men among its brambles. 26Slowly our ghosts drag home: glimpsing the sunk
8Northward, incessantly, the flickering gunnery fires, glozed
rumbles, 27With crusted dark-red jewels; crickets jingle there;
9Far off, like a dull rumour of some other war. 28For hours the innocent mice rejoice: the house is
10What are we doing here? theirs;
29Shutters and doors, all closed: on us the doors are
closed,
11The poignant misery of dawn begins to grow... 30We turn back to our dying.
12We only know war lasts, rain soaks, and clouds sag
stormy.
13Dawn massing in the east her melancholy army 31Since we believe not otherwise can kind fires burn;
14Attacks once more in ranks on shivering ranks of 32Nor ever suns smile true on child, or field, or fruit.
gray, 33For God's invincible spring our love is made afraid;
15But nothing happens. 34Therefore, not loath, we lie out here; therefore were
born,
35For love of God seems dying.
16Sudden successive flights of bullets streak the silence.
17Less deathly than the air that shudders black with
snow, 36To-night, this frost will fasten on this mud and us,
18With sidelong flowing flakes that flock, pause, and 37Shrivelling many hands, puckering foreheads crisp.
renew; 38The burying-party, picks and shovels in shaking
19We watch them wandering up and down the wind's grasp,
nonchalance, 39Pause over half-known faces. All their eyes are ice,
20But nothing happens. 40But nothing happens.

12. Rhyme
 End stop line
There is punctuation at the end of almost every line.
 Slant rhyme
In an abbac pattern, the lines end with words that
sound similar, but do not actually rhyme.
6Watching, we hear the mad gusts tugging on the wire,
7Like twitching agonies of men among its brambles.
8Northward, incessantly, the flickering gunnery rumbles,
9Far off, like a dull rumour of some other war.
10What are we doing here?

13. Purpose
After studying the poem, we know that it was written to
counter the propaganda created by various
governments to portray the war as a great and noble
cause. This is a very popular theme with many of
Wilfred Owen’s other poems.

14. Title Revisited….
We now see that the title “Exposure” has dual
meanings:
 The men are being “exposed” to harsh weather
conditions and violence.
 Wilfred Owen has “exposed” the truth about the
nakedness and vulnerability the soldiers are feeling
while fighting. The war is not as glorified as many
have made it out to be.