Blackberry Pickin’

His father, Patrick, was a farmer and his parents died when Seamus was a very young boy. Seamus went to a Catholic boarding school for his school years. His brother was killed in a road accident when Seamus was away at school. In 1995 he won the Nobel Prize for poetry. He still lives in Dublin, Ireland.

There was a sunlit absence. The helmeted pump in the yard heated its iron, water honeyed in the slung bucket and the sun stood like a griddle cooling against the wall of each long afternoon. So, her hands scuffled over the bakeboard, the reddening stove sent its plaque of heat against her where she stood in a floury apron by the window. Now she dusts the board with a goose's wing, now sits, broad-lapped, with whitened nails and measling shins: here is a space again, the scone rising to the tick of two clocks. And here is love like a tinsmith's scoop sunk past its gleam in the meal-bin.

Theme I: Slow Passage of Time Theme II: Movements and Actions within house Theme III: Preservation of childhood memories Theme IV: Imagery used to create a laid back calm setting. Theme V: Love and Affection through baking

Late August, given heavy rain and sun for a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for picking. Then red ones inked up and that hunger sent us out with milk-cans, pea-tins, jam-pots where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills we trekked and picked until the cans were full, until the tinkling bottom had been covered with green ones, and on top big dark blobs burned like a plate of eyes. Our hands were peppered with thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard's. We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre. But when the bath was filled we found a fur, A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache. The juice was stinking too. Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour. I always felt like crying. It wasn't fair that all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot. Each year I hoped they'd keep, knew they would not.

list the things you “see” in the “I see...” column of the handout. The phrase “glossy purple clot” presents a very vivid image, so you included it on your sheet. Do not worry about THEME at this point!! Just list words and phrases that seem STRIKING TO YOU.

Take the items in your list and “lump” them into categories under the “Lumping” heading in the right column. For instance, the poem contains numerous references to decay, so next to number 1, write “decay” as a category and beneath it you might list “rat grey fungus,” “fermented,” and “smelt of rot” as supporting specifics.

When examining a poem’s details, diction, and imagery, a reader should also examine the poem’s pattern. “Blackberry-Picking,” for instance, is divided into two stanzas. The first stanza contains specifics related to ripeness, blood, and lust, as the speaker describes the act of blackberry picking, while the second stanza contains specifics related to decay, sadness, and loss, as the speaker describes what happens to their bounty. Note that there is a definite shift in tone between the two stanzas.

Why is the first stanza longer than the second? Does the poem have a rhyme scheme? If so, what is it and what is its significance? Do you notice any sound devices? Alliteration? Assonance? Consonance? What is the significance of the devices your identify?

“Summary of the Text,” write your theme statement. Remember, a theme should be stated in a complete thought, not a single word. Example: Love is Blind Now, create a Literary Graffitti picture using the imagery you have drawn from the poem. You may include phrases from the poem.

You have just explicated your very first poem!!