Celebrating the Spoken Word: "Digging" (Seamus Heaney)

Seamus Heaney, who died in 2013, was considered the greatest Irish poet since William Butler Yeats. I first heard him on BBC Radio when I was teaching English at Hong Kong Baptist College in the early 1980s. In the video below, he reads his poem, "Digging."

-

Poetry Out Loud

During the month of April, in celebration of National Poetry Month, I highlighted poetry as an oral art form – the spoken word delivered to an audience. I noted that “the speaking and the hearing of poetry have always been central to its beauty and its effect upon people.”

Throughout the month, I shared video presentations of poets reading or reciting their works as well as other people reading the works of poets. I was able to share oral presentations of nine poets from diverse backgrounds. There were well over 1,000 views of those blog posts. The work of local spoken word artist Michael Harriot, “My Mama's So Black” received the most views, followed closely by Helen Mirren's reading of Tennyson's “Ulysses.”

All of the presentations seemed to be well received. Particularly effective was Bill Murray's reading of “What the Mirror Said,” by Lucille Clifton, and, of course, Maya Angelou's own presentation of “And Still I Rise.” I was glad to hear some Native American perspective with Joy Harjo's presentation.

Some told me that my reading of “Conscientious Objector,” by Edna St. Vincent Millay, was their first time to even hear about that poem. Others remarked that “Digging,” by Seamus Heaney was their all time favorite poem. One of my favorites was to be able to sit and listen to an evening with Coleman Barks reading from his translations of Rumi.

I am happy to have done some small part in presenting poetry in its oral form, and glad to have introduced some new voices as well as some old favorites to the readers of my blog. Thank you all for taking time to appreciate poetry as a spoken art form this month.

In case you missed any of them, you will find them listed below, with a hyperlink to take you to each presentation.

Coleman Barks Presents Works by Persian Poet, Rumi

Helen Mirren Reads “Ulysses” by Alfred Lord Tennyson

“My Mama’s So Black,” by Michael Harriot

“The Lanyard,” by Billy Collins

“And Still I Rise,” by Maya Angelou

"Nearly Unbearable Grace," the poetry of Joy Harjo, Native American Poet

Bill Murray Reads “What the Mirror Said,” by Lucille Clifton

“Digging,” by Seamus Heaney

Charles Kinnaird Reads “Conscientious Objector,” by Edna St. Vincent Millay

-

"Digging," by Seamus Heaney

Celebrating the Spoken Word

Seamus Heaney, who died in 2013, was considered the greatest Irish poet since William Butler Yeats. I first heard him on BBC Radio when I was teaching English at Hong Kong Baptist College in the early 1980s. In the video below, he reads his poem, "Digging."

-

Remembering Seamus Heaney

On Friday we lost Irish poet, Seamus Heaney, who died in a Dublin hospital at the age of 74. He was considered to be the greatest Irish poet since W.B. Yeats.  The first time I recall hearing about him was in 1981. I was living in Hong Kong and teaching English at Hong Kong Baptist College. One evening I was listening to a fascinating program on BBC radio featuring Seamus Heaney (BBC Radio is one of the best things about the UK). The next day at work I was talking about it. “Oh yes!” a Chinese colleague told me, “He is a well known poet from Ireland.”  From that day onward, I always paid attention when I heard Seamus Heaney mentioned.  I read his poetry, and bought his translation of Beowulf.  Listening to an interview on NPR’s Here and Now, I heard Robert Pensky, former, U.S. poet laureate, remembering his friend and saying that not only was he a good poet, he was a good and generous man as well. (you can catch that interview here)

Here is a poem by Seamus Heaney that was featured in America magazine a few years back:

Postscript

by Seamus Heaney

And some time make the time to drive out west
Into County Clare, along the Flaggy Shore,
In September or October, when the wind
And the light are working off each other
So that the ocean on one side is wild
With foam and glitter, and inland among stones
The surface of a slate-grey lake is lit
By the earthed lightening of flock of swans,
Their feathers roughed and ruffling, white on white,
Their fully-grown headstrong-looking heads
Tucked or cresting or busy underwater.
Useless to think you'll park or capture it
More thoroughly. You are neither here nor there,
A hurry through which known and strange things pass
As big soft buffetings come at the car sideways
And catch the heart off guard and blow it open.

*