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Here. R.S Thomas. I am a man now. Pass your hand over my brow, You can feel the place where the brains grow. I am like a tree, From the top boughs I can see The footprints that led up to me. There is blood in my veins That has run clear of the stain Contracted in so many loins.

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Presentation Transcript
slide1

Here

R.S Thomas

slide2

I am a man now.

Pass your hand over my brow,

You can feel the place where the brains grow.

I am like a tree,

From the top boughs I can see

The footprints that led up to me.

There is blood in my veins

That has run clear of the stain

Contracted in so many loins.

Why, then, are my hands red

With the blood of so many dead?

Is this where I was mislead?

Why are my hands this way

That they will not do as I say?

Does no God here when I pray?

I have no where to go.

The swift satellite show

The clock of my whole being is slow.

It is too late to start

For destinations not of the heart.

I must stay here with my hurt.

background
Background
  • March 29 1913-September 25 2000
  • Died at age 87
  • Welsh
  • An Anglican Clergyman
  • Nationalist
ideas
Ideas
  • War – Our interpretation
  • Jesus – Internet’s interpretation
  • Technology – Songs of Ourselves interpretation
stanza one
Stanza One

I am a man now.

Simple Sentence

Pass your hand over my brow,

Command

You can feel the place where the brains grow

Strong imagery

stanza two
Stanza two

I am like a tree,

Simile

From the top boughs I can see

Personification

The footprints that led up to me.

Looking back

stanza three
Stanza three

There is blood in my veins

That has run clear of the stain

Oxymoron

Contracted in so many loins.

stanza four
Stanza four

Why, then, are my hands red

Punctuation

With the blood of so many dead?

Is this where I was mislead?

stanza five
Stanza five

Why are my hands this way

That they will not do as I say?

Does no God hear when I pray?

Rhetorical Question

stanza six
Stanza six

I have no where to go.

The swift satellite show

Alliteration & Consonance

The clock of my whole being is slow.

Metaphor

stanza seven
Stanza seven

It is too late to start

For destinations not of the heart.

I must stay here with my hurt.

Imperative

rhyme rhythm
Rhyme & Rhythm
  • Tercet - Rhyming triplet: AAA BBB CCC
  • Slow pace
  • Calming – accepted his situation
  • Tone - Somber
comparison
Comparison
  • A Man I Am – Stevie Smith