The Theme of Identity in Poetry :: Identity Digging Still I Rise The Barn Essays

The Theme of Identity in PoetryThese three poems are all to do with the theme identity although I specifically distinguish three that contrasted with each other. Digging is portraying the identity of the three generations of jadeging, his father, grandfather and himself. Explain how three poems concerned with developing personality,develop their themesFor this essay I leave behind be choosing three poems, which will help mecompare and contrast how each develop their themes of identity. Thethree I will be choosing are1. Digging in the midst of my finger and my thumbthe squat pen rests snug as a gun.Under my window, a clean rasping soundwhen the spade sinks into gravely domainMy father, digging. I look downtill his straining rump among the flowerbedsBends low, comes up twenty years awayStooping in rhythm through potato drillswhere he was digging.The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaftagainst the inside knee was levered firmly.He rooted out tall tops, buried the gleaming edg e deepto scatter new potatoes that we pickedLoving their cool hardness in our hands.By God the old man could handle a spade. bonnie equivalent his old man.My grandfather cut more turf in a daythan any other man on Toners bog.Once I carried him milk in a bottleCorked sloppily with paper. He straightened upTo drink it, then fell to right awayNicking and slicing neatly, lift sodsOver his shoulder, going down and downFor the good turf. Digging.The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slapof soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edgethrough sustenance roots awaken in my head.But Ive no spade to follow men analogous them.Between my finger and my thumbthe squat pen rests.Ill dig with it.2. Still I riseYou may write me down in historywith your bitter, twisted lies,you may tread me in the very dirt alone still, like dust, Ill rise.Does my sassiness upset you?Why are you beset with gloom?Cause I walk like Ive got oil wellspumping in my living room.Just like moons and like suns,with the c ertainty of tides,just like hopes springing high,still Ill rise.Did you want to see me broken?Bowed head and lowered eyes?Shoulders falling down like teardrops.Weakened by my soulful cries.Does my haughtiness offend you?Dont you take it awful hardCause I laugh like Ive got gold minesDigging in my own keister yard.You may shoot me with your words,you may cut me with your eyes,you may kill me with your hatefulness,but still, like air, Ill rise.Does my sexiness upset you?Does it come as a surprisethat I dance like Ive got diamonds