Seamus Heaney

Rookie (April 13,1939 - August 30, 2013 / Castledàwson, County Londonderry)

Seamus Heaney Poems

1. ‘When all the others were away at Mass' 7/23/2015
2. A Kite For Aibhín 12/28/2011
3. A Suit 10/9/2015
4. Act Of Union 11/11/2010
5. Anahorish 12/28/2011
6. Anything Can Happen 2/19/2015
7. Blackberry-Picking 12/28/2011
8. Bogland 12/28/2011
9. Casualty 11/11/2010
10. Clearances 12/28/2011
11. Death Of A Naturalist 12/28/2011
12. Digging 12/28/2011
13. Docker 11/11/2010
14. Exposure 12/28/2011
15. Follower 12/28/2011
16. From Lightenings 11/11/2010
17. From The Frontier Of Writing 12/28/2011
18. Keeping Going 12/28/2011
19. Limbo 12/28/2011
20. Lovers On Aran 12/28/2011
21. Mid-Term Break 12/28/2011
22. Mossbawn: Two Poems In Dedication 12/28/2011
23. Oysters 12/16/2014
24. Personal Helicon 11/11/2010
25. Postscript 12/28/2011
26. Requiem For The Croppies 12/28/2011
27. Rite Of Spring 12/28/2011
28. Song 11/11/2010
29. Strange Fruit 12/28/2011
30. Tankas For Toraiwa 1/10/2012
31. Testimony 12/28/2011
32. The Early Purges 12/28/2011
33. The Grauballe Man 12/28/2011
34. The Harvest Bow 11/11/2010
35. The Otter 12/28/2011
36. The Perch 12/28/2011
37. The Tollund Man 11/11/2010
38. Twice Shy 12/28/2011
39. Villanelle For An Anniversary 2/9/2015

Comments about Seamus Heaney

  • disbihs empy (12/20/2017 9:08:00 AM)

    i cant read how me ment like him

    0 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • im am komy (12/20/2017 9:01:00 AM)

    i enjoy his poems to an extent but he ded so i cant carry on liking him

  • P. Mason P. Mason (11/27/2016 10:45:00 AM)

    One of my favorite poets...unrelated, I am sure, to the fact that I once threw back a beer with him in Harvard Square. His use of language and the flow of a darkness in his poems is the best I've ever read.

  • Susan Williams Susan Williams (7/10/2016 4:13:00 PM)

    I just read Personal Helicon. Excellent poem. What a dynamic poet. I have never had the privilege of reading this poem before and I thank PoemHunter for presenting it to us to learn what poetry can be in the hands of a true poet. Now I am going to read more of his works- I am going to stuff myself.

  • Barbara Clafton (5/29/2014 5:20:00 PM)

    I studied Seamus Heaney for A level English Language and Literature poetry element in 2012. I absolutely love the work of this man, so sad he passed away. His poems are particularly fabulous to listen to in his own voice. A greatly talented poet, an inspiration. I only wish I had a hundredth of his talent.

  • Methew Thomson (1/29/2014 1:32:00 PM)

    I just viewed a very offensive video of the late iconic poet on youtube when I visited the website to view his last appearance titled 'last appearance of Seamus Heaney'.
    I was horrified! I can't even believe that anyone could do it.

  • Gerry Conteh (10/22/2013 11:44:00 AM)

    I so wish that I had had the privilege meeting and perhaps to have had a chat with this iconic and incredible human being. Maybe in the next life.

  • Claire Thomas (9/11/2013 11:20:00 PM)

    He died nearly a week ago.Amazing man.I would have thought you may have noticed that fact poemhunter.

  • Kieran Cummins (8/31/2013 5:22:00 AM)

    Very sad to hear of the death of Seamus Heaney. He was a brilliant poet and a real and kind gentleman. His talent and persona will be greatly missed throughout the world.

  • Lidia Sessi (3/26/2013 3:24:00 AM)

    in his first collections heaney is fascinated with the soil as he can perceive a mysterious life force in it. He uses many words to refer to it: slime, muck, mush. All of them describe a soil that is wetting and become less solid: this is a metaphor for sexual life, where the soil is the female element responding to a male one.

Best Poem of Seamus Heaney


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 ...

Read the full of Blackberry-Picking



He would drink by himself
And raise a weathered thumb
Towards the high shelf,
Calling another rum
And blackcurrant, without
Having to raise his voice,
Or order a quick stout

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