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Today, on November 22nd, 2008, the site contains 196 poets, 8,693 poems and 4,838 comments.
Analysis and comments on Poem In October by Dylan Thomas

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Comment 14 of 14, added on November 19th, 2008 at 4:03 AM.
Use your brains

Dylan Thomas is one of the greatest poets of the twentieth century and probably all time. This poem is one of his best. It makes me sad to see people discrediting the poem and not understanding it; it's fairly simple. Look at the reverence he provides for nature, look at the way he mocks religion, look at the use of seasons, look at the pattern of movement, look at the different numbers of syllables in each line. It isn't as difficult as you are making it out to be. Also, please learn how to use correct grammar and spelling. If this is how the next generation of the world is educated, we should all be very afraid.

Logan from United Kingdom
Comment 13 of 14, added on April 22nd, 2006 at 3:38 AM.

this poem is sooooo boring.... ok i really dont know if the poem is about a man who is dead and looking back or if he is talking on his 30th b'day! dylan has just made this poem soooo..... confusing and boooring!!

Ricky from Sri Lanka
Comment 12 of 14, added on March 11th, 2006 at 4:20 AM.

“Poem In October" by Dylan Thomas is a poem written on his thirtieth birthday. He expresses his joy at being alive and at being almost one with Nature, which he reveres to the point of worship. [Note the use of religious verbs and nouns some of them created through poetic license such as "priested", "praying", "parables" and "chapels".] He also seems to shun humanity and human companionship and instead actively seeks out nature. For instance, he leaves the town asleep and ventures out into the countryside.

Note also how cleverly he incorporates all of the four seasons into this poem. He mentions spring in "springful of larks", summer in "the sun of October/ Summery/ On the hill's shoulder" as well as in "the listening/Summertime of the dead" and " It was my thirtieth/Year to heaven stood there then in the summer noon". Autumn appears in "the town below lay leaved with October blood" and also in "I rose/ In rainy autumn/ And walked abroad in a shower of all my days". Winter also gets a mention in "the rain wringing/ Wind blow cold/ In the wood faraway under me". The four seasons are of course symbolic and represent different stages in life. Thomas considers that he is in the summer of his life on this his thirtieth birthday and this is expressed as the peak of existence; filled with joy and peace and still highlighted by the exuberance of youth which would of course be spring. Although his birthday happens to fall in reality in autumn; in his heart and mind and soul he basks in "the summer sun" while winter [old age/death] is "the rain wringing... faraway".

Dylan Thomas love of Nature is reflected at two levels in this poem. First and primary is the immediate setting of the poem. He wakes to the sounds of nature, he walks through the sights of nature and this prompts him to the second level, which comprises of a flashback to his childhood where he was also in communion with nature. He reflects that on this day and with this powerful connection to nature he can recall and feel with accuracy the emotions of his youth: "That his tears burned my cheeks and his heart moved in mine".


Christine from Kenya
Comment 11 of 14, added on March 7th, 2006 at 4:39 PM.

this poem, beautifully written but it is sad he is looking back on his life from death not fixing his life while living...

Jeilisa from United States
Comment 10 of 14, added on December 3rd, 2005 at 7:03 PM.

Dylan Thomas and his poetry are the non plus ultra in campestrian pseudo-intellectualism. His poems are all form devoid of any substance or transcendental meaning.

It is literary sugar for your average weak-minded English college professor: literary eunuchs, who mercilessly subject their helpless students to Thomas' pedestrian mental diarrhea.

Nearly masturbatory narcissism permeates Dylan's work, which plays well with his obsession with form.

We find onanistic exuberance of empty, meaningless imagery fed to the reader to elicit a sense of grandeur that leaves the discerning mind with only the lingering stench of a grotesque, faux, musty portrait of nature, as seen from the egocentric view of the writer.

Make no mistake, Dylan Thomas was just a rococo Dadaist of sorts and his 'poems' just the putrid ramblings of a talentless wanker.

Lord Cracker d' Whitie
Comment 9 of 14, added on November 14th, 2005 at 12:58 PM.

this poem is horrible!!!it's soooo bored do I really mind for what a man does when he wakes upp????!!!!

Karlota from Costa Rica
Comment 8 of 14, added on November 11th, 2005 at 2:05 PM.

for robert:these poem is much better than anything that you could do you swinethese poem is much better than anything that you could do you swine!
Sam: this poem is fabulous, althoug i really dont understand the second line. Could you explain it to me please?thanx


raquel from Spain
Comment 7 of 14, added on October 17th, 2005 at 8:10 AM.

Bob Dylan, your a geniouse, not only can you sing, play the guitar, become an icon, but you can bore the nation as well. Well done Bob. The times they are a changing.

wallace from United Kingdom
Comment 6 of 14, added on September 9th, 2005 at 4:32 PM.

Thomas often allows his ear to take over a poem, making the sense obscure for the sake of his music. But this poem is marvelous with meaning. I heard the recording of his reading of it and it was mesmerizing. How many birthdays have I whispered that last line, "oh may my heart's truth still be sung on this high hill in a year's turning"?

Dan from Philippines
Comment 5 of 14, added on May 14th, 2005 at 4:23 AM.

Dylan was one of the greatest poets who ever wrote in English, and moreover he is the one of only two big masters who ever wrote this way. The other is T.S.Eliot, they both knew well what to do with the words and lines to create a mood of the imaginary reader - but they never had this goal for itself.

In his Poem in October and another one, written to his birthday, Dylan Thomas does the thing that may look rather strange for the illiterate view; he describes his inner world and the outer world as a death-like landscape, and his "life through death" mood is astonishing. One must be a philosopher not to tremble thinking about sad things on his own birthday; people prefer to take birthdays for a joyful and happy event, but they are NOT. Everyone who was ever born must go to the dust as ashes go to ashes, and Dylan Thomas encounters his foreseen fate with wide open eyes.

In the one of the greatest poem ever.

Maria from Russia

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Information about Poem In October

Poet: Dylan Thomas
Poem: Poem In October
Added: Feb 20 2003
Viewed: 10844 times
Poem of the Day: Apr 19 2007


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