Subject Matter
Many readers confuse the subject matter and the
message or theme. So, what is the difference? To begin with, it is important to
point out that the two terms do not mean the same. The subject
matter is used to refer to what the poem is talking about. It is more of
summarizing the poem using your own words stating what the poem is about.
For one to be in a position to say what the poem is talking about one must read and understand the content. Unlike a theme which can be expressed in either a single or few words, the subject matter is more of a summary of the poem read.
To Illustrate
I met a Thief
On the beach,
on the coast,
Under the idle, whispering coconut towers,
Before the growling, foaming, waves,
I met a thief, who guessed I had
An innocent heart for her to steal.
She took my hand and led me under
The intimate cashew boughs which shaded
The downy grass and peeping weeds.
She jumped and plucked the nuts for me to suck;
She sang and laughed and pressed close.
I gazed: her hair was like the wool of a mountain sheep,
Her eyes, a pair of brown-black beans floating in milk.
Juicy and round as plantation shoots
Her legs, arms and neck;
And like wine-gourds her pillowy breasts;
Her throat uttered fresh banana juice:
Matching her face-smooth and banana-ripe.
I touched- but long before I had even tasted,
My heart had flowed from me into her breast;
And the she went – high and South-
And left my carcass roasting in the fire she'd lit.
By A. S Bukenya
Source: Poems from East Africa, selected by David Cook and David Rubadiri, East African Publishers, 1996
Task.
What is the poem talking about?
Under the idle, whispering coconut towers,
Before the growling, foaming, waves,
I met a thief, who guessed I had
An innocent heart for her to steal.
She took my hand and led me under
The intimate cashew boughs which shaded
The downy grass and peeping weeds.
She jumped and plucked the nuts for me to suck;
She sang and laughed and pressed close.
I gazed: her hair was like the wool of a mountain sheep,
Her eyes, a pair of brown-black beans floating in milk.
Juicy and round as plantation shoots
Her legs, arms and neck;
And like wine-gourds her pillowy breasts;
Her throat uttered fresh banana juice:
Matching her face-smooth and banana-ripe.
I touched- but long before I had even tasted,
My heart had flowed from me into her breast;
And the she went – high and South-
And left my carcass roasting in the fire she'd lit.
By A. S Bukenya
Source: Poems from East Africa, selected by David Cook and David Rubadiri, East African Publishers, 1996
Task.
What is the poem talking about?
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