- wode
- Dec 8, 2015
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Some favorites which I think are of a theme - for you, Lawman, and thread.
She's probably thought simple and saccharine by the educated and y'all, but I'm simple too and could get by by her alone:
Emily Dickinson posted:
A modest lot, a fame petite,
A brief campaign of sting and sweet
Is plenty! Is enough!
A sailor's business is the shore,
A soldier's — balls. Who asketh more
Must seek the neighboring life!
Emily Dickinson posted:
“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -
And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -
I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.
Lisel Mueller posted:
In November
Outside the house the wind is howling
and the trees are creaking horribly.
This is an old story
with its old beginning,
as I lay me down to sleep.
But when I wake up, sunlight
has taken over the room.
You have already made the coffee
and the radio brings us music
from a confident age. In the paper
bad news is set in distant places.
Whatever was bound to happen
in my story did not happen.
But I know there are rules that cannot be broken.
Perhaps a name was changed.
A small mistake. Perhaps
a woman I do not know
is facing the day with the heavy heart
that, by all rights, should have been mine.
thread posted:
...British poetical patriarchs...
Tennyson posted:
...Come, my friends,
'T is not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
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Jan 5, 2023 08:37
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ADBOT LOVES YOU
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May 16, 2024 12:52
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- wode
- Dec 8, 2015
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That's good to hear! I'm insecure about liking her
Emily Dickinson posted:
The butterfly's assumption-gown,
In chrysoprase apartments hung,
This afternoon put on.
How condescending to descend,
And be of buttercups the friend
In a New England town!
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Jan 5, 2023 18:55
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- wode
- Dec 8, 2015
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one of Dickinson's hornier poems
I feel unwell when asked to regard boat moorage as a metaphor for sex. This is probably my problem. But - she never saw the sea.
Emily Dickinson posted:
As by the dead we love to sit,
Become so wondrous dear,
As for the lost we grapple,
Though all the rest are here, —
In broken mathematics
We estimate our prize,
Vast, in its fading ratio,
To our penurious eyes!
Look at this - not a rhyme in there.
These were novel to me. Eden Rock has hidden a few almost rhymes, yeah? I like it. The death-stalking Estonian not as much. For you a passage I saved - Kay Ryan yelling at Walt "Big! Lots!" Whitman:
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Jan 19, 2023 08:54
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Jan 5, 2023 08:37
