Visual Encyclopedia

Emily Dickinson

More posts about this topic

Ad

Much Madness is divinest Sense - To a discerning Eye - Much Sense - the starkest Madness - ’Tis the Majority In this, as all, prevail - Assent - and you are sane - Demur - you’re straightway dangerous - And handled with a Chain -

Contributed by Alicia Kimberly Hauskins

I never hear the word “Escape” Without a quicker blood, A sudden expectation – A flying attitude! I never hear of prisons broad By soldiers battered down, But I tug childish at my bars Only to fail again!

Contributed by Alicia Kimberly Hauskins

Of Glory not a Beam is left But her Eternal House – The Asterisk is for the Dead, The Living, for the Stars –

Contributed by Alicia Kimberly Hauskins

My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun - In Corners - till a Day The Owner passed - identified - And carried Me away - And now We roam in Sovreign Woods - And now We hunt the Doe - And every time I speak for Him The Mountains straight reply - And do I smile, such cordial light Opon the Valley glow - It is as a Vesuvian face Had let it’s pleasure through - And when at Night - Our good Day done - I guard My Master’s Head - ’Tis better than the Eider Duck’s Deep Pillow - to have shared - To foe of His - I’m deadly foe - None stir the second time On whom I lay a Yellow Eye - Or an emphatic Thumb Though I than He - may longer live He longer must - than I For I have but the power to kill, Without - the power to die

Contributed by Alicia Kimberly Hauskins

I would not paint — a picture — I'd rather be the One It's bright impossibility To dwell — delicious — on — And wonder how the fingers feel Whose rare — celestial — stir — Evokes so sweet a torment — Such sumptuous — Despair — I would not talk, like Cornets — I'd rather be the One Raised softly to the Ceilings — And out, and easy on — Through Villages of Ether — Myself endued Balloon By but a lip of Metal — The pier to my Pontoon — Nor would I be a Poet — It's finer — Own the Ear — Enamored — impotent — content — The License to revere, A privilege so awful What would the Dower be, Had I the Art to stun myself With Bolts — of Melody!

Contributed by Alicia Kimberly Hauskins

Glass was the Street - in Tinsel Peril Tree and Traveller stood. Filled was the Air with merry venture Hearty with Boys the Road. Shot the lithe Sleds like Shod vibrations Emphacized and gone It is the Past’s supreme italic Makes the Present mean -

Contributed by Alicia Kimberly Hauskins

Fame is the one that does not stay — It's occupant must die Or out of sight of estimate Ascend incessantly — Or be that most insolvent thing A Lightning in the Germ — Electrical the embryo But we demand the Flame

Contributed by Alicia Kimberly Hauskins

Forever – is composed of Nows – ‘Tis not a different time – Except for Infiniteness – And Latitude of Home – From this – experienced Here – Remove the Dates – to These – Let Months dissolve in further Months – And Years – exhale in Years – Without Debate – or Pause – Or Celebrated Days – No different Our Years would be From Anno Dominies –

Contributed by Alicia Kimberly Hauskins

A narrow fellow in the grass Occasionally rides; You may have met him—did you not His notice sudden is, The grass divides as with a comb, A spotted shaft is seen, And then it closes at your feet, And opens further on. He likes a boggy acre, A floor too cool for corn, But when a boy and barefoot, I more than once at noon Have passed, I thought, a whip lash, Unbraiding in the sun, When stooping to secure it, It wrinkled and was gone. Several of nature’s people I know, and they know me; I feel for them a transport Of cordiality. But never met this fellow, Attended or alone, Without a tighter breathing, And zero at the bone.

Contributed by Alicia Kimberly Hauskins

After great pain, a formal feeling comes – The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs – The stiff Heart questions ‘was it He, that bore,’ And ‘Yesterday, or Centuries before’? The Feet, mechanical, go round – A Wooden way Of Ground, or Air, or Ought – Regardless grown, A Quartz contentment, like a stone – This is the Hour of Lead – Remembered, if outlived, As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow – First – Chill – then Stupor – then the letting go –

Contributed by Alicia Kimberly Hauskins