Tag Archives: Emily Dickinson

“My Life had stood — a Loaded Gun” (764) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]

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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 Elder 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 -

“I felt a Funeral, in my Brain” (340) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]

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I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
   And Mourners to and fro
 Kept treading -- treading -- till it seemed
   That Sense was breaking through --

And when they all were seated,
   A Service, like a Drum --
 Kept beating -- beating -- till I thought
   My mind was going numb --

And then I heard them lift a Box
   And creak across my Soul
 With those same Boots of Lead, again,
   Then Space -- began to toll,

As all the Heavens were a Bell,
   And Being, but an Ear,
 And I, and Silence, some strange Race,
   Wrecked, solitary, here --

And then a Plank in Reason, broke,
   And I dropped down and down --
 And hit a World, at every plunge,
   And Finished knowing -- then --

“Crumbling is not and instant’s Act” (1010) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]

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Crumbling is not an instant's Act
   A fundamental pause
 Dilapidation's processes
   Are organized Decays --

'Tis first a Cobweb on the Soul
   A Cuticle of Dust
 A Borer in the Axis
   An Elemental Rust --

Ruin is formal -- Devil's work
   Consecutive and slow--
 Fail in an instant, no man did
   Slipping -- is Crashe's law --

“Surgeons must be very careful” (156) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]

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Surgeons must be very careful
   When they take the knife!
 Underneath their fine incisions
   Stirs the Culprit -- Life!

“‘Faith’ is a fine invention” (202) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]

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"Faith" is a fine invention
   For Gentlemen who see!
 But Microscopes are prudent
   In an Emergency!

“There’s a certain Slant of light” (320) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]

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There's a certain slant of light,
   Winter Afternoons --
 That oppresses, like the Heft
   Of Cathedral Tunes --

Heavenly Hurt, it gives us --
   We can find no scar,
 But internal difference --
   Where the Meanings, are --

Non may teach it -- Any --
  'Tis the seal Despair --
 An imperial affliction
  Sent us of the Air --

When it comes, the Landscape listens --
   Shadows -- hold their breath --
 When it goes, 'tis like the Distance
   On the look of Death --

“I have never seen ‘Volcanoes’ –” (175) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]

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I have never seen "Volcanoes" --
   But, when Travellers tell
 How those old -- phlegmatic mountains
   Usually so still --

Bear within -- appalling Ordnance,
   Fire, and smoke, and gun,
 Taking Villages for breakfast,
   And appalling Men --

If the stillness is Volcanic
   In the human face
 When upon a pain Titanic
   Features keep their place --

If at length the smouldering anguish
   Wil not overcome ---
 And the palpitating Vineyard
   In the dust, be thrown?

If some loving Antiquary,
   On Resumption Morn,
 Will not cry with joy "Pompeii"!
   To the Hills return!

“Snowflakes” (45) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]

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I counted till they danced so
   Their slippers leaped the town --
 And then I took a pencil 
   To note the rebels down --
 And then they grew so jolly
   I did resign the prig --
 And ten of my once stately toes
   Are marshalled for a jig!

“Forever — is composed of Nows — (690) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]

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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 --

“Fame is a Bee” (1788) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]

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Fame is a bee.
 It has a song --
 It has a sting --
 Ah, too, it has a wing.