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Category Archives: Poetry
Notes in Emily Dickinson’s pocket – “Some things that fly there be” (Life, 14)
“Tell all the Truth but tell it slant.” ~ Emily Dickinson ____________________________________ Some things that fly there be,— Birds, hours, the bumble-bee: Of these no elegy. Some things that stay there be,— Grief, … Continue reading
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Walking with Walt Whitman – Leaves of Grass – Inscriptions – “To the States”
Walking with Walt Whitman A daily installment from Leaves of Grass Inscriptions “To the States” To the States or any one of them, or any city of the States, Resist much, obey little, Once … Continue reading
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Notes in Emily Dickinson’s pocket – “The soul selects her own society” (Life, 13)
“Tell all the Truth but tell it slant.” ~ Emily Dickinson The soul selects her own society, Then shuts the door; On her divine majority Obtrude no more. Unmoved, she notes the … Continue reading
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Walking with Walt Whitman – Leaves of Grass – Inscriptions – “Beginnings”
Walking with Walt Whitman A daily installment from Leaves of Grass Inscriptions “Beginnings” How they are provided for upon the earth, (appearing at intervals,) How dear and dreadful they are to the earth, How they inure to … Continue reading
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Notes in Emily Dickinson’s pocket – “I asked no other thing” (Life, 12)
I asked no other thing, No other was denied. I offered Being for it; The mighty merchant smiled. Brazil? He twirled a button, Without a glance my way: “But, madam, is there nothing else That we can show to-day?” ____________________________________ … Continue reading
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Walking with Walt Whitman – Leaves of Grass – Inscriptions – “Beginning My Studies”
Walking with Walt Whitman A daily installment from Leaves of Grass. Inscriptions “Beginning My Studies” Beginning my studies the first step pleas’d me so much, The mere fact consciousness, these forms, the power of motion, … Continue reading
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Notes in Emily Dickinson’s pocket – “Much madness is divinest sense” (Life, 11)
Much madness is divinest sense To a discerning eye; Much sense the starkest madness. ’T is the majority In this, as all, prevails. Assent, and you are sane; Demur,—you ’re straightway dangerous, And handled with a chain. … Continue reading
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Tagged Much madness is divinest sense, poem
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Walking with Walt Whitman – Leaves of Grass – Inscriptions – “When I Read the Book”
Walking with Walt Whitman A daily installment from Leaves of Grass. ~ ❦ ~ “When I Read the Book” When I read the book, the biography famous, And is this then (said I) what the author calls a man’s life? … Continue reading
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Notes in Emily Dickinson’s pocket – “A precious, mouldering pleasure ’t is” (Life, 10)
A precious, mouldering pleasure ’t is To meet an antique book, In just the dress his century wore; A privilege, I think, His venerable hand to take, And warming in our own, A passage back, or two, to make To … Continue reading
Walking with Walt Whitman – Leaves of Grass – Inscriptions – “For Him I Sing”
Walking with Walt Whitman A daily installment from Leaves of Grass. ~ ❦ ~ “For Him I Sing” For him I sing, I raise the present on the past, (As some perennial tree out of its roots, the present on … Continue reading
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