December Poet: Emily Dickinson

Yeah I know that's just way too easy choosing Emily Dickinson. But it's December and I have a lot to do and lots of things to think about and my cats need attention and anyway she's one of my favorite poets!

It seems kind of pointless to share biographical info as most people know the basic stuff. Throughout the month I'm going to see what I can find that isn't as well-known. For this first post though I thought I'd share some sites that are good sources of information. 

Dickinson Electronic Archives
Poets.org page on Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson Museum
Emily Dickinson International Society

Since there are so many poems to choose from I thought I'd share two today. If you have a favorite please share it in a comment - I'd love to hear!


There is a pain -- so utter --
It swallows substance up --
Then covers the Abyss with Trance --
So Memory can step
Around -- across -- upon it --
As one within a Swoon --
Goes safely -- where an open eye --
Would drop Him -- Bone by Bone.

*    *    *    *    *    *

It's all I have to bring today –
This, and my heart beside –
This, and my heart, and all the fields –
And all the meadows wide –
Be sure you count – should I forget
Some one the sum could tell –
This, and my heart, and all the Bees
Which in the Clover dwell.

Wordle from Emily Dickinson Poem

Poetry Day

It was not death, for I stood up,
And all the dead lie down;
It was not night, for all the bells
Put out their tongues, for noon.

It was not frost, for on my flesh
I felt siroccos crawl,
Nor fire, for just my marble feet
Could keep a chancel cool.

And yet it tasted like them all;
The figures I have seen
Set orderly, for burial,
Reminded me of mine,

As if my life were shaven
And fitted to a frame,
And could not breathe without a key;
And I was like midnight, some,

When everything that ticked has stopped,
And space stares, all around,
Or grisly frosts, first autumn morns,
Repeal the beating ground.

But most like chaos,--stopless, cool,
Without a chance or spar,--
Or even a report of land
To justify despair.

Emily Dickinson

Poem in Your Pocket Day

Ok, here is my poem in my pocket for today. I hope someone else will share one!

One need not be a Chamber—to be Haunted—
One need not be a House—
The Brain has Corridors—surpassing
Material Place—

Far safer, of a Midnight Meeting
External Ghost
Than its interior Confronting—
That Cooler Host.

Far safer, through an Abbey gallop,
The Stones a'chase—
Than Unarmed, one's a'self encounter—
In lonesome Place—

~Emily Dickinson

Poetry Day

I've decided to make Wednesday a poetry day. Every Wednesday I'll post a poem with a little information about the poet. You will be tested at some point in the future (just kidding, I think). I don't have a clever name like I came up with for Silent Sunday-- if anyone has an idea let me know. So here you go: the first official poetry day poem is from Emily Dickinson.

Emily Dickinson was born in Amherst, Massachusetts in 1830. During her life she rarely traveled outside of Amherst and earned a reputation for being eccentric. She wrote nearly 1800 poems but published fewer than a dozen during her life. This is one of my favorites.

The Soul selects her own society,
Then shuts the door;
On her divine majority
Obtrude no more.

Unmoved, she notes the chariot’s pausing
At her low gate;
Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling
Upon her mat.

I’ve known her from an ample nation
Choose one;
Then close the valves of her attention
Like stone.

Robin, the lonely blog mistress