Because I could Not Stop For Death by Emily Dickinson
October 10th 2007 00:28
Review in poem by Dexter
So still Dexter is afraid to write,
To type his own words and work,
Instead to share more of those that influence.
Emily Dickinson, alone, depressed and surreal,
Talented, ignored in life,
A Marlene Dietrich if attention arrived,
There is melody in her lines, lyric in the words
Timeless sorrow and questions of mortality,
Unique individuality challenging obtuse sexuality.
A bold voice, with singular punctuation,
Rhythmn and beat could mix,
But her tragedy is no cause for song.
Inevitable demise examined,
Hoped for and desired to escape.
We can only thank her now when she cannot hear,
For lessons, wisdom and brave introspection.
A modern voice in a time of repression,
Inspiring contemplation, why can I still not produce,
Not write, not create when it was all done so long ago?
Because I could not stop for Death
By Emily Dickinson
Because I could not stop for Death--
He kindly stopped for me--
The Carriage held but just Ourselves--
and Immortality.
We slowly drove--He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility--
We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess--in the Ring--
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain--
We passed the Setting Sun--
Or rather--He passed Us--
The Dews drew quivering and chill--
For only Gossamer, my Gown--
My Tippet--only Tulle--
We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground--
The Roof was scarcely visible--
The Cornice--in the Ground--
Since then--'Tis Centuries--and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses Heads
Were toward Eternity--
| 54 |
| Vote |
Subscribe to this blog

















Comment by Anonymous