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poem in a white ribbed vest

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poem in a white ribbed vest

Category Archives: emily dickinson

dickinson

05 Thursday Apr 2018

Posted by bashfulbadger in emily dickinson, NaPoWriMo, poem in a white ribbed vest, US, writing

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North-Pleasant-Street

secondhand sunlight
through a casement shoots
shivers straight into her bones,
a gravestone cold
of exposed hilltops
and broken-down ploughs.

her view takes in the frosted
counterpane of fields,
hedgerows, carriages,
clergy and conformity.

her words thaw the barren land,
expose the narrow insularity
of a town built on niceties
and frozen birthday candle wishes.
she disdains that chill
undergarment, civility, bucks
at the taut reins of convention.

redemption is
a sentence strung
just so – and hung –
a lantern on a branch ,
chasing shadows into the dark
corners of the yard,
beaming brightness
into cloistered
secrets of the heart.

her pen a wand
that touches all with wonder.
an intellect so finely spun
it seeks its own society,
subsists on solitude,
shuns the ebb and flow,
the shallow soirées
of polite parlours.

her difference – once dared –
stands free and tall
and unabashed,
virginal and proud
clad all in white –
the colour of obstinacy.

there is no manual
to the heart
no rules are written down
a spirit’s wild desire,
a restless soul,
craves reciprocity,
her candle a naked flame
of longing held in check.

she has scaled the wall
of her captivity,
the disadvantages
of gender, to soar free,
to hover, iridescent,
a dragonfly on the breeze,
and release her passion
in a torrent of free verse.

and so – she writes,
in earnest fervour
like the sun –
to break the dawn
in splendour.

 

Picture from Emily Dickinson Museum.

elucidate

06 Tuesday May 2014

Posted by bashfulbadger in emily dickinson, poetry

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blog, emily dickinson, NaPoWriMo, poem, poem in a white ribbed vest

when emily wrote –emily

she knew what to say –

emotions nailed down – cold

time dissected in one line –

mortality admitted at the door –

from the wide open window of her truth –

she could see – she could be – it all

your chance to choose

age aidan turner alejandro rose-garcia bruce springsteen children's novel emily dickinson family generation war greece love movies music nanowrimo NaPoWriMo nature poem in a white ribbed vest poetry prose rome shakey graves television tennis timothy b schmit travel Uncategorized US war weather writing youth

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