It took me quite some time to go through all of the poems.

Oh myyyy, this edition of the book is so gorgeous.

I have to be honest, I don't think I understood most of the poems. I'm still in the process of learning to read poetry properly, and Dickinson isn't the easiest one to understand, especially not in English.

However, I'm really glad I read the book anyway because there are 20 poems that I really, really loved.

Each poem seems to have its own unique charm and hidden meaning.

Even though I might not have grasped the full essence of every single one, the overall experience of reading Dickinson's works has been quite enlightening.

I look forward to delving deeper into the world of poetry and perhaps understanding Dickinson's poems even better in the future.

To be honest, I felt nothing while reading these.

It was as if the words on the page failed to evoke any sort of emotion or reaction within me.

Maybe it was the writing style, which seemed too平淡 and unengaging.

Or perhaps it was the subject matter that simply didn't resonate with my interests.

Whatever the reason, I found myself skimming through the text without really absorbing any of the content.

It's a shame because I had hoped to gain some new insights or perspectives from reading these, but instead, I was left feeling disappointed and unfulfilled.

I guess sometimes we have to accept that not everything we read will have an impact on us, and that's okay.

Maybe the next thing I pick up will be more to my liking and will leave a lasting impression.

I’m currently engrossed in reading the complete poems of Emily Dickinson. I’m earnestly seeking the light that lies hidden within her profound verses.

Can one truly love without having an appreciation for poetry? Can we always find the precise words to convey the depth of what resides in our hearts? The words of poetry are like a masterful chisel, delicately carving out the inherent beauty from a rough piece of stone.

We all have emotions and feelings, but to transform those intangible emotions into understandable sentences, we often rely on the power of poetic words. The corruption that pervades adulthood has a tendency to dim the light within our souls. We desperately need that light to shine through once again.

We need Emily Dickinson, with her remarkable simplicity of wording, especially in a time when so many people on TikTok seem to have a woefully inaccurate understanding of the entire spectrum of human interaction.

One particular poem of hers speaks to me with great force every time I read it:

If I can stop one heart from breaking,

I shall not live in vain;

If I can ease one life from aching,

Or cool one pain,

Or help one fainting robin

Unto his nest again,

I shall not live in vain.

Beauty truly lies in simplicity. We are constantly on the lookout for grandeur and greatness, yet in the process, we often overlook the essence of life that is concealed within the tiniest of things.

We have an unwavering desire to change the world, nothing less will satisfy us. We firmly believe that we are predestined for greatness. But is that really the case?

Can we, in fact, help one fainting robin find its way back to its nest? How about alleviating the pain of one suffering life? Or preventing one heart from shattering?

Goodness is often accompanied by humility. It doesn't loudly demand attention. There are many kind-hearted people who pass away in silence, forgotten by the world.

But without the presence of goodness, what value does greatness hold? And without the medium of poetry, can we truly fathom the depth and meaning of love?

On TikTok, one can only encounter a certain degree of corruption. It's time to close TikTok and open the precious book of Emily Dickinson.

Life is far too short. And without the guiding light of poetry and goodness, life becomes even shorter, deprived of its true essence and beauty.

Emily Dickinson’s poetry is an absolute marvel. It is sheer beauty personified. My very first encounter with the enchanting world of poetry was through one of her remarkable works many years ago.

She often appears so fragile and vulnerable in her verses, which had a profound impact on me and inspired me to (albeit secretly) embark on my own poetic journey.

Her poetry is a unique blend of tragedy and hope. There is a palpable sense that she held a somewhat pessimistic outlook on life, yet she had an extraordinary talent for expressing her deep-seated sadness on the blank pages.

And let's not forget her genius rhythm! It is simply captivating. She masterfully employs the imagery of seasons and nature to vividly describe her complex feelings about love. Bees, butterflies, and flowers are among her favorite motifs.

Moreover, I am in awe of her ability to transform a solemn subject like death into a humorous and engaging spectacle. Her poem "Because I could not stop for Death" is a prime example of this.

Sometimes, delving into her longer and more descriptive poems requires concentration, but it is well worth the effort. I particularly enjoy when her words are as simple and relatable as those in "A thought went up my mind to-day."

Of course, we can all resonate with her poem about the power of precious books and how they expand our minds and make us better individuals.

In conclusion, Emily Dickinson's poetry is truly a work of art. She is the very reason I developed a genuine appreciation for poetry. I will forever be indebted to her for giving me the wings to soar in the world of words.

Emily is my favorite 19th century American poet.

When I first discovered her works, it was like uncovering a hidden treasure. I didn't always fully understand her words, but there was something about them that deeply resonated with me.

She was an intelligent and cloistered woman, living a simple life that seemed to belie the complexity of her mind. It was as if her thoughts and emotions were too vast to be confined within the ordinary boundaries of her existence.

And in many ways, I saw myself in her. I too have felt the pull of a rich inner world that sometimes struggles to find expression in the external one.

Emily's poetry is a testament to the power of the human spirit to break free from the constraints of convention and explore the depths of the soul. It continues to inspire me and countless others to this day.

I have a bird in spring

which for myself doth sing —

The spring decoys.

And as the summer nears —

And as the Rose appears,

Robin is gone.

Yet do I not repine

Knowing that Bird of mine

Though flown —

Learneth beyond the sea

Melody new for me

And will return.

Fast in safer hand

Held in a truer Land

Are mine —

And though they now depart,

Tell I my doubting heart

They're thine.

In a serener Bright,

In a more golden light

I see

Each little doubt and fear,

Each little discord here

Removed.

Then will I not repine,

Knowing that Bird of mine

Though flown

Shall in distant tree

Bright melody for me

Return.

April 6, 2020

5

In the beautiful season of spring, I have a bird that sings solely for me. The spring seems to be a decoy, luring this lovely creature to my side. As summer approaches and the rose blossoms, the robin takes its leave. But I do not feel sad or complain. I know that my bird, although it has flown away, is learning new melodies beyond the sea that will be for me. It will surely return.

My bird is held fast in a safer hand and in a truer land. Even though it has now departed, I tell my doubting heart that it is still mine. In a calmer and brighter light, in a more golden glow, I can see that all the little doubts and fears, all the little discords here, have been removed. Then I will not repine anymore, knowing that my bird, though flown, will return with a bright melody for me from a distant tree.

April 6, 2020.

Emily Dickinson, an immeasurable and prolific poet, wrote nearly 2,000 poems. Her works are filled with remarkable opening lines that are truly beautiful.

Her poems are typically short and highly metaphorical. She was a consummate observer of both nature and her immediate environment, with a great propensity for drawing metaphors.

Many of her poems deal with the theme of depression. Dickinson was a bit of a hermit and not a traditional storyteller as she didn't write epic-length poems. However, her poetry holds up well considering most were written before 1850.

Since she didn't provide titles for most of her poems, editors often named them after the first line. Here are some of her favorites that are in the public domain: "Unreturning", "The Brain within its Groove", "A Service of Song", "A Day", "Autumn", "I’m nobody, who are you?", "In the Garden", "November", "I felt a funeral in my brain", "Dead", "Charlotte Bronte’s Grave", "Nobody Knows this Little Rose", "I fear a man of frugal speech", "I never saw a moor", "Dear March, Come In", "Tis easier to pity those when dead".

Overall, her poetry earns a rating of 4.5 stars.

Have I adhered to my plan? Certainly not. But in the last week, I have read about 700-ish poems to get it out because I was just too stubborn to give up.

This collection is quite diverse, but the most common themes are death/god/flowers/bees/boats, which is really an interesting combination. I have kept a list of favorites, and it has become about 6 phone notepad pages long. So I won't share that here, but I can say that there were some really beautiful and lovely poems among them, and I was the biggest fan of those.

I could continue to tell you which numbers were my favorites, but that doesn't make much sense. However, this was one of the best for me:
"Bee! I'm expecting you!
Was saying Yesterday
To Somebody you know
That you were due -

The Frogs got Home last Week -
Are settled, and at work -
Birds, mostly back -
The Clover warm and thick -

You'll get my Letter by
The seventeenth - Reply
Or better, be with me -
Yours, Fly."
(1035)

Isn't that gorgeous?

All in all, it was probably not the most effective way to read this collection because of course I didn't take everything in completely, but otherwise I would never have done it. So yes.

Now I want a new challenge, and suggestions are welcome. :)

I received a copy of this book for free from the publisher (Canterbury Classics) for promotional purposes.

Just wow! Emily Dickinson was truly such a poetic genius! The fact that she wrote the majority of her poetry for herself and for her friends, rather than for publication, is simply incredible.

Prior to reading this book, I had only read a small handful of Dickinson’s poems and thoroughly enjoyed them. Therefore, I was extremely eager to delve more deeply into her poetry.

When I first began reading, I maintained a list of the poems that I truly loved and with which I deeply resonated. However, there were far too many such poems, so I had to cease. The list grew so long so rapidly. This just goes to show how much of a genius she was. Her poetry is both deep and meaningful, yet still accessible and easy to understand.

I adored the fact that she wrote poetry about a wide range of themes. Her poems are primarily divided into different sections that reflect the themes: Life, Love, Nature, and Time and Eternity.

One of the most remarkable poems I encountered was “Charlotte Bronte’s Grave” (pg. 250). I love the fact that Emily Dickinson was a fan of Charlotte Bronte. I too am a fan of Charlotte Bronte, so I highly appreciated this poem.

Overall, Emily Dickinson was such a remarkable literary talent. I am extremely glad that I finally read her work.

If I should die,

And you should live,

And time should gurgle on,

Like a never-ending stream,

And morn should beam with its gentle light,

And noon should burn with its fierce heat,

Just as it has always done;

If birds should build their nests as early as ever,

And bees should buzz around bustlingly,

One might choose to depart

From the activities and enterprises below!

It is sweet to know that stocks will remain stable

When we lie among the daisies,

That commerce will carry on without interruption,

And trades will continue to thrive briskly.

It makes the act of parting more tranquil,

And keeps the soul in a state of serenity,

That gentlemen, so full of life and energy,

Will conduct this pleasing and vibrant scene!

Emily Dickinson creates poems of her own unique world.

It is not possible to claim that I loved all of her poems. The reason is that Dickinson forms them with elements from our world and transforms them to suit the world in which she lives. This is something that cannot be easily described. However, one can still enjoy each and every one of them.

The poem "A word is dead" presents an interesting perspective. Some say that a word is dead when it is said. But Dickinson argues that she believes it just begins to live on that very day. This shows her unconventional way of thinking and her ability to see things from a different angle. Her poems often challenge our traditional notions and make us think deeply about the nature of language, life, and the world around us.

See the Dickinson documentary A Loaded Gun for my take on this writer, arguably the best poet in English. (I play the villain in that film directed by James Wolpaw.)

I have given reading-whistlings of ED's bird poems, from memory of course, in the garden of the Dickinson Manse in Amherst. I have also recited an hour of Dickinson on several occasions (from memory). In fact, Dickinson is fairly easy to memorize--a hallmark of fine verse.

Perhaps only Yeats' tetrametric "Under Ben Bulben" is easier to recall, and maybe a couple Seventeenth Century lyrics, and maybe a ballad or two. (I may add, as a Shakespearean for 35 years, I have memorized a couple dozen of his sonnets and maybe twenty major speeches. Some of his sonnets are easy to memorize: one I learned in ten minutes one morning walking; others I have to re-memorize every year.)

I recommend reading this poet three poems a day for a year and a half. They resonate so much that time between them rewards the reader. If you read them straight through, you may withdraw your participation in the text. A very famous critic I know well read all the poems and her critics in a couple months; he came away less appreciative. I say, he would not have read all Shakespeare like that, and Dickinson has the heft of Shakespeare.

In many cases, one must know--say, what Robins eat--to enjoy: "A Bird came down the Walk - He did not know I saw - He bit an Angle Worm in halves And ate the fellow, raw..."

Or on a much less common bird now, which I only saw after decades, though I heard when young: "I'll tell you how the sun rose-- A Ribbon at a time. The Steeple swam in Amethyst, The News--like Squirrels--ran. The hills untied their bonnets, The bobolinks begun. Then I said softly to myself, “That must have been the sun!”

Some other Dickinson critiques I have published in my Birdtalk (Random House/ Frog, 2003).

In winters I always recite her Blue Jay, "No Brigadier throughout the year/ So Civic as the Jay..." and always her Oriole, "One of the ones that Midas touched/ Who failed to touch us all.." as well as a couple of her short Robin poems, "The Robin is the One/ That interrupts the Morn/ With Hurried, few, express Reports/When March is scarecely on." E.D. here lays down the best description of a Robin's song,a burbling, impure, emphatic series. This poem is also what Yeats calls "passionate syntax," poetic thwarting of English grammar: here, the poetic singer uses "one" as a collective pronoun. Neat trick. As a collective pronoun, it takes a plural verb, "the One/ That interrupt...." It's grammatically impossible, but it works. (my book BirdTalk, p.93).

* The former, learned in ten minutes walking, "Why is my verse so barren of new pride"(#76); the one I re-memorize, "Some glory in their birth, some in their skill"(91).