Best Emily Poems
Crowned poet,
posthumous Queen
of the private world,
you explored
every subtlety of the soul
and mapped the wonder
of existence
to its last drawn breath.
What price did you pay
deep in your alabaster chambers,
charting the course
of a nameless presence
stretched across eternity,
giving it a home
in the exquisite vessel
of your words.
The day goes --
but I do not
The west wind blows
and I am still
I'm free to fly
but I just watch
Thoughts of why
I know not
Afraid to be ---
in a world so rough
Afraid for you
is faith enough
A soul at peace
in world at war
Life drifts with ease
but what's in store
The sun will set
then we'll see
A time for rest --
for you and me
The Sad And Tragic Death Of Emily Hope
That night flew roaring Wind- a mighty gale
over hill and dale through windows left up
Had I then known its fruits, I'd have turned pale
for its destruction was a bitter cup!
Yet I, pen in busy hand onward wrote
verses quite dear, to my romantic love
Thus in writing fever, I took no note
of great black wrath descending from above!
Alas! How could I, her sad Fate have known
how dark winds, her dearest life with Fate sealed
Foul and wicked Wind's evil had thus blown
tragic death, no prayer could have repealed!
Her home blown into badly broken heaps
her fragile body under massive weight
My soul cried out, in greatest depths sad weeps
for evil often works with Hand Of Fate!
Then destroyed, my once so happy belief
in love's magic and promised paradise
From this darkened world, I found no relief
just enough bread and water to suffice!
Once thinking of death by gun or short rope
in love-lost grief life, nothing came around
Then I recalled, hope, her last name was Hope
in that word, my recovery was found!
Robert J. Lindley, 1-18-2017
Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10
Total # Syllables: 240
Total # Words: 186
Note- A sad one , because life with its joys , often brings in tragic and sad events..
We that survive such must learn to live with it and always have hope in future happiness and love of family...
0' Soul, Can Poetic Art Heal Such Broken Heart
Her pen bled deep, and this her fans may yet agree
She felt a torrid hell, darkest of angry seas
Should her pen have conquered deepest of her fears
Could her poems have stopped flow of her falling tears?
Although we may stand aghast at sorrows once seen
Her agony in ink, shows true as Nature's green
Of a poet facing darkness, death and its gloom
Fully aware of life's end, its rest in the tomb.
Seeker of more, Death haunted her with mortal strife
With pains and dying of beloved ones in her life
0' soul, can poetic art heal such broken heart
In glory, renewal of spirit thus impart?
Her pen bled deep, and this her fans may yet agree
Immense sorrows and beauty in her poetry!
Robert J. Lindley, 10-24-2019
Sonnet, ( First poet honored, Renewed Poet's Tribute Series)
Emily Dickinison,
Bio-
1.
https://www.google.com/search?q=emily+dickinson+biography&oq=emily+dickinson&aqs=chrome.5.69i57j0l5.7054j0j8&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8
Emily Dickinson
Biography
DescriptionEmily Elizabeth Dickinson was an American poet. Dickinson was born in Amherst, Massachusetts, into a prominent family with strong ties to its community. Wikipedia
Born: December 10, 1830, Amherst, MA
Died: May 15, 1886, Amherst, MA
Education: Amherst Academy (1840–1847), Mount Holyoke College, Amherst College
Influenced by: Ralph Waldo Emerson, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, William Blake
2. https://www.britannica.com/biography/Emily-Dickinson
Dear Emily, 'the Recluse of Amherst'
In my university days, you burned in me
As a dazzling flame of endless inspiration.
As I sit to write to you, your soul in its depth I see
And it speaks to me, still giving endless motivation.
Your concise and crisp musings, penned years ago,
Continue to light poetic sparks in my soul.
Your poetry is like a whispered secret still aglow
As a recluse, you hid yourself. From the crowd you stole.
Your poems give a glimpse into the workings of your heart
Your thoughts, bold and subtle speaks directly to me.
As I think of you, through my mind, emotions of awe dart.
Staying aloof, you watched nature and animals closely.
In your poems, you elevated the mundane to the sublime.
‘If I could Stop one Heart from Breaking’_
This poem, stays immortal in all time.
Your musings on life and nature are breathtaking.
Dear Emily, you shouldn’t have hidden your light,
Like a lamp under the bushel. Sad, your poems you buried,
Abhorrent of publicity, but posthumously came into limelight.
Now across oceans and tides, they are avidly ferried.
A sprinkle of sage enhances the flavour of rice
A sage enhances the flavour of life.
. ~~~~~~~~~~
A Tribute to Brian Strand
Written: December 30, 2009
An Emily:is a 2(or sometimes 3) line paradox form of poetry created by Brian Strand
(labelled thus, inspired by Emily Dickinson poem 1732).It may or may not have a title,uses a
word with separate meanings,(or one that sounds the same,with a different spelling) with the
intention to mean several things; thereby, to enhance the thought's ambiguity/enigma.
I’m somebody! Who are you?
Are you somebody too?
Then there’s a pair of us – do tell!
We must advertise – you know!
How dreary to be nobody!
More worthless than a frog
Who without a name - croaks all day
To be a bump on a log!
Dear Emily,
When you said, your “life closed twice before its close,”
I realized how badly your heart had been broken
You conveyed your feelings best with the written word
But did you leave too many words unspoken?
Sadly, this has been the case for me too
Relationships have suffered from this mistake
I release pain through my pen, emulating you
In my bed alone I try to tune out heartache
You called yourself “Nobody”; that goes for me as well
No children, no spouse, I seem to be invisible
As through crowds I drift, people look right through me
And errors I’ve made always seem unforgivable
When you composed, “I could not stop for death”
Did you peer at the future, see my health struggles
The reaper awaits; I’ll soon draw my last breath
Isolated like you, I don’t share my troubles
Although you achieved no fame in your lifetime
I read your words often and have memorized some
I grow through your poetry, they help me climb
With your spirit in my heart, easily my words come
*Written May 20, 2014
She never did come back home that night
Me pacing the floor
Walking for miles in search of her
Leaving me torn apart
Spewing with the turmoil of wondering
Just what happened to her
Who had she been with and why?
Engraved on to my mind
her name
etched in my heart
her love, her sighs
Spiking my tongue
her name cries out
My heart splinters
my gut receives another jolt
God I loved that girl
and didn't even know for certain until today
But now it is too late
I left it too long
to proclaim my love for her
afraid of the pain
which comes from being knocked back
still even that is not as I suffer now
in the whispering of her name
I look in the mirror
yet see her reflection stare back at me
smiling and tossing back her flowing locks
her very presence is felt in abundance
Her huge eyes dark as purest deepest sapphires
class more expensive than purest diamonds
with a charismatic magnetism radiating out
overwhelming all within reach of her personality
Stolen from this world she was
No notice to anyone that she would be leaving
Nothing makes sense anymore
And I long to know if we shall meet again
Some new day in a realm beyone ours
Another time another place
I'll wait for her as I hope she will for me
For true love will never die
Based on a true story from Christmas when a young woman went missing - found murdered... My thoughts went to those around her and inspired to write came this, but I have changed the girls name for the sake of those that knew her... So sad to still have these things going onin our world...
“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul – and sings the tunes without the words – and never stops at all.” - Emily Dickinson
Her soul, composed of poetry
Breathed light and reflected mystery
In shadows secreted deep within
Where silence seemed her only friend
Her heart, colored in hues of hope
Prayed peace through the innocence
Abiding where the stillness was lost
In the wonder hiding beneath her thoughts
Her soul, stirred by each make believe
Dreams faithful to the rumors so unique
Rich and vibrant hues of eternity rising
Through the stardust raining across a life
Her heart, erasing every doubt with truth
Beckons for the laughter, the graceful
Sincerity of a kindness so deep and good
Falling gently, like fresh snow, in whispers
Her soul, singing merrily of joys buried
Beneath the silhouettes of sadness and sorrow
Leaving imprints, notes of encouragement
Wounding the doubts with serenity, assurance
Her heart, conquering all the faded feelings
Who guided her to listen to all she’s concealing
The beauty and grace, the inspiration and faith
All of the soft winds who beckoned her to hear
Her soul, heeding the light – the lingering love
Sent down from above, where His kindness
Grows smiles as He gentles the trials, the hurting
Becomes like a long ago dawn who recalls the night
Her heart, aching to understand the breathtaking
Stillness, lasting through the storms, delaying
Suspicions and promising that His way, His blessing
Will bring only good things, miracles to believe in
Her heart – Her soul… they’re an open door
To the marvel, the mercy, the message…
That love from above will always find a way
To pierce the uncertainty with a belief that vows…
Forever is found in the peace that comes to life
Just beyond the kiss of sun, the caress of moon,
Where Jesus walked and talked and gave each one
The opportunity to believe in His everlasting life!
Let His love flow…
And grow – a light
That never fades
Young Emily sat gazing at a door, that with careful strokes was painted..
a starry, but moonless night.
In wandering dreams of far away lands, nameless artist unacquainted,
she wond'red what lay beyond the door held tight.
Her knees, now drawn together, gently touched beneath her chin,
were clasped by all ten fingers,
cloaked in silky smooth skin.
Just then did the door utter softly, three words from four worldly tongues...
in Mandarin, Hindi, Gaelic, and Greek, as if from heroes long dead and unsung...
Though Emily sat listening to each word that was spoken,
she understood not even one,
languages left old, yet unbroken,
from under a forgotten Sun.
Like a great bard the door, in even older languages said aloud.
In Tamil, Persian, Hebrew, Irish, and Basque...
As if finally by fate the three words "Please open me" were endowed...
Emily, now standing, said...
"You needed only to ask".
I forgive you dear Emily,
For you are more than fair;
Your flirty eyes give promise,
Your pouty lips don't care.
From the tilt of your head,
My heart it could break;
Your silken cheek with blush,
Where pretty dimples wake.
The mayhem in your eyes,
That will not look at me;
There the damage lies,
There for all to see.
You wink coquettish lash,
To entice me in the night;
Would the knowing of your heart,
Make everything alright?
What your callous lips may say,
Your naughty eyes deny;
What a tease dear Emily,
Enough to make me cry.
With you, Emily,
I desire everything,
Some blackcurrant ice cream,
From gondolas to Venice,
Without you, Emily,
I don’t want anything,
With you, Emily,
I desire everything,
From Connecticut,
Of fine musical,
Without you, Emily,
I don’t want anything,
With you, Emily,
I love everything,
To jump in a balloon,
Flying over New York,
Without you, Emily,
I don’t want anything,
With you Beatrice,
I desire everything,
To suck on lullabies
To write poems,
Without you, Beatrice,
I don’t want anything,
With you, Emily
I desire everything,
To see the pyramids,
To steal the Mona Lisa,
Without you, ladies
I’m too sincere,
I can’t forgive people.
Dear Emily,
In the quiet of Amherst, your words still bloom,
"Hope is the thing with feathers," you penned in your room.
Your verses, like the breeze, traverse time's vast sea,
Yet, dear Emily, a suggestion from me.
Your solitude crafted such delicate lines,
But what if your thoughts had danced in the pines?
Among the living, where laughter is heard,
Would your quill have captured a different word?
"Tell all the truth but tell it slant," you advised,
Yet in life's full extent, what truths might arise?
Step out, dear poet, from your reclusive shade,
And let the world's full spectrum in your ink cascade.
"I dwell in Possibility," you wrote with such grace,
But what if possibility had a different face?
Beyond the confines of your homely retreat,
Could your verses have found a more vibrant beat?
Dear Emily, your legacy, tender and grand,
Forever will echo through time's shifting sand.
Yet, I wonder, if you had fulfilled the world's hue,
What new shades of truth might have blossomed through you?
— — — — — —
A walk through the old town
and a girl on the street near the stone bridge.
Brown eyes with withered memory
covered the crying soul,
which wiped the sand of the past from the shoes.
Heart oppressed by the coldness of the mountain
overhanging the walnut crown.
The Tao of Time pushes the heartless crowd,
which tears the curds and stains your dress.
Where did you lose your dream, Emily?
And how did your joy break on the cobblestones?
*
Your way into the unknown within yourself
is a walk by the lake of secrets.
An ordinary autumn day when you borrow a new dream from fingers in your hair.
A Kiss by the old tower
where the chains of the past rattle.
Illusionist from Hudson River,
binds your heart carefully while you watch how,
with his bare hands,
unlocks the chest of secrets.
*
Kisses for the body and words
which I write on your stomach and chest.
Thoughtful over the verses of the prayer
by the light of a cigarette
at night you read the symbols on my skin.
Fingers around the waist,
they take off the longing bright moonlight
while white light is approaching
over the surface of dark water
and climbs onto our table full of fate cards.
*
A hug in the middle of the room
and trembling of the body tinged with fear.
A nest full of silence
delivers chest pain.
The stars are whispering from the heavens
soothing plan for the days to come.
Just lean back and listen to what your heart tells you,
that’s the dream looking for you, Emily.
— — —# — — —