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Mad for Poetry

The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad for life, mad for talking, mad for poetry.

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Author: Samantha Evans

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From The Chrysalis. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

My cocoon tightens, colors tease,    I’m feeling for the air;    A dim capacity for wings    Degrades the dress I wear.     A power of butterfly must be    The aptitude to…

September 20, 2019
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Fringed Gentian. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

  God made a little gentian;    It tried to be a rose    And failed, and all the summer laughed.    But just before the snows    There came a purple creature    That ravished…

September 20, 2019
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Friends. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Are friends delight or pain?    Could bounty but remain    Riches were good.     But if they only stay    Bolder to fly away,    Riches are sad.

September 20, 2019
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Frequently The Woods Are Pink, By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Frequently the woods are pink,    Frequently are brown;    Frequently the hills undress    Behind my native town.     Oft a head is crested    I was wont to see,    And as oft a…

September 20, 2019
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Forgotten. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

There is a word    Which bears a sword    Can pierce an armed man.    It hurls its barbed syllables,–    At once is mute again.    But where it fell    The saved will tell    On…

September 20, 2019
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Forbidden Fruit. II. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Heaven is what I cannot reach!    The apple on the tree,    Provided it do hopeless hang,    That ‘heaven’ is, to me.     The color on the cruising cloud,    The interdicted…

September 20, 2019
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Forbidden Fruit. I. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Forbidden fruit a flavor has    That lawful orchards mocks;    How luscious lies the pea within    The pod that Duty locks!

September 20, 2019
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Following. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

I had no cause to be awake,    My best was gone to sleep,    And morn a new politeness took,    And failed to wake them up,     But called the…

September 20, 2019
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Fire. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Ashes denote that fire was;    Respect the grayest pile    For the departed creature’s sake    That hovered there awhile.     Fire exists the first in light,    And then consolidates, —    Only the…

September 20, 2019
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Few Get Enough By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

 Few get enough, — enough is one;    To that ethereal throng    Have not each one of us the right    To stealthily belong?

September 20, 2019

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Mad For Poetry

Mad For Poetry

Poesia Poetry Journal! Have a Read.

  • Issue #1 – Mad for Poetry / Pazzi per la Poesia

Mad for Poetry

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