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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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Apocalypse. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

 I’m wife; I’ve finished that,    That other state;    I’m Czar, I’m woman now:    It’s safer so.     How odd the girl’s life looks    Behind this soft eclipse!    I think that earth…

September 20, 2019
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Alpine Glow. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Our lives are Swiss, —So still, so cool,Till, some odd afternoon,The Alps neglect their curtains,And we look farther on. Italy stands the other side,While, like…

September 20, 2019December 12, 2019
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Along The Potomac. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

When I was small, a woman died.    To-day her only boy    Went up from the Potomac,    His face all victory,     To look at her; how slowly    The seasons must…

September 20, 2019
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Almost! By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

  Within my reach!    I could have touched!    I might have chanced that way!    Soft sauntered through the village,    Sauntered as soft away!    So unsuspected violets    Within the fields lie low,    Too late…

September 20, 2019
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Aftermath. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

  The murmuring of bees has ceased;    But murmuring of some    Posterior, prophetic,    Has simultaneous come, —     The lower metres of the year,    When nature’s laugh is done, —    The Revelations…

September 20, 2019
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Afraid? Of Whom Am I Afraid? By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Afraid? Of whom am I afraid?    Not death; for who is he?    The porter of my father’s lodge    As much abasheth me.     Of life? ‘T were odd I…

September 20, 2019
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Adrift! A Little Boat Adrift! By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Adrift! A little boat adrift!    And night is coming down!    Will no one guide a little boat    Unto the nearest town?     So sailors say, on yesterday,    Just as the…

September 20, 2019
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A Word. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

 A word is dead    When it is said,    Some say.    I say it just    Begins to live    That day.

September 20, 2019
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A Well. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

 What mystery pervades a well!    The water lives so far,    Like neighbor from another world    Residing in a jar.     The grass does not appear afraid;    I often wonder he    Can…

September 20, 2019
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A Train Went Through A Burial Gate, By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

  A train went through a burial gate,    A bird broke forth and sang,    And trilled, and quivered, and shook his throat    Till all the churchyard rang;     And then…

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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