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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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A Day. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

  I’ll tell you how the sun rose, —    A ribbon at a time.    The steeples swam in amethyst,    The news like squirrels ran.     The hills untied their bonnets,    The…

September 20, 2019
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A Country Burial. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

 Ample make this bed.    Make this bed with awe;    In it wait till judgment break    Excellent and fair.     Be its mattress straight,    Be its pillow round;    Let no sunrise’ yellow…

September 20, 2019
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A Clock Stopped — Not The Mantel’s; By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

 A Clock Stopped — Not The Mantel’s;    Geneva’s farthest skill    Can’t put the puppet bowing    That just now dangled still.     An awe came on the trinket!    The figures hunched…

September 20, 2019
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A Charm Invests A Face By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

A charm invests a face    Imperfectly beheld, —    The lady dare not lift her veil    For fear it be dispelled.     But peers beyond her mesh,    And wishes, and denies,…

September 20, 2019
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A Book. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

    There is no frigate like a book    To take us lands away,    Nor any coursers like a page    Of prancing poetry.    This traverse may the poorest take    Without oppress of…

September 20, 2019
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A Book. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

    He ate and drank the precious words,    His spirit grew robust;    He knew no more that he was poor,    Nor that his frame was dust.    He danced along the…

September 20, 2019
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“Your Riches Taught Me Poverty.” By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

  Your riches taught me poverty.    Myself a millionnaire    In little wealths, — as girls could boast, —    Till broad as Buenos Ayre,     You drifted your dominions    A different Peru;    And…

September 20, 2019
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“Who Robbed The Woods,” By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Who robbed the woods,    The trusting woods?    The unsuspecting trees    Brought out their burrs and mosses    His fantasy to please.    He scanned their trinkets, curious,    He grasped, he bore away.    What will…

September 20, 2019
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“Who Robbed The Woods,” By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

   Who robbed the woods,    The trusting woods?    The unsuspecting trees    Brought out their burrs and mosses    His fantasy to please.    He scanned their trinkets, curious,    He grasped, he bore away.    What will…

September 20, 2019
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“Whether My Bark Went Down At Sea,” By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

  Whether my bark went down at sea,    Whether she met with gales,    Whether to isles enchanted    She bent her docile sails;     By what mystic mooring    She is held to-day,…

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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