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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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Melodies Unheard. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Musicians wrestle everywhere:    All day, among the crowded air,    I hear the silver strife;    And — waking long before the dawn —    Such transport breaks upon the town    I think…

September 23, 2019
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Me! Come! My Dazzled Face By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

    Me! Come! My dazzled face    In such a shining place!     Me! Hear! My foreign ear    The sounds of welcome near!     The saints shall meet    Our bashful feet.     My…

September 23, 2019
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May-Flower. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Pink, small, and punctual,    Aromatic, low,    Covert in April,    Candid in May,     Dear to the moss,    Known by the knoll,    Next to the robin    In every human soul.     Bold little beauty,    Bedecked…

September 23, 2019
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March. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

    We like March, his shoes are purple,    He is new and high;    Makes he mud for dog and peddler,    Makes he forest dry;    Knows the adder’s tongue his coming,    And…

September 23, 2019
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Loyalty. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

    Split the lark and you’ll find the music,    Bulb after bulb, in silver rolled,    Scantily dealt to the summer morning,    Saved for your ear when lutes be old….

September 23, 2019
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Love. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Love is anterior to life,    Posterior to death,    Initial of creation, and    The exponent of breath.

September 23, 2019
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Love’s Humility. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

My worthiness is all my doubt,    His merit all my fear,    Contrasting which, my qualities    Do lowlier appear;     Lest I should insufficient prove    For his beloved need,    The chiefest apprehension    Within…

September 23, 2019
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Love’s Baptism. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

I’m ceded, I’ve stopped being theirs;    The name they dropped upon my face    With water, in the country church,    Is finished using now,    And they can put it with…

September 23, 2019
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Lost. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

    I lost a world the other day.    Has anybody found?    You’ll know it by the row of stars    Around its forehead bound.     A rich man might not notice…

September 23, 2019
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Lost Faith. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

    To lose one’s faith surpasses    The loss of an estate,    Because estates can be    Replenished, — faith cannot.     Inherited with life,    Belief but once can be;    Annihilate a single clause,    And…

September 23, 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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