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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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Like Mighty Footlights Burned The Red By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

  Like mighty footlights burned the red    At bases of the trees, —    The far theatricals of day    Exhibiting to these.     ‘T was universe that did applaud    While, chiefest of the crowd,    Enabled by his royal dress,    Myself distinguished God.

by Samantha EvansSeptember 23, 2019
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Life, And Death, And Giants By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Life, and Death, and Giants    Such as these, are still.    Minor apparatus, hopper of the mill,    Beetle at the candle,    Or a fife’s small fame,    Maintain by accident    That they proclaim.

September 23, 2019
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Life’s Trades. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

   It’s such a little thing to weep,    So short a thing to sigh;    And yet by trades the size of these    We men and women die!

September 23, 2019
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Let Down The Bars, O Death! By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

    Let down the bars, O Death!    The tired flocks come in    Whose bleating ceases to repeat,    Whose wandering is done.     Thine is the stillest night,    Thine the securest fold;    Too…

September 23, 2019
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Lay This Laurel On The One By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

 Lay this laurel on the one    Too intrinsic for renown.    Laurel! veil your deathless tree, —    Him you chasten, that is he!

September 23, 2019
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Joy In Death. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

 If tolling bell I ask the cause.    ‘A soul has gone to God,’    I’m answered in a lonesome tone;    Is heaven then so sad?     That bells should joyful…

September 23, 2019
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It’s All I Have To Bring To-Day, By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

It’S All I Have To Bring To-Day,    This, and my heart beside,    This, and my heart, and all the fields,    And all the meadows wide.    Be sure you count,…

September 23, 2019
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It Was Too Late For Man, By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

 It was too late for man,    But early yet for God;    Creation impotent to help,    But prayer remained our side.     How excellent the heaven,    When earth cannot be had;    How…

September 23, 2019
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It Was Not Death, For I Stood Up, By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

 It was not death, for I stood up,    And all the dead lie down;    It was not night, for all the bells    Put out their tongues, for noon….

September 23, 2019
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It Can’t Be Summer, By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

It can’t be summer, — that got through;    It ‘s early yet for spring;    There ‘s that long town of white to cross    Before the blackbirds sing.     It…

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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