Category Archives: poetry

Emily Dickinson’s #322

 

Symbolism and Natural Reading in Emily Dickinson’s #322

A close reading by Mark Anderson

 

            There came a Day at Summer’s full,                           1

            Entirely for me –                                                         2

            I thought that such were for the Saints,                     3         

            Where Resurrections – be ­–                                        4

 

            The Sun, as common, went abroad,                            5

            The flowers, accustomed, blew,                                 6

            As if no soul the solstice passed                                 7

            That maketh all things new –                                      8

 

            The time was scarce profaned, by speech –                9

            The symbol of a word                                                 10

            Was needless, as a Sacrament,                                    11

            The Wardrobe – of our Lord –                                   12

 

            Each was to each The Sealed Church,                        13

            Permitted to commune this – time –                           14       

            Lest we too awkward show                                        15

            At Supper of the Lamb.                                              16

 

            The Hours slid fast – as Hours will,                            17

            Clutched tight, by greedy hands –                             18

            So faces on two Decks, look back,                             19

            Bound to opposing lands –                                         20

 

            And so when all the time had leaked,                                    21

            Without external sound                                              22

            Each bound the Other’s Crucifix –                             23

            We gave no other bond –                                            24

 

            Sufficient troth, that we shall rise –                            25

            Deposed – at length, the Grave –                               26

            To that new Marriage,                                                 27

            Justified – through Calvaries of Love –                     28

 

(Final Harvest: Emily Dickinson’s Poems reference numbers added)

 For a close reading of this poem see the page listed in the right side bar “Eamily Dickinson’s #322; a close reading.”

 

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O my dog!

Kind of a poem, sort of;

I tried to put my dog in a box, a cute little box,

But he would not go in, just wagged his tail, wanted to play.

I tried to put my dog in a bigger box,

Do ya know what that dog said?

Now way I won’t stay.

Tried to put my dog in a big box, as big as my house,

but he ran away, would not stay.

One day I tried to get my dog into a huge box, big as my church.

He just turned away.

I tried to put my dog into the world’s biggest box, big as the sky!

I cried and said, “Why, won’t you please stay in my box?”

He just laughed at me and said,

“You silly boy, you can’t build a box big enough for me!

And I just will not stay, no way!”

Then my dog said to me,

“Welcome to my house, There’s plenty of room for you here!

Won’t you please come in?” So I did.

Mark a 2001


poem; Word smith

Word smith

Words wiggle free

Cannot be confined

imprisoned these

words that escape

floating freely

above intellectual

libraries of doom

 

words wiggle free

when held tightly

to confine floating

freely above all

human entrapment

singing they float

above, ascending

in circles to heights

where humans cannot

(copyright 2002 Mark A)


Poem-Trust

Aint gonna trust

no more

Hide my fear

deep inside

Trust

no more.

Aint gonna show

my hand.

Hide

my hand,

Play my cards,

Faces down,

show no one.

Aint gonna trust

no more,

Hide my fear,

Deep inside,

Trust

no more

No more,

Silly soft heart

Dark world,

shark world

Aint gonna trust

no more,

Hide my fear

deep inside

Trust

no more.

Light of life

lift me up

Help me trust

Don’t need

this pain.


surviving church

We can think of church as something that should bring us close to God. But how often do we experience a conflict and church seems to create an obstacle to God? Many of us even grow resentful towards church and flee from it. Young people may depart from the church and faith of their parents. These are typical of a growing faith where God may be calling us to look to Him beyond church.

For me to survive church I need a fiercely independent spirit that is more dependent upon God than people. I realize this is a paradox, that I am created with a need for people and community. To grow healthy my needs should be aligned under God’s authority.

To survive church I need to have healthy boundaries. I cannot let other people’s expectations become my rule of conduct.

To survive church I need a generous spirit towards others as they also struggle with these issues.

To survive church I need to keep focused on my Lord.

Eclipse

My mother’s religion hurts.

You’re greater than my mother.

I see you in her shadow.

She should be in your’s.

Tried to set my shadow free,

tripped up over my feet.

Guess I’m destined to misery,

as far as I can see.

A shadow hangin’ over me,

wets my spirit down.

See you through another’s eyes,

distorts the purest light.

For more on issues of dependency in relationships see the poem “Glow”


Old hippy; autobiography

I hate and despise authority,

until my car does not submit to its designed purpose to deliver me to my destination

I hate and despise authority,

until my computer does not submit to the command entered.

I hate and despise authority,

until I become a manager at my job.

I hate and despise authority,

until I become a school teacher.

I hate and despise authority,

until I need some cops, to save my ass from some gangsters.

I hate and despise authority,

until I become a father.

I hate and despise authority,

until I become an authority.

I hate and despise all authority!

Until our Creator, the only truly good authority,

reaches out to me.

In 1969 after a Crosby Stills n Nash concert my friends and I were attacked by some gangsters. Guess who saved us; cops. We called cops pigs back then. I had an attitude about authority and caused a lot of trouble. Looking back I think it was mostly anger at my father. Now I see authority as something universal even inherent in nature. It is necessary for society. It is the abuse and perversion of authority that is ugly.


Truth Bleeds

On the on-academic aspect of truth for us western, platonic, hyper rational ists.

TRUTH BLEEDS

I looked on the mountain for truth

in the cracks, on the peaks.

I looked in schools and books

until my head hurt.

I cried like a poet seeking truth.

A taste, a nibble,

aroma of truth

is all I could find, damn my mind.

Then wisdom spoke

to me, she cried,

she felt, she loved,

she healed, and she gave birth.

She bowed her head and surrendered

her life on the bloody tree

for me.