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/lit/ - Literature

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>> No.20723952 [View]
File: 680 KB, 800x980, Black-white_photograph_of_Emily_Dickinson2.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
20723952

Writers who were afraid of people and reserved.
First Emily Dickinson who was shy all her life and became a recluse in her mid 20s.

>> No.20701440 [View]
File: 680 KB, 800x980, Emily.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
20701440

Yes.

>> No.19439001 [View]
File: 680 KB, 800x980, 4865B1E7-24E8-4FBD-8A6A-81B76B07133D.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
19439001

why are most notable female poets same-sex attracted?

>> No.15876075 [View]
File: 680 KB, 800x980, Black-white_photograph_of_Emily_Dickinson2.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
15876075

>> No.15068604 [View]
File: 680 KB, 800x980, 800px-Black-white_photograph_of_Emily_Dickinson2.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
15068604

>>15068593

>> No.14651177 [View]
File: 680 KB, 800x980, 800px-Black-white_photograph_of_Emily_Dickinson2.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
14651177

>>14651105
Based authentic Emily poster

>> No.10725027 [View]
File: 680 KB, 800x980, dickinson.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
10725027

Post your favorite Emily Dickinson poems.

Some of mine:

Crumbling is not an instant's Act
A fundamental pause
Dilapidation's processes
Are organized Decays —

'Tis first a Cobweb on the Soul
A Cuticle of Dust
A Borer in the Axis
An Elemental Rust —

Ruin is formal — Devil's work
Consecutive and slow —
Fail in an instant, no man did
Slipping — is Crashe's law —

*

Those--dying then,
Knew where they went--
They went to God's Right Hand--
That Hand is amputated now
And God cannot be found--


The abdication of Belief
Makes the Behavior small--
Better an ignis fatuus--
Than no illume at all—

*

This World is not Conclusion.
A Species stands beyond -
Invisible, as Music -
But positive, as Sound -
It beckons, and it baffles -
Philosophy, dont know -
And through a Riddle, at the last -
Sagacity, must go -
To guess it, puzzles scholars -
To gain it, Men have borne
Contempt of Generations
And Crucifixion, shown -
Faith slips - and laughs, and rallies -
Blushes, if any see -
Plucks at a twig of Evidence -
And asks a Vane, the way -
Much Gesture, from the Pulpit -
Strong Hallelujahs roll -
Narcotics cannot still the Tooth
That nibbles at the soul –

*

I died for Beauty — but was scarce
Adjusted in the Tomb
When One who died
for Truth, was lain
In an adjoining room

He questioned softly "Why I failed"?
"For Beauty", I replied
"And I — for Truth — Themself are One
We Brethren, are", He said

And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night
We talked between the Rooms
Until the Moss had reached our lips
And covered up — our names

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