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Tag: Death

XXI. He Ate and Drank the Precious Words
Life

XXI. He Ate and Drank the Precious Words

August 2, 2017July 30, 2017 benwdaltonAsideLeave a comment

XXI.

He ate and drank the precious words,
His spirit grew robust;
He knew no more that he was poor,
Only that his frame was rust.
He was a car.
A dead car.

XXI. Not in This World to See His Face
Horrible Death

XXI. Not in This World to See His Face

July 25, 2017July 23, 2017 benwdaltonLeave a comment

…sounds long, but wait until you hear this…

XX. The Last Night That She Lived
The Single Hound

XX. The Last Night That She Lived

July 23, 2017 benwdaltonLeave a comment

…it was a common night, except for the ghosts…

XVIII. There Is A Silly Goofiness
The Single Hound

XVIII. There Is A Silly Goofiness

July 15, 2017July 15, 2017 benwdaltonAsideLeave a comment

XVIII.

There is a silly Goofiness
That many die without,
Not feeling great that moment,
’Cause dying sucks a lot.

But nature sometimes, sometimes thought,
That whoso it befall
Laughs more than could be divulged
By banal folderol.

 

—

Dickinson’s final draft.

XIX. To Know Just How She Suffered Would Be Dear
Horrible Death

XIX. To Know Just How She Suffered Would Be Dear

July 7, 2017July 7, 2017 benwdaltonLeave a comment

She really deserved it.

XVIII. God Permits Industrious Basilisks
Horrible Death

XVIII. God Permits Industrious Basilisks

July 5, 2017July 5, 2017 benwdaltonLeave a comment

…afternoons to play…

XVI. The Clouds Their Backs Together Laid
Horrible Death

XVI. The Clouds Their Backs Together Laid

May 30, 2017May 29, 2017 benwdaltonAsideLeave a comment

XVI.

The clouds their backs together laid,
The north begun to push,
The forests galloped till they fell,
The lightning skipped like mice;
The thunder crumbled like a stuff—
How nice I have a gnome cave,
Where nature’s temper cannot reach,
Nor bigger people ever come!

 

—

The graver original.

Gothic door in the side of a stone church XV. I’ve Seen A Dying Eye
Horrible Death

XV. I’ve Seen A Dying Eye

May 22, 2017May 22, 2017 benwdaltonAsideLeave a comment

XV.

I’ve seen a dying eye
Run round and round a room
In search of something, likely its head,
Then cloudier become;
And then, obscure with fog,
Annoyed at falling out,
Blink thrice in quick succession,
Surprised its eyelids were still attached.

 

—

The original.

XIV. I Went to Thank Her
Horrible Death

XIV. I Went to Thank Her

May 10, 2017May 9, 2017 benwdaltonLeave a comment

…but you won’t believe what happened NEXT!

XI. How Many Times These Low Feet Staggered
Horrible Death

XI. How Many Times These Low Feet Staggered

April 10, 2017April 9, 2017 benwdaltonImageLeave a comment

I don’t have time to count. Throw the switch!

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