By Rebecca
i am poetry this is what poetry is
1. Someone is speaking to us about something which seriously concerns her/him.
2. The lyric poem issues from a self.
3. That self wants to make contact.
4. The poem always – just like a person -- has a voice, a recognizable and unique voice.
5. There is almost always an emotional tenor to a poem.
6. We are all so uncomfortable with ourselves that saying something important often requires us to be indirect.
7. It is always better to read several poems by a poet, rather than just one; always better to start with short poems rather than long ones.
8. Embrace strangeness. To do this, you will have to trust your imagination.
9. Try strangeness on for size: use yourself as a touchstone. To do this, you will have to trust your imagination.
10. The poem is an esthetic object: form and ‘beauty’ are always part of what is
going on in the poem.)
11. Every rule for reading poems, including numbers 1- 10, can be discarded except this rule: LISTEN to the poem.
1. Someone is speaking to us about something that seriously concerns her/him.


A lane of Yellow led the eye (1650) by Emily Dickinson
A lane of Yellow led the eye
Unto a Purple Wood
Whose soft inhabitants to be
Surpasses solitude
If Bird the silence contradict
Or flower presume to show
In that low summer of the West
Impossible to know -


A Man may make a Remark (952)
by Emily Dickinson

A Man may make a Remark -
In itself - a quiet thing
That may furnish the Fuse unto a Spark
In dormant nature - lain -

Let us divide - with skill -
Let us discourse - with care -
Powder exists in Charcoal -
Before it exists in Fire - rek


Because I could not stop for Death (712) by Emily Dickinson
Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.

We slowly drove – He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility –

We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess – in the Ring –
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –
We passed the Setting Sun –

Or rather – He passed us –
The Dews drew quivering and chill –
For only Gossamer, my Gown –
My Tippet – only Tulle –

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground –
The Roof was scarcely visible –
The Cornice – in the Ground –

Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity –

1. Someone is speaking to us about something which seriously concerns her/him.
2. The lyric poem issues from a self.
3. That self wants to make contact.
4. The poem always – just like a person -- has a voice, a recognizable and unique voice.
5. There is almost always an emotional tenor to a poem.
6. We are all so uncomfortable with ourselves that saying something important often requires us to be indirect.
7. It is always better to read several poems by a poet, rather than just one; always better to start with short poems rather than long ones.
8. Embrace strangeness. To do this, you will have to trust your imagination.
9. Try strangeness on for size: use yourself as a touchstone. To do this, you will have to trust your imagination.
10. The poem is an esthetic object: form and ‘beauty’ are always part of what is
going on in the poem.)
11. Every rule for reading poems, including numbers 1- 10, can be discarded except this rule: LISTEN to the poem.
1. Someone is speaking to us about something that seriously concerns her/him.


A lane of Yellow led the eye (1650) by Emily Dickinson
A lane of Yellow led the eye
Unto a Purple Wood
Whose soft inhabitants to be
Surpasses solitude
If Bird the silence contradict
Or flower presume to show
In that low summer of the West
Impossible to know -


A Man may make a Remark (952)
by Emily Dickinson

A Man may make a Remark -
In itself - a quiet thing
That may furnish the Fuse unto a Spark
In dormant nature - lain -

Let us divide - with skill -
Let us discourse - with care -
Powder exists in Charcoal -
Before it exists in Fire - rek


Because I could not stop for Death (712) by Emily Dickinson
Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.

We slowly drove – He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility –

We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess – in the Ring –
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –
We passed the Setting Sun –

Or rather – He passed us –
The Dews drew quivering and chill –
For only Gossamer, my Gown –
My Tippet – only Tulle –

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground –
The Roof was scarcely visible –
The Cornice – in the Ground –

Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity –

"Because i could not stop for death he kindly stoped for me the carigage held by just ourselves and imortality."