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​FeBREWary 2020

No poet wrote more poetry about coffee and caffeine than Emmett Lee Dickinson (Emily Dickinson's third cousin, twice removed -- at her request). 

Every day throughout the month of February 2020
(or FeBREWary as we like to call it)
we'll post one of Dickinson's coffee poems about coffee --
along with the poem by
Emily Dickinson that it inspired. 

So dive into a cup of Dickinson's coffee poetry this month
as we post twenty-nine more of the Master's poems!

FeBREWary 1

By Emily Dickinson:
 
The ones that disappeared are back
The Phoebe and the Crow
Precisely as in March is heard
The curtness of the Jay –
Be this an Autumn or a Spring
My wisdom loses way
One side of me the nuts are ripe
The other side is May.

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

The hours that disappeared are back
The Buzzer on the Clock
Precisely as each Morn is heard
The curtness of its Shock –
Be this a Weekend or a Week
My wisdom finds its way
One side of me my cup is full
The other side is Day.

Picture

Picture

FeBREWary 2

By Emily Dickinson:
 
Peril as a Possession
'Tis Good to hear
Danger disintegrates Satiety
There's Basis there --
Begets an awe
That searches Human Nature's creases
As clean as Fire.

 By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
 
Coffee as a Possession
’Tis Good to hold
Flavor authenticates Satiety
There’s Power bold –
Begets an awe
That wakens Human Nature’s courage
As day takes Fire.


FeBREWary 3

By Emily Dickinson:

The gleam of an heroic Act
Such strange illumination
The Possible's slow fuse is lit
By the Imagination.

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

The gleam of an heroic Act
With no exaggeration
The Possible’s slow fuse is lit
By daily Percolation

Picture

Picture

FeBREWary 4

By Emily Dickinson:

The immortality she gave
We borrowed at her Grave –
For just one Plaudit famishing,
The Might of Human love –


By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

The immortality it gives
We borrow at first Light –
From just one Coffee finishing, 
The Might of Human life –


FeBREWary 5

By Emily Dickinson:
 
If I could tell how glad I was
I should not be so glad --
But when I cannot make the Force,
Nor mould it into Word,
I know it is a sign
That new Dilemna be
From mathematics further off
Than for Eternity.

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
 
If you could tell how tired I am
I should not be so tired –
And when I cannot make the Force
Nor brew it into Joe,
I know it is a sign
That new Dilemma be
Life’s dynamics’s further off
Than all my Energy

Picture

Picture

FeBREWary 6

By Emily Dickinson:
 
Morning that comes but once,
Considers coming twice --
Two Dawns upon a single Morn,
Make Life a sudden price.


By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
 
Morning that comes but once,
Consider drinking twice –
Two Joes upon a single Morn,
Makes Life a paradise.



FeBREWary 7

By Emily Dickinson:
 
Immured in Heaven!
What a Cell!
Let every Bondage be,
Thou sweetest of the Universe,
Like that which ravished thee!

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

It’s brewed in Heaven!
What a Cup!
Let every Brewing be
The sweetest of the Universe,
Like that which re-woke thee!


Picture

Picture

FeBREWary 8

By Emily Dickinson:
 
The Clock strikes one that just struck two –
Some schism in the Sum –
A Vagabond for Genesis
Has wrecked the Pendulum –

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
 
The Clock strikes six that just struck five –
Some schism of the Sun –
A Coffee Pot for Genesis
Has swelled Adrenaline –


FeBREWary 9

By Emily Dickinson:

Image of Light, Adieu –
Thanks for the interview –
So long – so short –
Preceptor of the whole –
Coeval Cardinal –
Impart – Depart –

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
               
Image of Light, A cup –
Thanks for the point of view –
So rich -- so right –
Preceptor of the whole –
Jostling Jitter-Juice
Empower – Delight –


Picture

Picture

FeBREWary 10

By Emily Dickinson:

The pattern of the sun
Can fit but him alone
For sheen must have a Disk
To be a sun –

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

The pattern of the sun
Can lift me ev’ry morn
But I must have a Cup
To be reborn –


FeBREWary 11

By Emily Dickinson:

Long Years apart – can make no
Breach a second cannot fill –
The absence of the Witch does not
Invalidate the spell –

The embers of a Thousand Years
Uncovered by the Hand
That fondled them when they were Fire
Will stir and understand –

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

Long Hours asleep – can make no
Trance a coffee cannot foil –
The presence of the Brew each day
Is life’s essential oil –
 
The slumber of a Thousand Years
Awakened by the Joe
Is kindled then and who partakes
Will stir and come to know –

Picture

Picture

FeBREWary 12

By Emily Dickinson:

Publication – is the Auction
Of the Mind of Man –
Poverty – be justifying
For so foul a thing

Possibly – but We – would rather
From Our Garret go
White – Unto the White Creator –
Than invest – Our Snow –

Thought belong to Him who gave it –
Then — to Him Who bear
Its Corporeal illustration – Sell
The Royal Air –

In the Parcel – Be the Merchant
Of the Heavenly Grace –
But reduce no Human Spirit
To Disgrace of Price –


By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

Percolation – is Salvation
Of the Mind of Man –
Revival – by justifying
For so great a thing
 
Possibly – but We – would rather
In our Chamber stay
Warm – Under the Warm Comforter –
Than invest – in Day –
 
All belongs to He who brews it –
Then – to Him Who bears
Incomparable Percolation – Smell
The Royal Air –
 
In the Pot now – Be the Merchant
Of the Heavenly Grace
That increases Human Spirit
To its Rightful Place –

 

FeBREWary 13

By Emily Dickinson:

Warm in her Hand these accents lie
While faithful and afar
The Grace so awkward for her sake
Its fond subjection wear –


By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

Warm in my Hand the coffee lies
It’s faithful and afire
My Face so awkward till I slake
To find it take me higher –

Picture

Picture

FeBREWary 14

By Emily Dickinson:
 
The Sun is one – and on the Tare
He doth as punctual call
As on the conscientious Flower
And estimates them all –

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

The Sun is one – who in the Morn
Doth make a punctual call
And in the most ungodly Hour
A Joe to spur the stall –

FeBREWary 15

By Emily Dickinson:

Our share of night to bear,
Our share of morning,
Our blank to bliss to fill,
Our blank in scorning.
 
Here a star, and there a star,
Some lose their way.
Here a mist, and there a mist,
Afterwards – day!

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

My share of night to bear,
My share of sunrise,
My day of life to fill,
My day to reprise.
 
Here a joe, and there a joe,
I find my way.
Here a mug, and there a mug,
Afterwards – day!

Picture

Picture

FeBREWary 16

By Emily Dickinson:

A Pit – but Heaven over it –
And Heaven beside, and Heaven abroad,
And yet a Pit –
With Heaven over it.

To stir would be to slip –
To look would be to drop –
To dream – to sap the Prop
That holds my chances up.
Ah! Pit! With Heaven over it!

The depth is all my thought –
I dare not ask my feet –
'Twould start us where we sit
So straight you'd scarce suspect
It was a Pit – with fathoms under it –
Its Circuit just the same.
Seed — summer — tomb --
Whose Doom to whom?
’Twould start them
We – could tremble –
But since we got a Bomb –
And held it in our Bosom –
Nay – Hold it – it is calm –

 
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

A Pot – but Heaven inside it –
And Heaven within, and Heaven throughout,
And yet a Pot –
With Heaven inside it.
 
To stir and then to sip –
To drink each single drop –
To dream – to sip Non-Stop
It holds my spirit up.
Ah! Pot! With Heaven inside it!
 
Its depth is all my thought –
It makes my life complete –
It starts me when I rise
Each day I’d scarce suspect
It is a Pot – with energy in it –
It’s Coffee just the same.
Brew – simmer – pour –
To Own the day!
’Twould start me
I – would tremble –
But since I have a Joe –
I hold it to my Kisser –
Nay – Drink it – I am calm –

 

FeBREWary 17

By Emily Dickinson:

They have a little Odor – that to me
Is metre – nay – 'tis melody –
And spiciest at fading – indicate –
A Habit – of a Laureate –


By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

It has a rich Aroma – that to me
Is magic – nay – ’tis ecstasy –
And vitalest at rising -- indicates
A Habit – of a Fanatic

Picture

Picture

FeBREWary 18

By Emily Dickinson:

There is a pain – so utter –
It swallows substance up –
Then covers the Abyss with Trance –
So Memory can step
Around – across – upon it –
As one within a Swoon –
Goes safely – where an open eye –
Would drop Him – Bone by Bone.

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

There is a pain – so utter –
Each dawn when I get up –
The covers uncover my Trance –
Through Memory I step
Around – across – about it –
As one within a Swoon –
I stumble -- with unopened eyes –
Till I drink – Joe by Joe.


FeBREWary 19

By Emily Dickinson:

It is the Meek that Valor wear
Too mighty for the Bold.

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

It is the Sleep the Weary wear
So ready for a Joe.

Picture
Picture

FeBREWary 20

By Emily Dickinson:

Is Heaven a Physician?
They say that He can heal –
But Medicine Posthumous
Is unavailable –
Is Heaven an Exchequer?
They speak of what we owe –
But that negotiation
I'm not a Party to –


By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

Is Coffee a Physician?
I say that It can heal –
When Morning Mud Past Sunrise
Is available –
Is Coffee an Abettor?
I say that I can crow –
When after percolation
Life’s a Party too –

FeBREWary 21

By Emily Dickinson:

The Pile of Years is not so high
As when you came before
But it is rising every Day
From recollection's Floor
And while by standing on my Heart
I still can reach the top
Efface the mountain with your face
And catch me ere I drop


By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

The Pile of Hours is now so deep
As those that came before
But I am rising every Day
From recollection’s Floor
And while by standing in my Room
I try to reach my cup
To race the coffee to my face
So that I do not drop

Picture

Picture

FeBREWary 22

By Emily Dickinson:

“Good night,” because we must!
How intricate the Dust!
I would go to know –
Oh Incognito!

Saucy, saucy Seraph,
To elude me so!
Father! they won't tell me!
Won't you tell them to?

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

“Good morn,” because we must!
How intricate the Day!
Off to work I go –
My Alter Ego!
 
Coffee, coffee Angel,
Do not elude me!
Stronger! I need it so!
Won’t you set me free?


FeBREWary 23

By Emily 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!

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

It’s such a simple thing to sleep –
So tough a thing to rise –
And so – each Day – the need for Joes
We men and women prize!

Picture
Picture

FeBREWary 24

By Emily Dickinson:

A Wife – at daybreak I shall be –
Sunrise – Hast thou a Flag for me?
At Midnight, I am but a Maid,
How short it takes to make a Bride –
Then – Midnight, I have passed from thee
Unto the East, and Victory –

Midnight – Good Night! I hear them call,
The Angels bustle in the Hall –
Softly my Future climbs the Stair,
I fumble at my Childhood's prayer
So soon to be a Child no more –
Eternity, I'm coming – Sire,
Savior – I've seen the face – before!

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

Alive – at daybreak I shall be –
Sunrise – Hast thou a Mug for me?
At Midmorn, I drink what is Made,
How short it takes to make a Life –
Then – Midmorn, I pass by degree
Unto my Work, and Victory –
 
Midday – Good Day!  I need a cup,
Baristas bustle in the Shop –
Slowly my Future starts to Wear
I stumble for a Caffeine prayer
And soon to be Alive some more –
Identity, is coming – Sure,
Java – I need the taste – to roar!


FeBREWary 25

By Emily Dickinson:

A nearness to Tremendousness –
An Agony procures –
Affliction ranges Boundlessness –
Vicinity to Laws

Contentment's quiet Suburb –
Affliction cannot stay
In Acres – Its Location
Is Illocality –

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

A nearness to Tremendousness –
A Cup of Joe procures –
Ingestion brings on Boundlessness –
Vicinity to “Ahs”
 
Attainment after Slumber –
Addiction every day
In Measures – its Translation
Is Verticality –


Picture

Picture

FeBREWary 26

By Emily Dickinson:

The pattern of the sun
Can fit but him alone
For sheen must have a Disk
To be a sun –

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

The pattern of the sun
Can bring each day a groan
For I must have a Joe
To greet the sun –


FeBREWary 27

By Emily Dickinson:

Of Glory not a Beam is left
But her Eternal House –
The Asterisk is for the Dead,
The Living, for the Stars –


By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

Oh Worry not a Bean is left
In this Infernal House –
The Cuppa that is for the Dead,
For Living life to Start –

Picture

Picture

FeBREWary 28

By Emily Dickinson:

Why should we hurry – why indeed?
When every way we fly
We are molested equally
By immortality.
No respite from the inference
That this which is begun,
Though where its labors lie
A bland uncertainty
Besets the sight
This mighty night –


By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

Why should I hurry – why indeed?
When every way I fly
It seems I’m tested frequently
By verticality.
No respite from the inference
The work day has begun,
That’s where my labors lie
With branded certainty
For life I owe
A mighty joe –

 

FeBREWary 29

By Emily Dickinson:

The Sun in reining to the West
Makes not as much of sound
As Cart of man in road below
Adroitly turning round
That Whiffetree of Amethyst

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

The Sun is rising in the East
The clock alarms its sound
The Cars of man on roads below
Adroitly turning round
The Parking lots of Coffee Shops

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​Click the buttons below to read our previous years' posts with 197 of Dickinson's coffee poems!
What are you waiting for?  Pour a cup, and start clicking!

2013
2014
2015
2016
2017
2018
2019
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