FEBREWARY 2016
|
No one wrote more poems about coffee than Emmett Lee Dickinson (Emily Dickinson's third cousin, twice removed -- at her request). Join us throughout the month of FeBREWary 2016 for the "Fourth Cup" of Dickinson poetry about coffee. You can also enjoy the first cup HERE, the second cup HERE, and the third cup HERE. The check back next FeBREWary, and we'll refill your cup! |
"If coffee be the cup of love, drink on!" ~ Emmett Lee Dickinson
When you scroll through the poetry below, you will notice that there are album covers featuring cups of coffee too. Why? It's all explained HERE.
FeBREWary 29
|
By Emily Dickinson:
Of whom so dear The name to hear Illumines with a Glow As intimate – as fugitive As sunset on the snow |
|
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
Of whom so dear The name to hear Illumines with a Glow As intimate – as fortunate As coffee on the go |
FeBREWary 28
|
By Emily Dickinson:
Oh give it Motion – deck it sweet With Artery and Vein – Upon its fastened Lips lay words – Affiance it again To that Pink stranger we call Dust – Acquainted more with that Than with this horizontal one That will not lift its Hat – |
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
Oh give me Motion – black or sweet Through Artery and Vein – Upon my trembling Lips lay joe – Enliven me again With that Dark comrade we call Mud – Awakened more with that I can take a vertical stance To lift and tip my Hat – |
FeBREWary 27
|
By Emily Dickinson:
On that specific Pillow Our projects flit away – The Night’s tremendous Morrow And whether sleep will stay Or usher us – a stranger – To situations new The effort to comprise it Is all the soul can do – |
|
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
On my specific Pillow My slumber flits away – The Night’s tremendous Morrow Is finally here to stay I quickly brew – a coffee – For situations new The effort to consume it Is all the soul can do – |
FeBREWary 26
|
By Emily Dickinson:
How much of Source escapes with thee – How chief thy sessions be – For thou hast borne a universe Entirely away. |
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
How much of life Erupts with thee – How chief thy life-source be – For thou hast borne a universe Entirely for me. |
|
FeBREWary 25
|
By Emily Dickinson:
Air has no Residence, no Neighbor, No Ear, no Door, No Apprehension of Another Oh, Happy Air! Ethereal Guest at e'en an Outcast's Pillow – Essential Host, in Life's faint, wailing Inn, Later than Light thy Consciousness accost me Till it depart, persuading Mine – |
|
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
Coffee has no Counterpart, no Neighbor, No Peer, No Match No Apprehension of Another Oh, Good Coffee! Energizing Zest for e’en an O’erspent Fellow – Essential Roast, of Life’s miracle Bean, Early when Light and Consciousness accost me Till I partake, reviving Me – |
FeBREWary 24
|
By Emily Dickinson:
The Soul has Bandaged moments – When too appalled to stir – She feels some ghastly Fright come up And stop to look at her – Salute her, with long fingers – Caress her freezing hair – Sip, Goblin, from the very lips The Lover – hovered – o'er – Unworthy, that a thought so mean Accost a Theme – so – fair – The soul has moments of Escape – When bursting all the doors – She dances like a Bomb, abroad, And swings upon the Hours, As do the Bee — delirious borne – Long Dungeoned from his Rose – Touch Liberty – then know no more, But Noon, and Paradise – The Soul's retaken moments – When, Felon led along, With shackles on the plumed feet, And staples, in the Song, The Horror welcomes her, again, These, are not brayed of Tongue – |
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
The Soul has Bandaged moments – When too appalled to stir – She feels that ghastly Sun come up And smacks the snooze alarm – Salute her, with some coffee – Desire it as it’s poured Sip, Coffee, from the very lips The Lover – hovered – o’er – So worthy, that a drink so strong Renews a Life – so – fair – The soul needs moments of Escape – When bursting through the door – And heading like a Bomb, to work, To toil among the Hours, And with my Joe – delightfully borne – I Live and with my Eyes – See Liberty -- then know the more My Life, and Paradise – The Soul’s rebooted moments – When, Coffee all day long, Frees my shackled feet, And lifts my life in Song, The Coffee revives me, again, Joes, are so prayed of Tongue – |
FeBREWary 23
|
By Emily Dickinson:
Put up my lute! What of – my Music! Since the sole ear I cared to charm – Passive – as Granite – laps my music – Sobbing – will suit – as well as psalm! Would but the "Memnon" of the Desert – Teach me the strain That vanquished Him – When He – surrendered to the Sunrise – Maybe – that – would awaken – them! |
|
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
Pick up my cup! What of – my Coffee! Since my sole care’s to try to rise – Passive – as Granite – lays my body – Sleeping – until – I wake my eyes! Would but the “Barista” of the Café – Teach me to brew The Coffee Bean – When I – surrender to the Sunrise – Maybe – that would awaken – me! |
FeBREWary 22
|
By Emily Dickinson:
If I shouldn't be alive When the Robins come, Give the one in Red Cravat A Memorial crumb. If I couldn't thank you, Being fast asleep, You will know I'm trying With my Granite lip! |
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
If I shudder to rise When the Mornings come Give me joe in one Tall Mug Even though I'm still numb. If I cannot thank you Being half asleep You will know I’m trying With my Trembling lip! |
|
FeBREWary 21
|
By Emily Dickinson:
A word is dead When it is said, Some say. I say it just Begins to live That day. |
|
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
The world’s renewed When Coffee’s brewed Some say. I say I just Begin to live That day. |
FeBREWary 20
|
By Emily Dickinson:
Must be a Wo – A loss or so To bend the eye Best Beauty's way – But – once aslant It notes Delight As difficult As Stalactite A Common Bliss Were had for less – The price – is Even as the Grace – Our Lord – thought no Extravagance To pay – a Cross – |
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
Must be a Joe – To gain a Glow To bend the eye Past Beauty’s way – And – once consumed It gives delight As vigorous As Dynamite Uncommon Bliss Though at the store – The price is Ever so much More – Oh Lord – though an Extravagance I pay – and Crave – |
FeBREWary 19
|
By Emily Dickinson:
Drowning is not so pitiful As the attempt to rise, Three times, 'tis said, a sinking man Comes up to face the skies, And then declines forever To that abhorred abode, Where hope and he part company – For he is grasped of God. The Maker's cordial visage, However good to see, Is shunned, we must admit it, Like an adversity. |
|
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
Waking is not so pitiful As the attempt to rise, Three times, ’tis said, a snooze alarm Is smacked for compromise. The clock ticks on forever To that abhorred moment, When bed and I part company – And I must grasp a Joe. The Coffee’s cordial odor, Forever good to smell, Is met, I must admit it, With my serenity. |
FeBREWary 18
|
By Emily Dickinson:
Time does go on – I tell it gay to those who suffer now – They shall survive – There is a sun – They don't believe it now – |
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
Time does go on – I’ll offer joe to those who suffer now – They shall survive – There is a sun – They don't believe it now – |
|
FeBREWary 17
|
By Emily Dickinson:
From Blank to Blank – A Threadless Way I pushed Mechanic feet – To stop – or perish – or advance – Alike indifferent – If end I gained It ends beyond Indefinite disclosed – I shut my eyes – and groped as well 'Twas lighter – to be Blind – |
|
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
From Day to Day – A Threadless Way I push Mechanic feet – I stop – or perish – or advance – Alike indifferent And then I gain My morning Joe And life is then disclosed – My eyes open – and go out as well I’m lighter – now Alive – |
FeBREWary 16
|
By Emily Dickinson:
I lived on Dread – To Those who know The Stimulus there is In Danger – Other impetus Is numb – and vitalless – As 'twere a Spur – upon the Soul – A Fear will urge it where To go without the sceptre's aid Were challenging Despair. |
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
I live on Mud – And Choose to know The Stimulus there is For Danger – Other morning drinks Are numb – and vitalless – As ’tis a Spur – upon the Soul – A Need and urge I say “To go” and with the coffee’s aid Face the challenging Day. |
FeBREWary 15
|
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:
There is a fragrant Odor – that to me Is metre – nay – ’tis melody – And spiciest at brewing – indicates – A Hot Pot – of Liquid Energy – |
FeBREWary 14
|
By Emily Dickinson:
Water makes many Beds For those averse to sleep – Its awful chamber open stands – Its Curtains blandly sweep – Abhorrent is the Rest In undulating Rooms Whose Amplitude no end invades – Whose Axis never comes. |
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
Water makes many Cups For those averse to sleep – The awe-filled vessel percolates – The Grounds begin to steep – Abhorrent is the Wait In aromatic Fumes With Certitude its end result – My Life’s sure to resume. |
|
FeBREWary 13
|
By Emily Dickinson:
Who never wanted – maddest Joy Remains to him unknown – The Banquet of Abstemiousness Defaces that of Wine – Within its reach, though yet ungrasped Desire's perfect Goal – No nearer – lest the Actual – Should disenthrall thy soul – |
|
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
Who never wanted – maddest Joe Remains to me unknown – The Bev’rage of Deliriousness Uplifting when it’s Mine – Within my reach, though yet ungrasped Desire’s perfect Goal – But nearer – sip the Actual – It does enthrall my soul – |
FeBREWary 12
|
By Emily Dickinson:
One Joy of so much anguish Sweet nature has for me – I shun it as I do Despair Or dear iniquity – Why Birds, a Summer morning Before the Quick of Day Should stab my ravished spirit With Dirks of Melody Is part of an inquiry That will receive reply When Flesh and Spirit sunder In Death's Immediately – |
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
One Joe of so much pleasure Sweet nature has for me – I taste it as I do Desire With dear serenity – I Drink, on Every morning Before the Quick of Day Revives my ravished spirit A Drink of Ecstasy It’s part of my daily routine That I receive my cup With Flesh and Spirit composed My Life’s Immediately – |
FeBREWary 11
|
By Emily Dickinson:
How much the present moment means To those who've nothing more – The Fop – the Carp – the Atheist – Stake an entire store Upon a Moment's shallow Rim While their commuted Feet The Torrents of Eternity Do all but inundate – |
|
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
How much the present moment means To those with morning Joe – The Mug –the Cup–the Coffee Pot – At the convenience store Fill the vessel to the Rim While their commuted Feet The Torrents of the Morning Rush Do all but inundate – |
FeBREWary 10:
|
By Emily Dickinson:
What is – "Paradise" – Who live there – Are they "Farmers" – Do they "hoe" – Do they know that this is "Amherst" – And that I – am coming – too – Do they wear "new shoes" – in "Eden" – Is it always pleasant – there – Won't they scold us – when we're homesick – Or tell God – how cross we are – You are sure there's such a person As "a Father" – in the sky – So if I get lost – there – ever – Or do what the Nurse calls "die" – I shan't walk the "Jasper" – barefoot – Ransomed folks – won't laugh at me – Maybe – "Eden" a'n't so lonesome As New England used to be! |
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
Where is – “Paradise” – Who lives there – Are they “Drinkers” – Have they “joe” – Do they know that I need “Coffee” – And that I – do love it – so – Do they brew “fresh pots” – in “Eden” – Is it always pleasant – hot – When it’s cold they – start a new pot – So that I – can drink a lot – I am sure there’s such a person As “Barista” – in the store – So if I get thirst – there – ever – Or feel like I have “died” – I can order “Coffee” – in hand – Pay the folks – and drink it down – Slowly – and with my “Coffee” head on As a New Man into town! |
|
FeBREWary 9:
|
By Emily Dickinson:
The joy that has no stem nor core, Nor seed that we can sow, Is edible to longing. But ablative to show. By fundamental palates Those products are preferred Impregnable to transit And patented by pod. |
|
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
The joe that has no steam nor core, Nor heat that we can sense Is drinkable if longed for But difficult to dispense By fundamental palates These products should be hot Though difficult to transport When heated in a pot. |
FeBREWary 8:
|
By Emily Dickinson:
A face devoid of love or grace, A hateful, hard, successful face, A face with which a stone Would feel as thoroughly at ease As were they old acquaintances – First time together thrown. |
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
A face devoid of love or grace, A morning, tired, stressful face, A face with which a stone Would feel as thoroughly at ease As were they old acquaintances – Is a face in need of Joe. |
FeBREWary 7:
|
By Emily Dickinson:
The distance that the dead have gone Does not at first appear; Their coming back seems possible For many an ardent year. And then, that we have followed them, We more than half suspect, So intimate have we become With their dear retrospect. |
|
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
The distance that the dead have gone When they commute to work; Their coffee black seems possible From many a mini-mart clerk. And then, when they have swallowed them, I more than half suspect, Stimulated they will become When their spirits resurrect. |
FeBREWary 6:
|
By Emily Dickinson: She slept beneath a tree – Remembered but by me. I touched her Cradle mute – She recognized the foot – Put on her Carmine suit And see! |
By Emmett Lee Dickinson: I slept beyond my dreams – Remembered but the screams – I touched my Coffee cup – When I was barely up – Put on her Caffeine suit And saw! |
|
FeBREWary 5:
|
By Emily Dickinson:
When Roses cease to bloom, Sir, And Violets are done – When Bumblebees in solemn flight Have passed beyond the Sun – The hand that paused to gather Upon this Summer's day Will idle lie – in Auburn – Then take my flowers – pray! |
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
When Java starts to brew, Sir, And Coffee is done – When I take off in solemn flight And pass beyond the Sun – The hand that paused to gather Upon this Work-Week’s day With eagerness – my Coffee – To give me powers – Yay! |
FeBREWary 4:
|
By Emily Dickinson:
Nature can do no more She has fulfilled her Dyes Whatever Flower fail to come Of other Summer days Her crescent reimburse If other Summers be Nature's imposing negative Nulls opportunity – |
|
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
Coffee can still do more She has fulfilled my Life Whatever Power is to come Throughout my Labored strife Her caffeine reimburses My other Labored hours Coffee’s imposing positive Brings opportunity – |
FeBREWary 3:
|
By Emily Dickinson:
There comes an hour when begging stops, When the long interceding lips Perceive their prayer is vain. "Thou shalt not" is a kinder sword Than from a disappointing God "Disciple, call again." |
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
There comes an hour when searching starts, When the long interceding lips Perceive their prayer’s not vain. “A fresh pot” is the wiser word Then poured into a to-go Cup “Thank you, come again.” |
|
FeBREWary 2:
|
By Emily Dickinson:
Satisfaction – is the Agent Of Satiety – Want – a quiet Commissary For Infinity. To possess, is past the instant We achieve the Joy – Immortality contented Were Anomaly. |
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
Percolation – is the Agent Of Sanity – Need – it quite Necessary For Infinity. To possess, is just the instant I achieve the Joe – Immortality blended with My Autonomy |
FeBREWary 1:
|
By Emily Dickinson:
Expectation – is Contentment – Gain – Satiety – But Satiety – Conviction Of Necessity Of an Austere trait in Pleasure – Good, without alarm Is a too established Fortune – Danger – deepens Sum – |
|
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
Percolation – is Contentment – Gain – Sanity – With Sanity – Conviction Of Necessity Of a Coffee treat of Pleasure – Good, when the alarm Is a too established Routine – Mornings – always Come – |
