Blog Archives

LEAP(ing) (yester)DAY

2/29/2024

Happy Leap Day, one and all!

Since it’s ‘Leap Day,” I checked to see if Dickinson ever mentioned Leap Year (or Leap Day) in any of her poems – and the answer is “no.”

She used the word “leap” in 18 different poems, and there is no poem where “leap” and “year” are used together or separately – nor is there a poem with “leap” and “day.”

The closest to that is the poem “Blazing in gold and quenching in purple,” which uses the words “leaping” and “day” – OR – the poem “Let Us play Yesterday,” which uses the words “leap” and “yesterDAY” (but not just plain old “day”). In both poems, the words are used lines apart.

To check out "Let Us play Yesterday," click HERE.

As far as I can tell, Dickinson did not mention “leap year” or “leap day” in any of her letters – but I did not complete an exhaustive search on this – so I can’t say I’m 100% sure on this. :-)

Interestingly, I did find a Dickinson Lexicon – sponsored by BYU (HERE) – and it includes an entry for “Leap Year” – but they don’t reference where this is from in Dickinson’s works/letters.

An Accident Waiting To Happen -- Part 1

2/28/2024

Last Wednesday evening I participated in the first of five monthly Zoom discussions about Dickinson’s poetry sponsored by the Emily Dickinson Museum. If you scroll back to my #DickinsonDaily post for 2/21 you’ll see the write-up about the session and the poems we discussed – and one poem was what is classified as a “letter poem” (i.e., a letter in the form of a poem) written to her sister-in-law Susan.

This letter is included in the book “Open Me Carefully: Emily Dickinson’s Intimate Letters to Susan Huntington Dickinson,” edited by Ellen Louise Hart and Martha Nell Smith.

The letter-poem in Dickinson's handwriting can be viewed by clicking HERE.

Interestingly, the second half of the letter is published alone as a stand-alone poem in Franklin’s edition of Dickinson’s “Complete Poems” (it’s not in the Johnson edition at all) – I’m not sure why the entire poem wasn’t published as a singular poem.

Most of the discussion last Wednesday centered on Dickinson’s representation of time vs. temporality (one’s sense of passing time). For example, time almost stands still (“This is the hour of lead”) in “After great pain, a formal feeling comes; however, in “Consulting Summer’s clock,” time flies (“The second half of joy / Is shorter than the first”).

We discussed the sensation of time in this particular letter-poem, and one interesting take was on the opening lines of the poem: “Morning might come by Accident - Sister - Night comes by Event - “ and that was followed by a discussion of the next image: “To believe the final line of the Card would foreclose Faith - Faith is Doubt.”

What do you make of that opening statement: “Morning might come by Accident” and “Night comes by Event”?

What comes to mind concerning “the Card” (i.e., what type of card?) – where “the final line” would foreclose Faith?

More on this tomorrow.

PART 2 is HERE.

If The Shoe Fits...

2/24/2024

The saying is true: -- "A fool and his money are soon parted" -- and it was proven once again this past week when MAGA-Morons shelled out 399.00 for Trump-brand sneakers -- although no one actually got a pair of sneakers. Instead they paid 399.00 for the promise of some sneakers -- and they're supposed to be shipped (from China?) next August?

Below: The "Ultra MAGA" Trump shoes -- a design exclusively pirated by Ivanka.

Below: On Threads, I saw that @georgehahn posted this pic of the new Trump-brand adult diaper being produced by Mike Lindell

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

How happy is the little Fool
That rambles in his shoes of Gold,
And doesn't care about the Truth
And champions a man uncouth –
Whose Cult of ornamental Orange
A plotting Q-niverse put on,
And unrepentant for his Sins
Associates with lies and spins,
Fulfilling absolute Decree
Of radical toxicity –

By Emily Dickinson:

How happy is the little Stone
That rambles in the Road alone,
And doesn't care about Careers
And Exigencies never fears –
Whose Coat of elemental Brown
A passing Universe put on,
And independent as the Sun
Associates or glows alone,
Fulfilling absolute Decree
In casual simplicity –

Like my work? Shoot me a buck or two for a cup of coffee! Venmo me: @JamesAsher
(This stuff doesn't write itself, LOL!)

In honor of the complete idiots who ordered their promise of a pair, I have posted Emmett Lee Dickinson's now-classic poem "How happy is the little Fool" below on the left. Dickinson's poem inspired third-cousin Emily to pen her poem "How happy is the little Stone," below on the right.

Two by Two

2/20/2024

The two pics below were taken about two-and-a-half weeks apart – but both were taken at about the same spot on my daily run and at about the same time (near sunset for each day) – and due to the movement of the sun in the sky, I decided to post the two poems as well -- with the first being about the "pattern of the sun."

I LOVE the second poem – so much so that I recently wrote a song based on it. I love the image of the sunset as a daily “Fire,” and that it is “Discovered without surprise” – and that it “Proceeds without concern.” I also

French Twist

2/19/2024

LOL – it seems that I need to rethink something!

A few days ago, I started a discussion about the idea of “deliberateness” on the part of creative artists (HERE). I posted a poem by E. E. Cummings, “l(a,” and questioned whether or not every aspect of the poem was deliberate.

In particular, I asked if the first two lines of the poem – which spell “la” and “le,” two singular articles in French – could have been deliberate on the part of Cummings.

Imma be honest, I’ve never thought so. I just thought that was coincidental.

The next day I posted a second E. E. Cummings' poem, “old age sticks.” I did this because Cummings split the poem’s final words “growing old” in such a way that the poem ends with the youthful generation “OWING old” – and then my discussion turned to Dickinson’s “work as an innovator in the field of rhyme” which “permanently altered the ears of poets and readers.”

And then @nblumengarten responded on CoSo with this: “Going from the previous poem (i.e., “l(a”), "tres" and "pas” (from “old age sticks): Tres meaning, "very" and pas, meaning "the right of precedence."

To which I gasped and had an “aha moment.”

I responded, “Cummings did live in Paris for a short time! I always tended to think the le/la in “l(a” was coincidental. I think I need to rethink that!”

I’d also seen the “tres” and “pas” beaucoup times and (a) I’ve always wondered why not “tress” and “PASS” and (b) I never once thought, “there must be a secondary meaning with French words.”

Obviously by using “tres” and “pas,” Cummings was deliberate. The words are meant to suggest “trespass” AND to provide additional meaning in French.

Sooo…now I’m a believer: “la” and “le” were equally deliberate!

There are no coincidences.

NOTE: I posted all of this on CounterSocial -- the social media platform I joined after I deleted my Twitter account (due to the takeover by Melon Husk & the proliferation of hate speech and misinformation) -- and following all of this, there was some debate as to what "pas" meant in French.

One person said, "I've never seen "pas" translated as "the right of precedence." However, another showed a dictionary entry for the word with "1: the right of precedence; 2: a dance step or combination of steps." Even so, the debate continued.

At one point, I added, "Well, I don’t speak French, so I don’t know the nuances of the language, but even if "pas" just stands for “not,” it fits the poem. Plus I always wondered why Cummings put “tres” and “pas” vs. “pass” — and French makes so much sense!"

Finally, I added, "I listen to classical music, & in the car tonight on the way home, I heard just the end of what the announcer said was a 'Pas de Deux' from some work by Igor Stravinsky -- and it hit me: the idea of "pas" as "dance" in the Cummings' poem "old age sticks" -- as EVERY generation of parents & older folks rebuff the new generation's dance moves. I love it! LOL -- I NEVER thought of the 'French connection' for this poem -- but it makes so much sense!"

Oo la la, say "la vie," and excuse my French -- as they say! ; )

Deliberate Intent -- Part 1

2/16/2024

I’ve been busy, busy, busy – so I’ve been making slow progress in reading Judy Jo Small’s book “Positive as Sound: Emily Dickinson’s Rhyme.”

Sooo…over time I’ll post info from the book and discuss various points, and today I’ll start with a compelling point made early in the book – in its introduction – and then turn to a poem by E. E. Cummings. Then tomorrow, I’ll have some discussion on another poem by Cummings – and soon thereafter I’ll return to Dickinson (and maybe even some lyrics by Dua Lipa?).

In “Positive as Sound,” Small wrote “...we may conclude that Dickinson had a strong, relatively unwavering sense of how she wanted her poems to sound and that she pursued that end deliberately.” Two pages later, she said, “that Dickinson’s rhymes are not the result of casual neglect.”

And it is that sense of “deliberateness” of poets – and painters, song-writers, sculptors, choreographers, photographers, etc. – and the fact that their work is not at all “the result of casual neglect” – that I’d like to examine this morning.

In poetry, every word, every syllable, every rhyme and every rhythm is pondered, planned, and purposeful – in short, everything is deliberate.

I definitely believe that is true – certainly close to 99% of the time. LOL.

Let’s take a look at E. E. Cummings’ “l(a" (shown at the right). In this poem, Cummings symbolizes loneliness as falling leaf – AND – he emphasized the concept of loneliness very deliberately in the way he dismantled, sliced, and rearranged the words.

In the first line, he used a lowercase “L,” which looks like the number one, and it’s separated parenthetically (to emphasize isolation) from the letter “a,” a single article in English. In line 7, the word “one” appears, and in line 8, there is another lowercase “L” that looks like a number one.

The structure of the poem – which represents a leaf falling to the ground – also depicts the structure of a number one – AND – the result at the bottom, “iness” (which I pronounce as “eye-ness,” i.e., the state of being “I”) – is the state of being one’s self.

All of this arrangement was purposeful and deliberate. Everything about the poem symbolizes and emphasizes loneliness.

I have even heard it suggested that in the first two lines of the poem, Cummings used the French singular articles “la” and “le” to underscore the idea of loneliness even further.

What do you think? Cummings was VERY deliberate in his arrangement. He was extremely deliberate. There was no “casual neglect.”

So did Cummings purposely hew this poem to include the French singular articles? Was he, in fact, that deliberate?

Deliberate Intent -- Part 2

Yesterday I began a discussion about “deliberateness” – the purposeful intent of an artist when creating a work – and in particular, a poet creating a poem.

This idea grew from statements in Judy Jo Small’s book “Positive as Sound: Emily Dickinson’s Rhyme”: “...we may conclude that Dickinson had a strong, relatively unwavering sense of how she wanted her poems to sound and that she pursued that end deliberately”; and two pages later, she said, “that Dickinson’s rhymes are not the result of casual neglect.”

Before getting to a work by Dickinson, I posted a short – but very deliberately written – poem by E.. E. Cummings – and I did ask if a couple of details in the poem were, indeed, deliberate – or coincidental? (Refer to Part 1 of this post above.)

Before getting to a discussion of Dickinson’s (and others’) deliberateness, I’d like to offer one other poem by Cummings, “old age sticks.”

This poem is obviously about generational differences/gap, and Cummings included some very creative details in emphasizing his point. For one, note that the language and images of the older generation are confined within parentheses – and the images of youth are outside those boundaries. Even the first line has a bit of a double meaning: not only does the older generation stick up signs of keep off, mustn’t and don’t – but older folks also often walk with “old age sticks” (i.e., canes).

Of course, at the end of the poem, stark reality hits: the youth go right on growing old.

When I teach this poem, I tell students that I believe there are two VERY important words related to the overall message of this poem.

Hmm...what two words could they be?

I’ll divulge them tomorrow when I continue discussing the idea of "deliberateness" with writers, artists, musicians, etc.
In the meantime – any guesses as to the two words I’m talking about?

Deliberate Intent -- Part 3

A couple of days ago, I started a discussion about the idea of “deliberateness” on the part of creative artists. I posted a poem by E. E. Cummings, “l(a,” and questioned whether or not every aspect of the poem was deliberate.

Yesterday, I posted a second E. E. Cummings' poem, “old age sticks,” and I mentioned that there were two words in the poem in particular that I felt were extremely important – and those two words actually come from the dissection of the poem’s final words “growing old”: Youth “goes right on growing old”; however, in the way Cummings split the words, youth also goes on “OWING old.”

Although the poem seems to focus on gaps and differences between generations, the ending subtly but masterfully recognizes that the newer, younger generation actually “owes” the previous generation for yanking down barriers, breaking glass ceilings, and stretching the boundaries they faced.

Of course, all of this discussion started when I quoted Judy Jo Small from her book “Positive as Sound: Emily Dickinson’s Rhyme”: “...we may conclude that Dickinson had a strong, relatively unwavering sense of how she wanted her poems to sound and that she pursued that end deliberately.”

Later in her introduction, Small said this: “Her work as an innovator in the field of rhyme, furthermore, has permanently altered the ears of poets and readers.”

She then quotes two lines from a poem by Frost (shown at the right):

Never again would birds' song be the same.
And to do that to birds was why she came.

Over time, Dickinson’s work increasingly became viewed by scholars and the public as “innovative rather than flawed.” As a result, all of the generations of poets after Dickinson “owe” her (to use Cummings’ verb) for stretching the boundaries of what was thought to be formal poetry.

More on this tomorrow.

Valentine Week

2/14/2024

Happy Valentine’s Day – a day connected to some of the earliest publications of Emily Dickinson’s work.

Ten of Dickinson’s poems and one letter were published during the poet’s lifetime – and all were published anonymously.

The first work of Dickinson’s to be published was a letter she wrote to friend George Gould, who printed it in the Amherst College “Indicator” in 1850. This letter begins “Magnum bonum, harem scarum,” and you can read the complete letter by clicking HERE.

You can also read the letter in the 1850 edition of the "Indicator" (pictured at the right) by clicking HERE.

Notes on this letter from editor Thomas Johnson (who published the 1955 edition of Dickinson's "Complete Poems") are HERE.

A poem written in 1850 with the opening line “Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine” actually uses the word “Valentine” – the only poem of Dickinson’s with that word. “Valentine” appears at the end of the second line, but you can also see “Valentine Week” written in Dickinson’s handwriting on the top right of her page (see below).

The first published poem of Dickinson’s was “‘Sic transit gloria mundi.’” It was published in Springfield Daily Republican in February of 1852, and it was given the title, “A Valentine.”

This poem was written and sent to a friend by the name of William Howland who is most likely the person who submitted it to the paper for publication.

To access an article about that poem and its publication, click HERE.

For a complete list of the poems published in Dickinson’s lifetime, click HERE.

iPoems

2/12/2024

When one types notes into one's iPhone, one's phone ties to anticipate what one is going to say, and so it displays suggested words to pick from.

Well, I thought I'd try it out a la Emily Dickinson by typing in the initial words from the opening lines from some of her most famous poems.

1. BECAUSE I COULD NOT....

When I typed in the first few words for "Because I could not stop for Death," the phone tried to get me down a completely different path with "Because I could not FIND" (hmm...maybe for something like "Because I could not find my keys"?). I went ahead and typed in "stop" and ended up with what I'm sure would have been a classic poem for Dickinson: "Because I could not stop for lunch!"

2. "HOPE"

With "'Hope' is the thing with Feathers," I tried starting with "'Hope' is the thing..." and first up, "Hope" ended up being the thing with "me."

LOL -- but then I went with "the," and "Hope" became the thing with "people."

Well -- if you're a people person -- then I s'pose you might agree with that! ; )

3. AFTER GREAT PAIN...

Dickinson wrote, "After great pain, a formal feeling comes," but what would my iPhone say? I typed in "After great pain, a..." and at first I chose "little" -- then came "more" -- and LOL, it ended up saying "After great pain a little more pain!"

I s'pose all you pessimists out there will agree with this! ; )

4. THERE IS NO FRIGATE LIKE...

Of course, Dickinson said, "There is no Frigate like a Book." My iPhone, on the other hand, said, "There is no Frigate like a...big...old...ship."

Well, I s'pose my iPhone wasn't wrong! LOL. ; )

It's All Greek To Me

2/12/2024

I can’t remember how & why I looked this up – I think I was looking up the etymology for some word that intrigued me, though I don’t remember what the word was – anyway, I ended up searching for the etymologies of the words “poem” and “poetry” and I was a bit surprised — and perplexed.

Google’s info from Oxford Languages reported that…

“Poem” came from the “Greek poēma, early variant of poiēma ‘fiction, poem’, from poiein ‘create’.” (“Everything comes from the Greek, #amirite – LOL!)

“Poetry” came from “medieval Latin poetria, from Latin poeta ‘poet’.”

Really? “Poem” derived from “the Greek” and “poetry” came from Latin?

Well, Google also included a list of “People also ask” questions, and the first one said, “Where did the word poetry come from?” – so I clicked on that:

So this bit of info stated that “poetry” also came from Greek, not Latin — but one side note: I found it a bit odd in that the definition focused on the aesthetic properties of speech sound in poetry and mentioned nothing at all about figurative language and other elements of poetry.

And then – are you ready for this???? — since I got conflicting info on “poetry” (stating that the word came from both Greek and Latin), I went back to “poem” to see if info related to its etymology would be just as confusing. I clicked on Google’s question, “What is the word poem derived from?” and I got this:

LOL — how did that slip in there?

Anyway, if any logophiles* have any additional info on the etymologies of “poem” and “poetry,” lemme know.

*LOL! When I typed in “logophiles,” autocorrect changed it to “loopholes” — so I might just start calling word lovers “loopholes.” 🤣

And did Dickinson ever use the words “poem” and/or “poetry” in any of her works?

I’ll have that answer tomorrow!

Its' All Greek To Me -- Part 2

Yesterday I posted info related to the etymologies of the words “poem” and “poetry.” At the end of the post I posed the question, “Did Dickinson ever use the words ‘poem’ and/or ‘poetry’ in any of her works?” – and the answer is yes.

Dickinson used the word “poem” in two different poems, “Her – ‘last poems’” and “To see the Summer sky.”

The word “poetry” appears in four poems: “Yesterday is history,” “To pile like Thunder to its close,” “There is no frigate like a book,” and “To see the Summer sky.”

Of course, of all of these first lines, the most famous is “There is no frigate like a book,” below on the left.

In the case of “To see the Summer sky,” this is the only poem where Dickinson used both the word “poetry” and “poem” in the same work. See below on the right.

All Stars -- Part 1

2/10/2024

In recent days I wrote about Dickinson’s reference to the constellation Orion, and I wondered what other heavenly bodies she might have included in her poetry.

I knew that she had written about Arcturus in “‘Arcturus is his other name,”

“Arcturus” is the brightest star in the northern constellation of Boötes. it is the fourth-brightest star in the night sky, and the brightest in the northern celestial hemisphere.

I found one blogger’s analysis of the poem, and early on in his comments he said, “The poem can be divided up into two halves. The first half is, I believe, not only examples of things that are harmed when we classify them, but she is also referring to herself with each example.”

The complete post is HERE.

I then checked other names of well-known stars (Antares, Rigel, Sirius, etc.) to see if they’d ever been mentioned by Dickinson – and no, none of them popped up.

She did use “mercury” once, but not as the name of the planet, and of the other planets’ names, she did use “Mars” once and “Jupiter” once.

“Mars” appeared in “‘Sic transit gloria mundi’," HERE.

“Jupiter” was mentioned in “‘Lethe’ in my flower” – shown at the right.

I’ll check for “Earth,” “Sun,” and “Moon” soon – I figured those three would keep me busy!

All Stars -- Part 2

I’ve been writing about stars and celestial bodies in the poems of Emily Dickinson. Earlier I wrote about Orion, and yesterday I posted info related to stars and planets – and I have one update: It turns out that “pleiades” (or “pleiade”) shows up in three poems, “How noteless Men, and Pleiades, stand,” “Whose cheek is this?” and “I had a guinea golden.”

Yesterday, I also noted that today I would report on the earth, sun, and moon – and the results are in:

“Earth” appears in 58 poems, the “sun” shows up in 164 poems, and the “moon” turns up in 23 poems (and “luna” appears once, in “Sic transit gloria mundi”)

Other celestial bodies in Dickinson’s poetry:

“Mars” and “Jupiter” appear in one poem each; “Planet” shows up in two poems; “Asteroid,” Galaxies,” “Constellation,” and “Arcturus” also each show up in one poem.

Of all the poems about these astronomical objects, two of my favorites are “The Sun just touched the Morning” and “The moon was but a chin of gold,” both pictured below.