The Poetry Hall of Fame

Throughout the month of April, the Emmett Lee Dickinson Museum (located above the coin-op Laundromat on Dickinson Boulevard in Washerst, PA) will feature a very special exhibit on the Poetry Hall of Fame.

The Poetry Hall of Fame, also located in the heart of historic Washerst, includes an entire wing dedicated to Emmett Lee Dickinson (Emily Dickinson's third cousin, twice removed -- at her request). However, it also has exhibits to Hall of Famers Wink Whitman (Walt Whitman's brother), Bytha Pound (Ezra's brother), Jack Kilmer (Joyce's sister), and many more world-famous poets.

Be sure to check back throughout the month for more on this very special exhibit!

April 1: The Poetry Hall of Fame

The Poetry Hall of Fame is the fifth most popular tourist attraction in Washerst just after the Emmett Lee Dickinson Museum (above the coin-op Laundromat on Dickinson Boulevard), DickinsonLand (info HERE), the Celebrity Look-Alike Wax Museum and Hall of Fame, and the Washerst Mattress Dump (the fifth largest mattress dump in the United States -- behind those in Memphis, Tennessee; Chattanooga, Tennessee; Knoxville, Tennessee; and Ithaca, New York).

Pictured at the right: The Poetry Hall of Fame. Click the image to enlarge.

Of course, the top attraction at the Poetry Hall of Fame is the Emmett Lee Dickinson wing on the main floor. Other attractions are the Dickinson IMAX Theater (featuring the 3D virtual sensurround ride "Because I Could Not Stop for Death"), the restaurant featuring corn chowder (invented by Emmett Lee Dickinson) and Cajun nachos (invented by Emily Dickinson), and the 14-ton Remington "Typo-Writer" (pictured below on the right).

Pictured above: The only known likeness of Emmett Lee Dickinson (Emily Dickinson's third cousin, twice removed -- at her request).

April 2: Wink Whitman

Walt Whitman always said that it was his brother Wink who inspired him to become a poet -- and Wink Whitman said that it was Emmett Lee Dickinson (Emily Dickinson's third cousin, twice removed -- at her request) who inspired him.

Published in 1853, Wink Whitman's collection of poetry Mows the Grass is widely recognized as a seminal work in American poetry. Its genesis is from a poem by Emmett Lee Dickinson which begins, "If all the grass I am to cut / Would only grow today."

Pictured at the left: Wink Whitman

Pictured at the right: A first edition of Wink Whitman's Mows the Grass -- which inspired his brother Walt Whitman to write Leaves of Grass.

**From Mows the Grass by Wink Whitman**

I read America tweeting, the varied missives I read,
Those of theorists, each one tweeting his as it should be vain and strong,
The intellect tweeting his as he measures his grasp or airs,
The worker tweeting hers as she makes ready for work, or leaves off work,
The comic tweeting what amuses him in his mind, the follower retweeting on his tweetdeck,
The observer tweeting as she sits on his bench, the hater tweeting where he stands,
The authority’s tweet, the pundit's on his blog in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundown,
The continuous tweeting of the critic, or of the newbie at work, or of the girl so-ing or wishing,
Each tweeting what belongs to him or her and to none else,
The day what belongs to the day—at night the chat of followers, robust, frantic,
Tweeting with hashtags their strong sanctimonious tweets.

Pictured at the left: Walt Whitman leaves Camden, NJ, on a journey of self-discovery. Whitman said that his brother Wink's book Mows the Grass affected him so much that he had to "walk the rails to re-examine all that I had been told and to dismiss that which insulted my soul." The end result of his journey was Leaves of Grass. He credited his brother's work for allowing him to create his own.

April 3: Jack Frost

Like Walt Whitman, Robert Frost credits his brother Jack for inspiring his poetry. Unlike the punctilious and proper Robert, though, Jack Frost was more free-thinking and independent. The founder of what has become the modern-day "hipster" movement, Jack Frost has also had a lasting influence on hip hop, gangsta rap, and performance poetry.

Fire and Ice
By Jack Frost

She like hot sauce cuz she go with everthang
But she got the a/c on full blast and I’m effin cold.
Now I’m not a playa but I crush a lot
And generally attracted to the ones keep it hot all day
Tho what woman’s as hot as she think herself?
It’s the ones not all n2 themselves that
End up far better than expected.
Holla! Either way, she gone be dangerous.
Wanna bet?

Below: Jack Frost's poem "Fire and Ice" inspired his brother Robert to pen a poem with the same name:

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice

Pictured above:
Jack Frost, urban poet and
founder of the modern-day hipster movement.

Pictured below: Two rooms from Jack Frost's apartment. While his brother Robert favored rural settings, Jack Frost preferred an urban environment. Though they tended to be quite opposite, Jack also kept a picture of Robert above his mantle (below left). Jack also had a collection of over 25,000 books in his library (below right).

April 4: Sangsom Blues

Sangsom Blues was one of the most influential voices in the period that has become known as the Harlem Middle Ages, the years just before the Harlem Renaissance. He often recited his poetry at the Harlem landmark, the Linen Club, He was also the poet whom Langston Hughes credits for inspiring his work.

One of Sangsom Blues' most famous poems is "A Scream Unheard":

A Scream Unheard

What happens to a scream unheard?

Does it fly up
like it’s racing to the sun?
Or pester like a chore –
That’s undone?
Does it shrink like shriveled feet?
Or thrust and stumble over –
like a half-drunken Swede?

Maybe it just lags
like a heavy toad.

Or does it implode?

Sangsom Blues' poem inspired Langston Hughes to pen this poem:

A Dream Deferred

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore –
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over –
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

Below left: Another classic poem by Sangsom Blues. Below right: A poem by Langston Hughes which derived from Sangsom Blues' poem.

Oh Joan Rivers,
Oh Joan Rivers: ancient as the world and older than the
Flow of human blood in human veins.

Grown old is the humor of Joan Rivers.

She got her start on Carson when dawns were young.
She served a stint as the Guest Host – and lulled me to sleep.
She moved across the dial to start a brand new late night talk show
I heard her interviewing luminaries with Melissa
on the carpet at the Oscars, and I’ve seen her lifted
bosom tanned all golden in the sunset.

Oh Joan Rivers:
Ancient, dusky Rivers.

Grown old is the humor of Joan Rivers.

I've known rivers:
I've known rivers ancient as the world and older than the
flow of human blood in human veins.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
went down to New Orleans, and I've seen its muddy
bosom turn all golden in the sunset.

I've known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

April 5: Uhmilli Dikeanssöhn

Uhmilli Dikeanssöhn, Sweden's preeminent poet, was a distant relative of Emmett Lee Dickinson and Emily Dickinson. She was the great-great-great-great-great-great granddaughter of Edvin Gunnbjörg Dikeanssöhn, a whittler and palingwright (a maker of wooden fencing). A contemporary branch of the Dikeanssöhn family owns and operates IKEA, the home furnishings company that designs and sells ready-to-assemble furniture (originally out of fencing slats).

For more information on Uhmilli Dikeanssöhn, her poetry, and her connections to the Dickinsons and IKEA, click HERE.

Pictured at the right: Sweden's preeminent poet Uhmilli Dikeanssöhn,

Since Uhmilli Dikeanssöhn's family owned and operated IKEA furniture marts, many of her poems deal with furniture and furniture making:

Hüugen mâcht der Bĕdt
Mâcht dis Bĕdt mit Sižen
Så dat stäandort Schɇet
Øblijas ökstra Bižen

Var sin Mådrass røckt
Var sin Kůdde sâaft
Låt nøn Fretsom schtäpt der sâal
Höocâreslest üf der Kâhst.

The classic poem by Uhmilli Dikeanssöhn , about the beds sold at IKEA furniture marts translates as follows:

Ample make this Bed
Make this Bed with Size
So the standard Sheet
Obliges extra Buys

Be its Mattress hard
Be its Pillow soft
Let no Worry stop the sale
Regardless of its Cost

Uhmilli Dikeanssöhn was a great inspiration to Emily Dickinson. Her poem at the left inspired Dickinson's poem below:

Ample make this Bed
Make this Bed with Awe
In it wait till Judgement day
Excellent and Fair

Be its Mattress straight
Be its Pillow round
Let no Sunrise yellow noise
Interrupt this Ground

Pictured above: Hujik Dikeanssöhn. For more information on Hujik Dikeanssöhn and the Swedish tradition of the Pøesie Shmâcka, click HERE.

April 6: Hujik Dikeanssöhn

Another Swede in the Poetry Hall of Fame is Uhmilli Dikeanssöhn's son Hujik Dikeanssöhn. He is the one who started the Swedish tradition of the "Pøesie Shmâcka," which translates into English as "Poetry Slam." Around the world, Hujik Dikeanssöhn is known as the Father of the Poetry Slam.

Pictured below: ListVerse listed the Pøesie Shmâcka as the fifth most awesome thing about Sweden.

The Swedish Pøesie Shmâcka:

Rules and regulations for Poetry Slams in Sweden are set and monitored by the Swedish National Pøesie Shmâcka Appraisal Board.

Pictured at the left: The founding members of the Swedish National Pøesie Shmâcka Appraisal Board.

Front row left to right: Arvid Bengtsdotter, Bertil Kjellssohn, Embla Blixt, Gosta Kroon, Dagmar Ostberggorniedorffssohn, and Gunda Kjar

Back row left to right: Hedvig Skog, Kettil Fisch, Orjan Ferm, Petron Hjort , Torvald von Oggla, and Aslog Ek

Not pictured: Ingegard Sandviksegerstrom

Pictured at the right: Past winners of the Swedish National Pøesie Shmâcka:

"OnomatoPeople" is the group credited with introducing beat-boxing to the world.

"Where'Dya Meter" won with a daring and innovative work of over 20,000 haikus that retold the story of The Gulag Archipelago by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn.

April 7: Bytha Pound

Ezra Pound made it known emphatically that were it not for his brother Bytha Pound, he would have not tried his hand at poetry.

Bytha Pound's critically acclaimed tome The Can'ts led Ezra Pound to write his 120-section, incomplete poem The Cantos. Their mother, Haffa Pound, claimed that sibling rivalry is what really led the brothers to write their the two lengthy poems.

"No matter the subject," she reported, "each would make wild claims about their skills and abilities, and then the arguing would start. 'No you can't.' 'Can too.' 'Cannot.' 'Can too.' I swear," Haffa Pound claimed, "their constant argument is even apparent in the name of their poems."

Pictured above:

Bytha Pound, brother and rival to Ezra Pound.

The pictures at the right and below tell the story of the rivalry between Ezra and Bytha Pound:

1. In Canto LXII, Ezra Pound wrote of John Adams.

2. Not to be outdone, Bytha Pound wrote about cartoonist Charles Addams in Can't LXIII.

3. Ezra followed with Canto LXIV focusing on Edie Adams.

4. Then, in Can't LXV, Bytha wrote about singer Edie Gorme.

5. Trying to top that, Ezra focused on Graham Kerr, the Galloping Gourmet, in Canto LXVI.

6. After that, Bytha Pound, in Can't LXVII, wrote about Secretariat. Not to be topped by his brother, Ezra Pound rode Secretariat in all three races to win the Triple Crown.

Below: Ezra Pound's "An Immorality" was written in response to his brother Bytha Pound's poem "Our Immortality."

An Immorality
By Ezra Pound

Sing we for love and idleness,
Naught else is worth the having.

Though I have been in many a land,
There is naught else in living.

And I would rather have my sweet,
Though rose-leaves die of grieving,

Than do high deeds in Hungary
To pass all men's believing.

Our Immortality
By Bytha Pound

Tweet we of love in idleness,
Naught else is worth the tweeting.

Though I have other social media accounts
There is naught else worth repeating.

And I would rather have my tweet.
Than Match.com for meeting,

Than post high deeds on LinkedIn
And doubt my friends are reading.

April 8: Daisy Delphi "D. D." Goings

Daisy Delphi "D. D." Goings (pictured at the left) was one of the first to see the creative capabilities of the typewriter, and her works inspired E. E. Cummings to experiment with form and the arrangement of his poetry.

In the late 1800s, D. D. Goings opened her School for Typing and Amanuensis Services in Washerst, PA.

By D. D. Goings:

the darkside is fine)but Darth

?o
bi wan kanob
i

wouldn’t like

Darth if Darth
were
decent:for

then(instead of slaughtering the Clones)you

begin to feel the force
’s phenomenal
why?be

cause the darkside is

entirely natural;entirely
putting
it predictably deadly(but

Darth

is severely
volatile
& explosive &

evil & cruel)

we thank the
force
ubiquitous for the darkside

(forgive us,o Luke!the son of Darth

By E. E. Cummings:

dying is fine)but Death

?o
baby
i

wouldn't like

Death if Death
were
good:for

when(instead of stopping to think)you

begin to feel of it,dying
's miraculous
why?be

cause dying is

perfectly natural;perfectly
putting
it mildly lively(but

Death

is strictly
scientific
& artificial &

evil & legal)

we thank thee
god
almighty for dying

(forgive us,o life!the sin of Death

April 9: X. L. Eliot

T. S. Eliot became a poet, he said, due to the influence of his second cousin X. L. Eliot (pictured at the right).

X. L. Eliot was a leading poet in the Food Poetry Movement at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries.

One of X. L. Eliot's groundbreaking works, "The WaistBand," contains one of poetry's most famous lines:

Pizza is the cruelest food, needing
Sausage paired with melted cheese, mixing
Mozzarella and Parm, adding
Onions with peppers.

"The WaistBand" inspired T. S. Eliot to write "The Wasteland," which borrowed prodigiously from "The WaistBand." T. S. Eliot's work opens as follows:

April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs from the dead land mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.

Another of X. L. Eliot's seminal works is "The Last Meal of G. Abbot Roofstone" which inspired T. S. Eliot's "The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock."

The Last Meal of G. Abbot Roofstone

Let us go then, you and I,
Where the buffet is spread out about the room
Like an art gallery framed upon a table;
Let us start, with certain rich dessert-like sweets,
With countless repeats
Of refill visits to restocked chafing dishes
And amass heaps of iced shrimp and oyster-shells;
Steaks will follow like a glorious complement
Of whatever will come next
And lead us to an overwhelming question….
Oh, dare we ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock

Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question….
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

April 10: Shel Goldstein

Shel Goldstein was an American poet, singer-songwriter, cartoonist, screenwriter, and author of children's books. He is also the person who most influenced poet Shelbert Allan Silver who -- to honor Goldstien -- changed his name to Shel Silverstein.

Goldstein is known as the Father of Internet Poetry, as many of his poems focus on the theme of surfing the Internet.

Pictured below: Two of Goldstein's most popular books are Where The Firewall Ends and The Giving PC.

Below: The poem at the right, "There is a place where the firewall ends," is the title poem of Shel Goldstein's book Where the Firewall Ends. The poem inspired Shel Silverstein to write "Where the Sidewalk Ends" (on the left).

By Shel Silverstein:

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
and before the street begins,
and there the grass grows soft and white,
and there the sun burns crimson bright,
and there the moon-bird rests from his flight
to cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
and the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
we shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow
and watch where the chalk-white arrows go
to the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
and we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
for the children, they mark, and the children, they know,
the place where the sidewalk ends.

By Shel Goldstein:

There is a place where the firewall ends
and before the spam begins,
and there the screen glows soft and white,
and there the hard-drive’s multi-mega-byte
and there the wi-fi connects alright
to the cool of the cyber-space cloud

Let us leave this place where reality
and the family room transect
Past the rooms where my mundane family sits
I shall click with a click that’s deliberate
and watch where the blinking cursor sits
in a place where the firewall ends.

Yes I’ll click with a click that is delibarte
and I’ll go where the blinking cursor sits
for the websites it marks, yes the websites it picks –
the place where the firewall ends.

Below: Shel Goldstein's poem about Timmy Tett (on the left) inspired Shel Silverstein to write a simiar poem about a boy named Jimmy Jet (on the right).

I’ll tell you the story of Timmy Tett
And you know what I tell you is true.
He loved to surf the Internet
Almost as much as you.

He surfed all day, he surfed all night
Till he grew pale and lean,
From his Twitter feed to the YouTube hits
And all the sites between

He watched till his eyes were frozen wide
And his finger nails looked like keys
And his thumb turned into a thumb drive
And speakers grew from his knees.

And his brains turned into a hard drive,
And his face to a computer screen
And keys saying “CTRL” and “ALT”
Grew where his eyes had been.

And he grew a power cord that looked like a tail
So we plugged in little Tim
And now instead of using our laptop
We sit around and use him.

I'll tell you the story of Jimmy Jet --
And you know what I tell you is true.
He loved to watch his TV set
Almost as much as you.

He watched all day, he watched all night
Till he grew pale and lean,
From "The Early Show" to "The Late Late Show"
And all the shows between.

He watched till his eyes were frozen wide,
And his bottom grew into his chair.
And his chin turned into a tuning dial,
And antennae grew out of his hair.

And his brains turned into TV tubes,
And his face to a TV screen.
And two knobs saying "VERT." and "HORIZ."
Grew where his ears had been.

And he grew a plug that looked like a tail
So we plugged in little Jim.
And now instead of him watching TV
We all sit around and watch him.

April 11: Jack Kilmer

One of the most powerful voices in the area of fashion poetry is Jack Kilmer, the sister to Joyce Kilmer. With the publication of "Shoe Trees" in the magazine Poetry in August 1911, Jack Kilmer gained immense popularity as a poet across the United States -- and her success inspired her brother Joyce to become a poet.

Pictured at the right: Shoe Trees & Other Poems by Jack Kilmer.

Pictured at the far right: Jack Kilmer, Joyce Kilmer's sister.

Pictured below: Jack Kilmer's poem "Shoe Trees" (on the right) rocketed her to fame, and it inspired Joyce Kilmer to write "Trees" (on the left).

By Joyce Kilmer:

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

By Jack Kilmer:

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a shoe tree.

A shoe tree whose ample width is prest
Against the shoes’ soft leather instep;

A shoe tree that keeps its shape all day,
And plants its knobby heel to stay;

A shoe tree that prevents unnecessary wear
On any shoe, on any pair;

Into the footprint the shoe tree slides
And saves the soles the structure guides

Poems are made by fools like me,
But none as lovely as a shoe tree.

April 12: Wilhelmina Blake

Wilhelmina Blake, another prominent voice in the Food Poetry Movement, was the Great Aunt -- and the greatest inspiration -- to poet William Blake. Largely unrecognised during her lifetime, Blake is now considered a seminal figure in the history of the poetry and visual arts of the Food Poetry Movement.

Songs of Sustenance and of Abstinence is an illustrated collection of poems by the poet herself. It appeared in two phases. A few first copies were printed and illuminated by Wilhelmina Blake herself in 1787; three years later she bound these poems with a set of new poems of feasting and dieting.

Pictured at the left: Wilhelmina Blake

Pictured at the right: A early edition of Blake's Songs of Sustenance and of Abstinence

Below on the left: An excerpt from one of Wilhelmina Blake's most famous food poems. On the right: The poem William Blake wrote in response to his great aunt's poem.

Little lamb, Who baked thee?
Dost thou know who baked thee?
Gave me knife and bid me feed
With the glaze o’er your meat?
Gave the drippings of delight
Moistest mutton with each bite;
Gave me such a tender slice,
Served with savory wild rice?
Little lamb, Who baked thee?
Dost thou know who baked thee?

Little lamb, Who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee,
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed
By the stream and o’er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing woolly bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
    Little lamb, Who made thee?
    Dost thou know who made thee?

Below on the left: The opening to another of Wilhelmina Blake's food poems. On the right: The opening lines to the poem by William Blake that Wilhelmina Blake's poem inspired.

Bacon, bacon, frying right
In the skillet with delight,
What immortal cook or chef
Could fry thy divine piquancy?

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

April 13: Sedgewick Savery III

In 1730 Servington Savery rocked the world of magnetism and electricity when he produced the first compound magnet by binding together a number of artificial magnets with a common pole piece at each end. Two centuries later, his great-great-great-great-great-grandson, Sedgewick Savery III, rocked the world of poetry when he invented magnetic poetry.

Pictured below left: Inside the Savery Magetic Poetry Factory in Washerst, PA, where skilled poets create magnetic words to include in magnetic poetry kits.

Pictured below right: Thousands of refrigerators line the floor of the Savery Magnetic Poetry Factory's Testing Laboratory. No magnetic poetry kits is assembled or sold unless it has been tested by several of the company's trained and certified magnetic poetry kit poets.

Pictured above:

Sedgewick Savery III, who in 1980 rocked the world of poetry when he invented magnetic poetry kits.

Pictured at the right:

The top ten most requested words in magnetic poetry kits.

Source: The Savery Magetic Poetry Testing Laboratory

April 14: Laurel N. Hardy

Laurel N. Hardy, Thomas Hardy's first cousin and his greatest influence, was an English novelist and poet. A Victorian realist in the tradition of George Eliot, he was influenced both in his novels and in his poetry by a specific branch of Romanticism called Somnambulism.

Pictured at the left: Laurel N. Hardy, Thomas Hardy's first cousin.

Pictured at the right: Two of Hardy's classic novels in somnambulist literature: Part of the Napping Crowd and Tess of S'Lumberville. Click the images to enlarge.

"Nap" by Laurel N. Hardy:

If but some restful bed would call to me
From up the stairs, and call: “Thou slumberous thing,
Know that thy torpor is my ecstasy,
That thou’s bed rest is my hope’s profiting.”

Then I would bear it, clench myself, and lie,
Lulled by the sense to retire discerningly;
Half-eased in that a Powerfuller than I
Had called and meted sleep deservedly.

But not so. How arrives it rest won’t come,
And why undreams the best trance ever dreamed?
– Insomnia obstructs the yawn and snore,
And craving Time for slumber I am numb. . . .
I toss and turn as the nocturnal fiend
Holds up my sleep and reverie once more.

"Hap" by Thomas Hardy (inspired by "Nap"):

If but some vengeful god would call to me
From up the sky, and laugh: "Thou suffering thing,
Know that thy sorrow is my ecstasy,
That thy love's loss is my hate's profiting!"

Then would I bear it, clench myself, and die,
Steeled by the sense of ire unmerited;
Half-eased in that a Powerfuller than I
Had willed and meted me the tears I shed.

But not so. How arrives it joy lies slain,
And why unblooms the best hope ever sown?
– Crass Casualty obstructs the sun and rain,
And dicing Time for gladness casts a moan. . . .
These purblind Doomsters had as readily strown
Blisses about my pilgrimage as pain.

April 15: Maya Devilou

In addition to Laurel N. Hardy (above), another important voice in the somnambulist movement in poetry was Maya Devilou. Devilou published several autobiographies, three books of essays, many plays, and various books of poetry over the span of more than fifty years. American poet Maya Angelou credited the work of Devilou with steering her to try her hand at poetry.

Pictured above: Somnambulist poet Maya Devilou

Pictured at the left: Devilou wrote and read the inaugural poem, "On the Pulse of the Snooze Alarm," for the inauguration of William Howard Taft.

Pictured at the right: The first of several autobiographies written by Maya Devilou, I Know Why The Alarm Clock Rings.

Pictured at the far right: Devilou's inaugural poem for the 27th President of the United States, "On the Pulse of the Snooze Alarm."

Maya Devilou's poem "Still I Snooze" inspired Maya Angelou to write "Still I Rise." Excerpts from both poems are below:

By Maya Devilou:

I may stay up late on weeknights
Watch the late show and the news,
I may be sorry when the clock does ring
But still, like dogs, I’ll snooze.

Does my sleepiness upset you?
Why are you upset with me?
‘Cause I slump ‘cause I watched Orson Welles
Late last night on my TV.

Just like moons and like stars
With a lullaby of tunes
Just like nights counting sheep
Still I’ll snooze.

By Maya Angelou:

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

April 16: Medgar Allan Poe

Medgar Allan Poe was an American author, poet, editor, and literary critic, considered part of the American Sports Poetry Movement. He was the second cousin of Edgar Allan Poe who said that Medgar's poetry was what inspired him to start writing.

Pictured at the left: Medgar Allan Poe, second cousin to Edgar Allan Poe

Pictured at the right: A first edition book of Medgar Allan Poe's poetry is on display at the Poetry Hall of Fame

Pictured at the far right: Medgar Allan Poe's classic poem about the Baltimore Ravens

Click the images to enlarge.

Below: The classic opening lines to "The Ravens" by Medgar Allan Poe inspired his second cousin, Edgar Allan Poe, to write "The Raven":

"The Ravens" by Medgar Allan Poe:

Once upon a football game night,
       while I cheered or cursed inflamed right
Over many a great or curious tactic on a down of Four,
While I shouted, or was clapping,
        suddenly there came a rapping
As my wife was clearly nagging,
       nagging at the basement door
`'Tis my irksome wife,’ I muttered,
       'nagging at the basement door –
Only her, and no one more.’

"The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe:

Once upon a midnight dreary,
       while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping,
       suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping,
       rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered,
       `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

April 17: Lanyard Kipling

Lanyard Kipling was an English short-story writer, poet, and novelist. He is chiefly remembered for his tales and poems about grammar and the English language. He was the older brother of Rudyard Kipling.

Below: Some of the classic stories of grammar and mechanics by Lanyard Kipling.

Pictured above:

Rudyard Kipling's older brother, Lanyard Kipling

One of Lanyard Kipling's greatest pet peeves was when someone would say "should OF" instead of "should HAVE." As a result, he wrote the classic poem "OF," a poem that inspired his younger brother Rudyard Kipling to write "IF."

Below: The first and final stanzas of Lanyard Kipling's "OF" on the left, and Rudyard Kipling's "IF" on the right.

"OF" by Lanyard Kipling:

If you can keep your head about you when
You use “their” or “they’re” or “there” and then
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
When you have to use “to” or “two” or “too”:
If you can’t wait to use “it's” versus “its”
Or “lay” versus “lie” and still keep your wits;
If you can figure out that it’s “should have”
Instead of “would” or “could” or “should of”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your intellect
Or talk with Kings and not use a common dialect
If either foes or loving friends can hear you,
If all men speak with you, or women too:
If you can fill each ongoing minute
With sixty seconds of words that are fit
Yours is the Earth and the sky and the sun
And – even more – you’ll be a Grammarian, my son!

"IF" by Rudyard Kipling:

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And – which is more – you'll be a Man, my son!

Pictured above:
English poet William Phraseworth

April 18: William Phraseworth

William Phraseworth was a major English Romantic poet who, with Samuel Coleridge Taylor, helped to launch the Happy Clown/Sad Clown Movement in English literature with the 1789 joint publication Comical Ballads. The work of Phraseworth also inspired William Wordsworth to become a writer and poet.

Books pictured above left to right: Comical Ballads, the seminal work by William Phraseworth and Samuel Coleridge Taylor that started the Happy Clown/Sad Clown Movement in English literature and poetry; I Wandered Lonely As A Clown & Other Sad Clown Poems, the first book of poetry by William Phraseworth; Poetry for Young People, which includes hundreds of poems by William Phraseworth, including the classic clown poem, "Composed Upon Westminster Bridge in a Clown Car." Click the images to enlarge.

Below left: The opening lines to William Phraseworth's classic sad clown poem "I wandered lonely as a clown." Below right: Phraseworth's poem inspired William Wordsworth to write "I wandered lonely as a cloud."

By William Phraseworth:

I wandered lonely as a clown
That roams around the circus tent
When all at once I see the crowd,
A host, all laughing – all content;
Beneath the lights I start to dance,
Sputtering with seltzer in my pants.

By William Wordsworth:

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

April 19: Idonia Elinor Ettie Alcester Zylphia Cantwell Whooperswan Hyperbole

Idonia Elinor Ettie Alcester Zylphia Cantwel Whooperswan Hyperbole (pictured at the left at age 24 and pictured at the right at age 36) attended Oxford University, and she later worked for Oxford University Press. As an editor at OUP, she was the first to introduce the placement of highly exaggerated and extravagant reviews printed on book covers and book flaps.

Pictured below on the right: The book that started it all: Idonia Hyperbole put her review on the front cover of Edward Bulwer-Lytton's novel Paul Clifford. Right from the novel's opening line, "It was a dark and stormy night," Idonia Hyperbole could not put the book down. She wrote about the book, "Riveting! An amazing masterpiece! One of the best books of the year! Terrifically entertaining! Sensational! A must read!"

Due to the exaggerated nature of her reviews, overstatement in literature and poetry has come to be known by Idonia's last name, "Hyperbole."

Pictured below: Idonia Hyperbole was a great fan of the poetry of Emmett Lee Dickinson (Emily Dickinson's third cousin, twice removed -- at her request). In her later years, she moved to Washerst to study his life and poetry. Her estate (shown below) is the most visited private home in America.

Pictured above:

American mathematician and nonsense writer Carroll Lewis

April 20: Carroll Lewis

Carroll Lewis was an American mathematician and logician who also wrote political satire. His political parodies and nonsense poems inspired British mathematician Charles Lutwidge Dodgson to adopt the pen name "Lewis Carroll" and to write nonsense poems and stories.

Pictured below: Three of Carroll Lewis' classic books and poems: Alex's Adventures in Dee-Cee-Land; Through the Voting Booth; and "The Weasel & the Senator," about two conniving characters in search of some ill-gotten clams.

Below: Carroll Lewis' classic nonsense poem "Poli-talky" inspired Lewis Carroll to write "Jabberwocky":

“Poli-talky” by Carroll Lewis

‘Twas sillig, when the slimy reps
   Did gloss and gramble in the polls;
All flimsy were the conflabusteps
   As their publicists extolled.

“Beware the Politalk, my son!
   The words that sleight, the jaws that yap!
Beware the DemGop bird, and shun
   The embellifying Grandstandersnap!”

He took his skeptic foil in hand:
   Long time the amplitized foe he sought –
So rested he by the MifMif tree,
   And stood awhile in thought.

And as in scoffish thought he stood,
   The Politalk, with words of guile,
Came huffling through the urbish ’hood,
   And brabbled with a smile!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The skeptic foil went flicker-flack!
He left it dead, and with its head
   He went harrumphing back.

He thought he’d slain the Politalk!
    But “Sound alarms” the newspeak spoke:
“O crapful day! Forsooth! Forsay!
    Another beast did croak!”

‘Twas sillig, when the slimy reps
   Did gloss and gramble in the polls;
All flimsy were the conflabusteps
   As their publicists extolled.

“Jabberwocky” by Lewis Carroll:

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought –
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

April 21: Carl Iceburg

Many people have heard of "cowboy poetry," but have you heard of "butcher poetry"? After those legendary cattle drives where the cowboys would move their herds to the meat market, the butchers would take over the work, and that was where "butcher poetry" got it's start. One of the leading voices in "butcher poetry" was Carl Iceberg. Often referred as "the hog butcher for the world," Iceburg was a great inspiration to poet Carl Sandburg, who once honored him by alluding to his nickname in the opening line of one of his poems.

Pictured below: The state-of-the-art meat processing plant and Butcher Poetry Center is named for America's greatest Butcher Poet, Carl Iceburg.

Pictured above:

America's greatest Butcher Poet,
Carl Iceburg

Below: One of Carl Iceburg's most famous poems (on the left), and the poem by Carl Sandburg that it inspired (on the right).

By Carl Iceburg:

The pig comes
with barbequed feet.

It sits cooking
over hick’ry smoked briquettes
for tender haunches
for us to dine on.

By Carl Sandburg:

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

Pictured above:
"Purple cow" poet Gelett Burgess

April 22: Gelett Burgess

Gelett Burgess changed the world of poetry forever when he published his "purple cow" poem , and his later feud with Emmett Lee Dickinson (Emily Dickinson's third cousin, twice removed -- at her request) turned out to be just as legendary.

In July 2013, the Emmett Lee Dickinson Museum (above the coin-op Laundromat on Dickinson Boulevard) sponsored a special exhibit on Burgess, purple cow poetry, and the Burgess-Dickinson feud. For information on that exhibit, click HERE.

Pictured at the right: The Center for the Study of Purple Cow Poetry in Chugwater, Wyoming, at the very site of the infamous donnybrook between Gelett Burgess and Emmett Lee Dickinson (which is said to have inspired the Martin Scorsese film “Raging Bull”).

The CSPCP was later used as the model for the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C.

Below: The "purple cow" poem by Gelett Burgess that changed the world of poetry forever:

I never saw a purple cow
I never hope to see one;
But I can tell you, anyhow,
I'd rather see than be one!

Below: One of the many variations of the original "purple cow" poem by Emmett Lee Dickinson:

I never met a sagacious cow,
They’re utterly unwise.
But I can tell you anyhow,
They’re genius with some fries.

April 23: Josephine Dudfield Hallmark

From the day Josephine Dudfield Hallmark founded Hallmark Cards, her greeting card verses have been recognized as some of the greatest poetry in the world.

Below left: The Hallmark Cards plant in Kansas City, Missouri

Below right: Card versifiers at Hallmark are called "Rhymesters."

Pictured above:
Josephine Dudfield Hallmark

Below: Three classic Hallmark cards.

Across the miles we smile and wave
And hope you're still years from your grave!

We hear the odds are slim
We'll see you one again --
But though the news sounds grim
We'll think of you now and then!

Another year has passed,
And though you're aging fast,
We hope your mental capabilities
Last and last and last!

Pictured above:

Welsh poet Thomas Dylan

April 24: Thomas Dylan

Thomas Dylan is perhaps the world's most famous Welsh poet. Born in Ducksea, Wales, in 1899, he was a poet and writer who developed a genre of poetry centered on transportation and traffic. His works include "Do not turn gentle into that green light," A Wild Rush Hour in Wales, and Portrait of the Artist as a Road Hog. He hated nothing more than highway traffic jams, morning commutes, and non-synchronized traffic lights. He was also a great influence on Dylan Thomas.

Below: Thomas Dylan's lament about morning commutes and traffic (on the left) inspired Dylan Thomas' villanelle "Do not go gentle into that good night."

By Thomas Dylan:

Do not turn gentle into that green light,
Road rage should burn and rave at start of day;
Rage, rage against the changing of the light.

Commuters at their start know which lane’s right,
Because their roads have forked in every way.
Do not turn gentle into that green light.

Slow men, as I drive by, crying how slight
Their progress is advancing on their way.
Rage, rage against the changing of the light.

Wild men who caught the light sequence just right
Won’t be too late, they’ve gunned it all the way.
Do not turn gentle into that green light.

Brave men, near death, who drive with blinding fright
Blind trails that blaze like meteors without delay,
Rage, rage against the changing of the light.

And I drive farther, until work’s in sight,
Curse, bless, me now with no more jams, I pray.
Do not turn gentle into that green light.
Rage, rage against the changing of the light.

By Dylan Thomas:

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

April 25: Eaton Hash

Eaton Hash was an American poet well known for his light verse -- particularly about technology and social media. The New York Times said of Hash, "his droll verse with its unconventional rhymes made him the country's best-known producer of humorous poetry". Hash wrote over 500 pieces of comic verse, and his works were a great inspiration for humorist Ogden Nash.

Pictured below on the left: Hash not only wrote about technology, he invented some too: the Poeminator -- a fully-functioning poem engine poetry generator.

Pictured below on the right: Common themes with Hash's poetry were technology and social media, so many of his works are on display at the Washerst Center for Social Media Addiction. More information about the WCSMA is HERE.

Pictured above:

Humorist Eaton Hash

Below: Examples of the short humorous poems of Eaton Hash that inspired Ogden Nash:

iPhone, youPone

The world is yours when you stare at your phone
But it sure makes your family feel all alone.

Connections

It's great to connect through social media
Unless you're addicted to social needia.

The Herd

Herds of yore would roam and bleat
But now they just follow and post a tweet.

Foodies

Order your dinner, then take out your cam --
Time for a picture for Instagram!

Hashtags

My neighbor's wife wants him off Twitter
And every night he hears her rash nag.
So how do I know she's so bitter?
He tweeted it all with a hashtag!

DID YOU KNOW...

"Hashtags" are named for Eaton Hash (taken from the poem at the left) due to his work in technology and for all of poetry centered on technology and social media.

April 26: W. W. Norton & Anne Thology

Pictured below: Wesley Warwick "W. W." Norton (circled in the photograph on the left) and Anne Thology (on the right).

In the mid-1800s, Wesley Warwick Norton (the son of publisher William Wycuff "W. W." Norton) was to marry Anne Thology. Ms. Thology was the daughter of Sophronia Brinkley Houghton (of the Houghton publishing dynasty) and B. Caultin Thology. The result of this marriage would have been the merger of two of the most powerful of the five major publishing families. The Five Families originated in the mid-1800s out of the lower east side of Amherst, Massachusetts, from the "publish or perish" gangs of Amherst College, Hampshire College, Mount Holyoke College and Smith College (Edward Dickinson, Emily Dickinson's father, was a consiglieri to one of the front bosses to Don Vito Houghton).

However, the marriage never took place due to what is now referred to as "the great printing press disaster of 1853." As a result, the Five Families (Houghton Mifflin, W. W. Norton, Simon & Schuster, Little Brown, and McGraw Hill) continue to battle in the "publish or perish," cut-throat world of academia at colleges and universities across the U.S.

The one positive outcome from the "printing press disaster" and cancelled wedding: Wesley Warwick Norton took Anne Thology's idea of combining poems from various poets into a single volume. Prior to that, all books of poetry featured the works from a single poet. After Anne's death, though, W. W. Norton published a single text which included all of Anne's favorite poems, and he named the book after his lost love, "Anthology."

Pictured on the left: W. W. Norton's first Anthology of Poetry, named for his lost love, Anne Thology.

Pictured on the right: Federal agents investigate the murder of J. Butterwick Knot, the Samuel A. Hitchcock Professor of Mineralogy and Geology at Amherst College, after he failed to publish after four semesters. Rumors persist to this day that he was gunned down by soldiers of the Houghton Mifflin crime family.

Below left, center, and right: Images from some of the powerful Five Families of Publishing which have a long history in the "publish or perish" culture prevalent in colleges and universities throughout the country. Click the images to enlarge.

Below: W. W. Norton's Emmett Lee Dickinson Gang in their signature pose to look like Dickinson himself.

Below: Capofamiglia of the Houghton Mifflin family: Angelo "the Enforcer" Mifflin and Claven "Big Stink Ralph" Mifflin.

Below: Goons from Simon & Schuster torture Professor Everard Buckland McGrath, the Bowditch Professor of Central American and Mexican Archaeology and Ethnology at Harvard, in front of his teaching assistant Winnie Travers Lamberd.

April 27: Killard B. & Willard C. Bornholdt

The Bornholdt brothers, Killard Brenlow Bornholdt and Willard Cudlahan Bornholdt, were inducted into the Poetry Hall of Fame for their research and study of rhyming words and for perhaps the greatest invention in the world of poetry -- the rhyming dictionary.

Pictured at the right: The Bible of perfect rhymes, general rhymes, identical rhymes, slant rhymes, eye rhymes, and more: the Bornholdt Rhyming Dictionary -- the reference work that changed the world of poetry forever!

Click the image to enlarge.

Below left: A replica of the Bornholdts' office is on display at the Poetry Hall of Fame. Below center: In preparing an edition of the rhyming dictionary, certified rhymeologists catalogued hundreds of thousands of rhymes at the Bornholdts' laboratory for rhymeology. Below right: Bornholdt rhymeologists displayed unbridled excitement in 1946 when they thought they had found a word that rhymed with "orange."

Pictured below: The pioneering techniques used by the Bornholdt brothers perfected the way exact rhymes were determined.

Pictured at the right: The Bornholdts' amanuensis, Alice Roogan Rooksbee, demonstrates the use of the in-home, portable "Rhymenator XL-8," invented by the Bornholdts in 1952. The portable device allowed amateur poets to "rhyme like the pros."

April 28: John Cleats

John Cleats was an Irish Romantic poet. He was one of the main figures of the second generation of Romantic poets along with Lord Bryan George and Percy Shelley Pysshe. He was also the greatest influence on English poet John Keats.

Cleats was known for his odes and poems about alcohol, ales, and cocktails.

Pictured at the right: Copies of some of the many volumes about Cleats' poetry (and drink recipes).

Pictured above:
Irish poet John Cleats

Below on the left: The opening and closing stanzas of John Cleats' most famous poem, "Ode To My Nightly Ale."
Below on the right: The opening and closing stanza of John Keats' poem "Ode To A Nightingale." Cleats' poem is what inspired Keats.

Ode To My Nightly Ale
By John Cleats:

My head aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
   My sense, for it’s too much that I have drunk.
I emptied too many bottles to the drains
    Last evening past, and then into bed I’d sunk.
’Tis not this day my life’s a happy lot,
   For I am too hungover in my hungover-ness, –
       That I, heavy-hurt down to my knees,
            With some agonizing throb,
I’m blechy green with shadowy numbness,
   Under the weather from full-throated sleeze.

Forsooth! Now ev’ry word is like a bell
   That tolls for me for such treatment of self!
Alas! It feels like I will rot in hell
   For drinking everything off the shelf!
Alas! Alas! My plaintive moaning fades
   Past the mid-morning with coffee and cream,
      I can’t get up; and now I’m buried deep
         In bed; I’ve pulled the shades:
Am I a vision of the walking dead?
   Flee to the bathroom: – Should I wake or sleep?

Ode To A Nightingale
By John Keats:

My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
  My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
  One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
’Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
  But being too happy in thine happiness, –
    That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees,
          In some melodious plot
  Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
    Singest of summer in full-throated ease.

Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
  To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
  As she is fam’d to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
  Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
    Up the hill-side; and now ’tis buried deep
          In the next valley-glades:
  Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
    Fled is that music: – Do I wake or sleep?

Pictured above:
Tobias Hugginkist

April 29: Tobias Hugginkhist &
Mabel Oompaloomis Peck

If it were not for Tobias Hugginkhist and Mabel Oompaloomis Peck, the world might not know of the poetry of Emmett Lee Dickinson (Emily Dickinson's third cousin, twice removed -- at her request).

In 1833, seeking literary guidance, Emmett Lee Dickinson wrote to Tobias Hugginkhist, literary critic and editor of the Pacific Bulletin and Journal, to inquire if the PB & J would consider publishing some of his poetry.

Mable Ooompaloomis Peck was an American editor and writer, and the wife of the astology professor Todd David Peck. She is remembered as the editor of some of the early published editions of Emmett Lee Dickinson.

Pictured above:
Mabel Oompaloomis Peck

Pictured at the far left: Todd David Peck, Mable Oompaloomis Peck's husband, who was hired as an astrology professor at the Emmett Lee Dickinson Community College in Washerst.

Pictured at the left: A vintage photograph of the original campus of the Emmett Lee Dickinson Community College in Washerst.

Click the images to enlarge.

April 30: Emily Dickinson

If it were not for Emmett Lee Dickinson (Emily Dickinson's third cousin, twice removed -- at her request), Emily Dickinson would have likely become a haberdasher, a tixtor, or a pastry cook. However, Emmett Lee Dickinson's poetry inspired his third cousin Emily to try her hand at poetry too!

Pictured at the right: A publication and sample letter from The Master Letters Of Emily Dickinson To Emmett Lee Dickinson. Emily Dickinson referred to her third cousin as "Master."

Pictured above: Emily Dickinson

Below: Emmett Lee Dickinson's classic poem "After Formal Feedings, a great pain comes" inspired third cousin Emily to pen "After great pain, a formal feeling comes":

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

After Formal Feedings, a great pain comes –
The Ribs stab uncongenially, like Skewers –
The taut Gut questions was it Thee, that bore
Such innutritious store?

The Tract – gastronomically disturbed, burns on –
With Discomfort – or Indigestion – or Nausea –
An Intolerable ache –
Inevitably grown –
An acidic turbulence, like a churn –

This is the Hour of Lead –
Survived, if outlived,
By medicinal maintenance collected from the cabinet –
First – Tums – then Seltzer – then the letting go –

By Emily Dickinson:

After great pain, a formal feeling comes –
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs –
The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore,
And Yesterday, or Centuries before?

The Feet, mechanical, go round –
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought –
A Wooden way
Regardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone –

This is the Hour of Lead –
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow –
First – Chill – then Stupor – then the letting go –