We have a thing for Emily Dickinson. Sort of.
I Started Early — Took My Dog —
I started Early – Took my Dog –
And visited the Sea –
The Mermaids in the Basement
Came out to look at me –
And Frigates – in the Upper Floor
Extended Hempen Hands –
Presuming Me to be a Mouse –
Aground – upon the Sands –
But no Man moved Me – till the Tide
Went past my simple Shoe –
And past my Apron – and my Belt
And past my Bodice – too –
And made as He would eat me up –
As wholly as a Dew
Upon a Dandelion’s Sleeve –
And then – I started – too –
And He – He followed – close behind –
I felt His Silver Heel
Upon my Ankle – Then My Shoes
Would overflow with Pearl –
Until We met the Solid Town –
No One He seemed to know –
And bowing – with a Mighty look –
At me – The Sea withdrew –
— Emily Dickinson, from The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson
- The Poetry Club Tea Date ✨ First Fall - December 10, 2020
- The Poetry Club Tea Date ✨ Braiding His Hair - October 22, 2020
- 5-Minute Refresh: Proof of Thought - October 15, 2020
Laura Brown says
Oh, so enchanting.
That pencil post is pretty good too.
L. L. Barkat says
Enchanting. Exactly that 🙂
Rick Maxson says
This is one of my favorite Emily Dickinson poems and the video suits it perfectly. The poem reads like a daydream. It is both fantastical and surreal to me. It also begs some interesting questions: what about the dog; why does the sea seem to be a He, when typically the sea is referred to as feminine?
The dream (poem) starts in a house (basement, upper floor) and moves into the ocean as it intensifies. The Hempen hands of sailors (beckoning, pulling her into the dream??).
Her fantasy (poem) seems to engulf her where her shoe makes of her an oyster filling up with pearls. Did she really go for a walk? Does the town represent the real world and is that what breaks her revery?
Are the final two lines a comment on the power of imagination?
When we daydream they seem to overtake us. Someone wakes us, saying where were you. Right?
L. L. Barkat says
Rick, that’s a whole wonderful essay idea!
I had read it pretty straight up. She walked to the sea (at least in the poem) and got… quite wet. The idea of that made me smile, knowing how reclusive she actually was. Maybe poetry was, in fact, her ocean.
I loved the pearls part of the poem. Whimsical and beautiful, both.
Matthew Kreider says
Today I came across Alice Notely’s ‘My Sea’ (http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poem/250644), and its speaker also talks about a basement, which connects to “My Sea” — and then comes this very beautiful splash:
“The answers/ break with foam and wild pearls.”
Suddenly, I hear this as a response to Rick’s great question, upon waking from the daydream, “Where were you?” 🙂
Matthew Kreider says
Drat! I misspelled her name! Alice Notley,
Rick Maxson says
Ah! a House of Answers as Notley writes. I’m thinking this is a direct allusion to Emily Dickinson. Perhaps Notley’s poem, still a bit mysterious itself. I ask, isn’t our imagination the House of Answers? What is within us a basement we don’t know about; where DO we go in dreams, but to this basement?
Rick Maxson says
Thanks. I think I’ll take you up on that ! 🙂
Diana Trautwein says
So lovely. And a grand thread, too. Thank you.
lynn__ says
Enjoyed this whimsical walk seaside with Emily’s imagination…missing my dog and walking partner (claimed by death’s tide 1 week ago).