I, Emily Dickinson

1
I am afraid to own a body
I am alive I guess
I am ashamed, I hide
I asked no other thing

I bet with every wind that blew
I breathed enough to take the trick
I bring an unaccustomed wine
I came to buy a smile today

I can wade grief
I cannot be ashamed
I cannot buy it, ‘tis not sold
I cannot dance upon my toes

I cannot live with you
I cannot meet the spring unmoved
I cannot see my soul but know ‘tis there
I cannot want it more

2
I can’t tell you but you feel it
I cautious scanned my little life
I could bring you jewels had I a mind to
I could die to know

I could not drink it, sweet
I could not prove the years had feet
I could suffice for him, I knew
I counted till they danced so

I cried at pity, not at pain
I cross till I am weary
I did not reach thee
I died for beauty, but was scarce

I dreaded that first robin so
I dwell in possibility
I envy seas whereon he rides
I fear a man of frugal speech

3
I felt a cleaving in my mind
I felt a funeral in my brain
I felt my life with both my hands
I fit for them

I found the words to every thought
I gained it so
I gave myself to him
I got so I could take his name

I groped for him before I knew
I had a daily bliss
I had a guinea gold
I had been hungry all the years

I had no cause to be awake
I had no time to hate
I had not minded walls
I had some things that I called mine

4
I had the glory – that will do
I have a bird in spring
I have a king who does not speak
I have never seen “Volcanoes”

I have no like but this
I haven’t told my garden yet
I heard a fly buzz when I died
I heard as if I had no ear

I held a jewel in my fingers
I hide myself within my flower
I keep my pledge
I knew that I had gained

I know a place where summer strives
I know lives, I could miss
I know of people in the grave
I know some lonely houses off the road

5
I know suspense – it steps so terse
I know that he exists
I know where wells grow, droughtless wells
I learned at least what home could be

I like a look of agony
I like to see it lap the miles
I live with him, I see his face
I lived on dread

I lost the world the other day
I made slow riches but my gain
I make his crescent fill or lack
I many times thought peace had come

I meant to find her when I came
I meant to have but modest needs
I measure every grief I meet
I met a king this afternoon

6
I never felt at home below
I never hear that one is dead
I never hear the word “escape”
I never lost as much but twice

I never saw a moor
I never told the buried gold
I noticed people disappeared
I often passed the village

I pay in satin cash
I play at riches to appease
I prayed at first a little girl
I read my sentence steadily

I reason earth is short
I reckon when I count at all
I robbed the woods
I rose because he sank

7
I saw no way – the heavens were stitched
I saw that the flake was on it
I saw the wind within her
I see thee better in the dark

I see thee clearer for the grave
I send two sunsets
I send you a decrepit flower
I shall keep singing

I shall know why, when time is over
I shall not murmur if at last
I should have been too glad, I see
I should not dare to be so sad

I should not dare to leave my friend
I showed her heights she never saw
I sing to use the waiting
I sometimes drop it, for a quick

8
I started early, took my dog
I stepped from plank to plank
I stole them from a bee
I sued the news, yet feared the news

I suppose the time will come
I taste a liquor never brewed
I tend my flowers for thee
I think I was enchanted

I think just how my shape will rise
I think that the root of the wind is water
I think the hemlock likes to stand
I think the longest hour of all

I think to live may be a bliss
I thought that nature was enough
I thought the train would never come
I tie my hat, I crease my shawl

9
I took my power in my hand
I took one draught of life
I tried to think a lonelier thing
“I want” – it pleaded all its life

I was a phoebe, nothing more
I was the slightest in the house
I watched her face to see which way
I watched the moon around the house

I went to heaven
I went to thank her
I worked for chaff and earning wheat
I would distil a cup

I would not paint a picture
I years had been from home

All the lines beginning with the first person pronoun ‘I’ from the Index of First Lines, The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, Edited by Thomas H. Johnson (Little, Brown and Company, 1960). By J.R. Solonche.

Broken bones

Baby chicks hatch out of eggs
Smoke goes up a chimney
Chess is a kind of game

Spilt ink makes a splotch
Broken bones can be set in a splint
Rain splashes into puddles

The lamb has a woolly coat
The carving knife is long and sharp
A wren is a small brown bird

Sentences out of my homework book from when I was 6. We had to put words into sentences three at a time.

Magnetic

Magnetic Boys Talk

boots glue monster scary bones
racing moon helicopter aeroplane
tractor money lorry wizard conkers
frogs sticks mud dirt spiders snails
stones bubbles sweets flags magic
pond string grass rugby bug dogs
caterpillar cobweb worms dinosaur
dragon bike scooter forest treasure
climbing swinging skeleton running
ghost trees swimming lawnmower
treehouse blue football chocolate car

Magnetic Girls Talk

clothes hairband heart love sparkle
perfume beads necklace furry lipstick
ribbon handbag wand glitter fairies
fluff candy flowers wings sherbet
bubbles sweets pink make-up skipping
magic dancing ballet bunnies rainbow
ladybird lemonade stars sky shoes
chocolate doll party secret diary hair
jewels princess queen tiara ice-cream
teddy music sunshine birds butterfly
sugar angel diamond cooking friends

‘Favourite Boys words’ and ‘favourite Girls words’ as found on fridge magnets, via The Kraken Wakes. By Simon Williams.

Birth of the Suwannee

Cypress trees,
bottle-shaped, grotesque,
reach from the wine-colored water,
form a canopy. Light is weird and green.

Banners of
Spanish moss hide
the feathery foliage of
living trees, cover up dead stumps.

Through the vast
drowned swamp two tiny
streams creep sluggishly to join
at last before a spit of quaking land.

From Suwannee River Strange Green Land, Cecile Hulse Matschat (1938). By Dawn Corrigan.

Doubles

I miss you. I hark back to the friendship
we used to have, impromptu adventures,
knowing the everyday details of each
other’s lives, nights in watching trashy TV.

I’ve been there at 3am when you’ve clutched
my hand and explained he’s dependable
and he’ll make a great father. I want to
tell you that it’s the 21st century

but you don’t listen to me any more.
I am impeccably polite. I put on
a rictus grin when you spend an hour
discussing your wedding plans. I am

becoming a souvenir of your past life,
to be gradually discarded for
women you can play doubles tennis with.
I’m happy for you. But I wish you’d call.

From What I’m really thinking: the single friend.

Prescription for a creative burst

I want to sit out in privety
with my dressing-gown on
and nobody to see
but it must have a balcony.

Then I can finish my writing.
It’s a hundred-and-forty a night, with a hot tub.
That’s no good. I can’t write
with a fountainpen in a hot tub.

I wonder if there’s background music.
I can’t have the sort of music
that keeps you jumpin’ all the while.
There needs to be quiet.

The windows have got to open.
I must hear water all the time.
If I get a room that’s luxurious
I’ll get writing in half the time.

I want to see Rooms One and Eight.
I want to see if they’ll do.
I don’t need you to come with me,
but I’ll need you to move in with me.

It’s all sketched out already,
just waiting to be filled in.
I’m tense till I get this settled.
Can’t get my head round it till then.

Overheard in a hotel bar in Ludlow, Shropshire, 10 March 2013. By John Killic.

Richard Stallman’s rider 4

Food, or, You need to know what I dislike

avocado, eggplant, usually
(there are occasional exceptions)
hot pepper, olives, liver
(even in trace quantities)

stomach and intestine, other organ meats
cooked tuna, oysters, egg yolk
if the taste is noticeable,
except when boiled completely hard

many strong cheeses, especially those
with green fungus, desserts
that contain fruit or liqueur flavors
sour fruits, such as grapefruit

and many oranges, beer, coffee
though weak coffee flavor can be good
in desserts, the taste of alcohol
so I don’t drink anything stronger than wine

From the detailed requirements that Richard Stallman sends ahead of his speaking engagements.

Richard Stallman’s rider 1
Richard Stallman’s rider 2
Richard Stallman’s rider 3
Richard Stallman’s rider 5

Richard Stallman’s rider 2

Pets

I like cats if they are friendly,
but they are not good for me;
I am somewhat allergic to them.
This allergy

makes my face itch and my eyes
water. So the bed, and the room
I will usually be staying in,
need to be clean of cat hair.

However, it is no problem
if there is a cat elsewhere
in the house – I might enjoy it
if the cat is friendly.

Dogs that bark angrily
and or jump up on me
frighten me, unless they are small
and cannot reach above my knees.

But if they only bark or jump
when we enter the house,
I can cope, as long as you
hold the dog away from me

at that time. Aside from that
issue, I’m ok with dogs.
If you can find a host for me
that has a friendly parrot,

I will be very very glad.
If you can find someone who
has a friendly parrot I can
visit with, that will be nice too.

DON’T buy a parrot figuring
that it will be a fun surprise
for me. To acquire a parrot
is a major decision:

it is likely to outlive you.
If you don’t know how to treat
the parrot, it could be emotionally
scarred and spend many decades

feeling frightened and unhappy.
If you buy a captured wild
parrot, you will promote a cruel
and devastating practice,

and the parrot will be emotionally
scarred before you get it.
Meeting that sad animal
is not an agreeable surprise.

From the detailed requirements that Richard Stallman sends ahead of his speaking engagements.

Richard Stallman’s rider 1
Richard Stallman’s rider 3
Richard Stallman’s rider 4
Richard Stallman’s rider 5

Mother Tongue

John have you got your umbrella
I think it’s going to rain. Can you
come play with me? If I told you
once I told you a hundred times.

Things here just aren’t the same without
Mother, I will now sign your
affectionate brother James. Oh
what am I going to do? So

I said to her I said if he
thinks she’s going to stand for that but
then there’s his arthritis poor thing
and no work. I love you. I hate

you. I hate liver. Joan dear did
you feed the sheep, don’t just stand around
mooning. Tell me what they said, tell
me what you did. Oh how my feet

do hurt. My heart is breaking. Touch
me here, touch me again. Once bit
twice shy. You look like what the cat
dragged in. What a beautiful night.

Good morning, hello, goodbye, have
a nice day, thanks. God damn you to
hell you lying cheat. Pass the soy
sauce please. Oh shit. Is it grandma’s

own sweet pretty dear? What am I
going to tell her? There there don’t
cry. Go to sleep now, go to sleep….
Don’t go to sleep!

From a commencement address given by Ursula le Guin at Bryn Mawr College, 1986. By Jim.