Emily Dickinson

 

I cannot live with You

(poem)

 

 

 

I cannot live with You 

It would be Life 

And Life is over there 

Behind the Shelf

 

 

The Sexton keeps the key to

Putting up

Our Life – His Porcelain –

Like a Cup

Discarded of the Housewife

Quaint – or Broke –

A newer Sevres pleases –

Old Ones crack –

 

 

I could not die with You 

For One must wait

To shut the Other’s Gaze down –

You – could not –

And I – Could I stand by

And see You – freeze –

Without my Right of Frost –

Death’s privilege?

 

 

Nor could I rise with You 

Because Your Face

Would put out Jesus’ –

That New Grace

Glow plain – and foreign

On my homesick eye –

Except that You than He

Shone closer by –

 

 

They’d judge Us – How –

For You – served Heaven – You know,

Or sought to –

I could not –

 

 

Because You saturated sight –

And I had no more eyes

For sordid excellence

As Paradise

 

 

And were You lost,

I would be –

Though my name

Rang loudest

On the Heavenly fame –

 

 

And were You saved –

And I – condemned to be Where You were not –

That self – were Hell to me –

 

 

So We must meet apart –

You there – I – here – With just the Door ajar

 

That Oceans are – and Prayer –

And that White Sustenance –

Despair.

…

..

.

Emily Dickinson – I cannot live with You

 

 

 

Emily Dickinson

 

 

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (December 10, 1830 – May 15, 1886) was an American poet.
Emily Dickinson lived much of her life in reclusive isolation. Considered an eccentric by locals, she developed a noted penchant for white clothing and became known for her reluctance to greet guests or, later in life, to even leave her bedroom. Emily Dickinson never married, and most friendships between her and others depended entirely upon correspondence. She was a recluse for the later years of her life.

While Emily Dickinson was a prolific private poet, fewer than a dozen of her nearly 1,800 poems were published during her lifetime.

Although Emily Dickinson‘s acquaintances were most likely aware of her writing, it was not until after her death in 1886—when Lavinia, Emily Dickinson’s younger sister, discovered her cache of poems—that the breadth of her work became apparent to the public. (from: wikipedia)

 

 

 

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