Who Was Emily Dickinson?



Did you know that Emily Dickinson wrote an autobiography?  

Neither did she! 

Scroll down see a recently discovered autobiographical poem.

She wrote every word of it, whether or not she meant to.  


Scroll further down to see a link to an amazing lost (also recently discovered) Masterpiece of 19th century American art!

This 1854 oil painting is one of the precious few images of this World Famous Poet known to exist, and it is truly magnificent! 


Do You Love Emily Dickinson?

You've come to the right place. 




The Autobiography of Emily Dickinson



His Cheek Is His Biographer

by Emily Dickinson 


Found by Judee Shipman

Composed of first lines from the verses of Emily Dickinson 




The first Day that I was a Life

The Clouds their Backs together laid

An awful Tempest mashed the air —

The Flake the Wind exasperate


A curious Cloud surprised the Sky

I had no Cause to be awake

’Twas just this time, last year, I died. 

Time’s wily Chargers will not wait


The Sun kept stooping — stooping — low!

As far from pity, as complaint

On this long storm the Rainbow rose

Our little Kinsman — after Rain


My Reward for Being, was This.

My Maker — let me be

I think to Live — may be a Bliss

The earth has many keys. 


There is a solitude of space

Advance is Life’s condition

The Life that tied too tight escapes

The Chemical conviction


Of Consciousness, her awful Mate

How well I knew Her not

One Life of so much Consequence!

I found the words to every thought 


***



Bees are Black with Gilt Surcingles

Pigmy seraphs — gone astray

A wild Blue sky abreast of Winds

Absent Place — an April Day


I think the Root of the Wind is Water

Two swimmers wrestled in the spar

The parasol is the umbrella’s daughter

Touch lightly Nature’s sweet Guitar 


A Word dropped careless on a Page 

A transport one cannot contain

If I can stop one Heart from breaking 

The Road to Paradise is plain 


Expectation — is Contentment 

Exhiliration is the Breeze 

Experiment escorts us last

Estranged from Beauty — none can be 


Many a phrase has the English language

All the letters I can write

One Joy of so much anguish

’Tis Anguish grander than Delight 


***



One Sister have I in our house

I showed her Heights she never saw

Eden is that old-fashioned House

Circumference thou Bride of Awe 


To see her is a Picture 

The Heart has many Doors 

To own a Susan of my own 

I cannot want it more 


Could that sweet Darkness where they dwell 

That I did always love 

Like Some Old fashioned Miracle  

Once more, my now bewildered Dove 


Who saw no Sunrise cannot say

The first Day’s Night had come

The Sun went down — no Man looked on

The Trees like Tassels — hit — and swung 


If she had been the Mistletoe 

In Winter in my Room 

If What we could — were what we would 

Be Mine the Doom 


I taste a liquor never brewed  

A little Madness in the Spring 

For largest Woman’s Hearth I knew 

I asked no other thing   


***



What I see not, I better see

When Night is almost done

When the Astronomer stops seeking

Nature assigns the Sun 


I started Early — Took my Dog  

The Mountain sat upon the Plain 

This — is the land — the Sunset washes 

This is a Blossom of the Brain 


New feet within my garden go

Why should we hurry — why indeed?

I cannot buy it — ’tis not sold

The Murmur of the Bee 


The Bat is dun, with wrinkled Wings 

The Spider holds a Silver Ball 

The Bird her punctual music brings 

I tie my Hat — I crease my Shawl 


A full fed Rose on meals of Tint

The Hills in Purple syllables

Frequently the woods are pink —

Delight — becomes pictorial 


My Eye is fuller than my vase

My Faith is larger than the hills

My Heart upon a little Plate

My first well Day — since many ill 


***



I watched her face to see which way 

Did We abolish Frost 

Where bells no more affright the morn 

If those I loved were lost 


It troubled me as once I was 

The Merchant of the Picturesque 

If Nature smiles — the Mother must 

Just Once! Oh least Request! 


I know of people in the Grave 

Quite empty, quite at rest 

I Came to buy a smile — today 

I am alive — I guess 


We do not know the time we lose 

Oh, honey of an hour 

The duties of the Wind are few 

To be alive — is Power 


'Tis customary as we part 

When we have ceased to care  

This dirty — little — Heart 

This Consciousness that is aware


Of so divine a Loss 

All overgrown by cunning moss   

When One has given up One's life 


'Twas here my summer paused 


***



When I was small, a Woman died

The only Ghost I ever saw

The Sunset stopped on Cottages

The Road was lit with Moon and star 


'Twas comfort in her Dying Room 

The Lassitudes of Contemplation 

She went as quiet as the Dew 

She rose as high as His Occasion 


She dealt her pretty words like Blades

We grow accustomed to the Dark

We shun because we prize her Face

Like Men and Women Shadows walk 


Lightly stepped a yellow star

Unfulfilled to Observation

Those final Creatures — who they are

Tomorrow — whose location


I heard as if I had no Ear

An altered look about the hills

Is it too late to touch you, Dear?

The Sun kept setting — setting — still 


I felt a Funeral in my Brain

Two Travellers perishing in Snow

The Frost of Death was on the Pane

Where Roses would not dare to go 


***


Although I put away this life

As Children bid the Guest Good Night 

Because I could not stop for Death 

The Day grew small, surrounded tight  


We don’t cry — Tim and I 

We talked as Girls do

At last, to be identified!

I’m Nobody! Who are you? 





Emily Dickinson Emily Dickinson 



Related Links From The
Poetry-That-Doesn't-Suck Collection 


AESOP'S RHYMES - A collection of Aesop's Fables reworked into original rhyming verse.  

MORE AESOP'S RHYMES



SHORT SWEET LOVE POEMS Short, funny, and maybe even a little bit naughty, but sweet nonetheless.

VALENTINE POEMS Short verses that alternate between charming, funny, and downright absurd. Not exactly Emily Dickinson, but who is? 

FRIENDSHIP POEMS Poems about friendship that actually don't suck.

FUNNY POEMS Who doesn't enjoy a touch of humor here and there? And while you're at it, why not make it rhyme?

SPANISH POEM (with translation) A rhymed verse composed in Spanish, with an English translation. 



AQUARIUS POETRY  

ARIES POETRY 

CAPRICORN POETRY

GEMINI POETRY  

LIBRA POETRY 

PISCES POETRY 

VIRGO POETRY 



POETRY FROM EVERY STATE Poems about YOUR state! This collection captures the mood of geographically themed poetry. 





Top 20 Colleges For Poets  


  1. Brown University 
  2. Carnegie Mellon University 
  3. Central Michigan University
  4. Columbia University 
  5. Dartmouth College 
  6. Emory University
  7. George Mason University
  8. Georgia State University
  9. Harvard University
  10. Indiana University
  11. Johns Hopkins University
  12. Northwestern University
  13. Penn State University
  14. Pepperdine University
  15. University of Arizona
  16. University of Chicago 
  17. University of Massachusetts at Amherst 
  18. University of Southern California (USC) 
  19. Virginia Tech 
  20. Washington University St. Louis 




Top 25 Colleges For American Literature


  1. Boston University
  2. Bowdoin College
  3. Brown University
  4. Case Western Reserve
  5. Cornell University
  6. Dartmouth College
  7. Emory University
  8. Columbia University (Barnard College)
  9. Georgetown University
  10. Harvard University
  11. New York University (NYU)
  12. Northwestern University
  13. Princeton University
  14. Stanford University
  15. Swarthmore College
  16. UC Berkeley
  17. UCLA
  18. University of Chicago
  19. University of Georgia
  20. University of Illinois
  21. University of Michigan
  22. University of North Carolina
  23. University of Virginia
  24. University of Washington
  25. University of Wisconsin




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MASTERPIECE ALERT!

Look Here Right Now To See A Long Lost Portrait Of Emily Dickinson! 






Emily Dickinson