tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029797379711350813.post2054434162512477719..comments2024-03-29T00:07:13.458-07:00Comments on the prowling Bee: She lay as if at playSusan Kornfeldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05384011972647144453noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029797379711350813.post-74669774126518907012023-08-08T09:44:07.687-07:002023-08-08T09:44:07.687-07:00Ah, my fave -- A poor - torn heart...Ah, my fave -- A poor - torn heart...Susan Kornfeldhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05384011972647144453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029797379711350813.post-37176660792046847842023-08-08T06:32:43.877-07:002023-08-08T06:32:43.877-07:00"The subject here is a young girl (I think th..."The subject here is a young girl (I think three or four earlier poems had a dead girl child in them, too)." SK<br /><br />Wanted, Dead or Alive, little girl poems (Pre-F412)<br />Here are 10 maybes:<br /><br />34.1858. Taken from men - this morning<br />43.1858. Through lane it lay<br />48.1859. Whose cheek is this<br />125.1859. A poor—torn heart—a tattered heart<br />154.1860. She died – this was the way she died<br />211.1861. I've heard an Organ talk, sometimes –<br />231.1861. We don't cry – Tim and I<br />344.1862. 'Twas just this time, last year, I died<br />394.1862. I cried at Pity—not at Pain—<br />412.1862. She lay as if at play<br /><br />Additionals?Larry Bhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02810899482852120751noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029797379711350813.post-9628418057963398992023-08-08T06:30:40.326-07:002023-08-08T06:30:40.326-07:00This comment has been removed by the author.Larry Bhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02810899482852120751noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029797379711350813.post-16825602954672942182023-08-07T14:47:26.686-07:002023-08-07T14:47:26.686-07:00"Dickinson takes a break here from the weight..."Dickinson takes a break here from the weighty topics of previous poems to return to the theme of what death looks like on the face of the recently deceased."<br /><br />Humor noir?Larry Bhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02810899482852120751noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029797379711350813.post-9752922489940892952023-06-04T12:56:27.368-07:002023-06-04T12:56:27.368-07:00I find this a chilling poem. The illusion of the d...I find this a chilling poem. The illusion of the dead eyes still sparkling through for fun --- at you. I can imagine the horror of it. <br /><br />I'm not sure what to make out of the last lines either. In my first reading though it was Her, the dead, who spent her "morning", or the first part of her life, devising how to force herself into a good sleep, or good death. This child, who still looks so alive in death is a reminder that we must best devise how to force (discipline) the way we live our lives toward a good and peaceful death. That's what we are to spend the morning of our life doing.<br /><br />On the other hand, any time Emily says "I am sure", I tend to want to read it as sarcastic. The child wasn't thinking about forcing death at all in the morning playtime before the door of death. She was just...playing. <br /><br />That reading is quite the opposite of forceful devising. It's not in discipline, but in playing that we enter into such a light and deep death. Maybe in the end it's both. I think of those children striving in the ring in "Because I could not stop for death". <br /><br />The second reading seems stronger though, the one emphasizing play. "She lay as if at play" It is as if Emily's eyes were the ones sparkling through from the other side for fun --- at US!<br /><br />As cold as this poem seems to be, at first, at the end we are left with what I would consider to be a good sleep, one that is paradoxically both light and deep. d scribehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08242682202760522439noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029797379711350813.post-64074216223095734182021-01-19T00:21:44.526-08:002021-01-19T00:21:44.526-08:00nice analysisnice analysisBismillah Marthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17816739215221069909noreply@blogger.com