69 min listen
It was not Death, The Truth's superb surprise
FromEdicts on E. Dicks- A podcast about the Apple TV+ show "Dickinson" and the poems of Emily Dickinson
It was not Death, The Truth's superb surprise
FromEdicts on E. Dicks- A podcast about the Apple TV+ show "Dickinson" and the poems of Emily Dickinson
ratings:
Length:
59 minutes
Released:
May 16, 2020
Format:
Podcast episode
Description
Hello everyone, thanks for listening. In todays episode of Dickinson Emily takes a sick day, and meets a Kindred spirit. Thanks to Alena Smith and everyone at Apple TV+ who produces the show for all us viewers. If you like listening to our discussion, or have some feedback please feel free to email us at edicksonedicts@gmail.com. We love to hear from you.
OG Emily Dickinson furnishes us with two fantastic poems today:
Tell all the truth but tell it slant —
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb surprise
As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind —
and:
It was not Death, for I stood up,
And all the Dead, lie down -
It was not Night, for all the Bells
Put out their Tongues, for Noon.
It was not Frost, for on my Flesh
I felt Siroccos - crawl -
Nor Fire - for just my marble feet
Could keep a Chancel, cool -
And yet, it tasted, like them all,
The Figures I have seen
Set orderly, for Burial
Reminded me, of mine -
As if my life were shaven,
And fitted to a frame,
And could not breathe without a key,
And ’twas like Midnight, some -
When everything that ticked - has stopped -
And space stares - all around -
Or Grisly frosts - first Autumn morns,
Repeal the Beating Ground -
But most, like Chaos - Stopless - cool -
Without a Chance, or spar -
Or even a Report of Land -
To justify - Despair.
OG Emily Dickinson furnishes us with two fantastic poems today:
Tell all the truth but tell it slant —
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb surprise
As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind —
and:
It was not Death, for I stood up,
And all the Dead, lie down -
It was not Night, for all the Bells
Put out their Tongues, for Noon.
It was not Frost, for on my Flesh
I felt Siroccos - crawl -
Nor Fire - for just my marble feet
Could keep a Chancel, cool -
And yet, it tasted, like them all,
The Figures I have seen
Set orderly, for Burial
Reminded me, of mine -
As if my life were shaven,
And fitted to a frame,
And could not breathe without a key,
And ’twas like Midnight, some -
When everything that ticked - has stopped -
And space stares - all around -
Or Grisly frosts - first Autumn morns,
Repeal the Beating Ground -
But most, like Chaos - Stopless - cool -
Without a Chance, or spar -
Or even a Report of Land -
To justify - Despair.
Released:
May 16, 2020
Format:
Podcast episode
Titles in the series (33)
Winter Afternoons – by Edicts on E. Dicks- A podcast about the Apple TV+ show "Dickinson" and the poems of Emily Dickinson