Knows how to forget (433) (Emily Dickinson)

This poem, by Emily Dickinson, was listed as a graduation poem on poets.org. I was looking for a grad poem, since today I went to the UC Davis School of Medicine graduation. (Congrats, guys!).

I don't think this is the best sentiment for a graduation poem. It seems to say that forgetting is best and that you don't seem to learn that in school. In fact, the one thing to learn is to forget, but she's not sure how that can be done. Not in school, or from astronomers or philosophers or even from books. Perhaps, God or a Godly person might know, but even there she is uncertain, ending the poem with a question to the rabbi: "Don't you know?"

Not my favorite poem, but I don't really like many of her poems, so this may be my own short-sightedness.

Favorite line: "Sacrificed for Science"

Sacrificed for Science

We never know how high we are (Emily Dickinson)

Har, har. Today's poem, on 4/20, is Emily Dickinson's 'We never know how high we are'.

I know most people really like Emily Dickinson, but she's never been a favorite for me. Same for this poem - it's fine, but I don't really like it all that much. I like the sentiment in the poem of not knowing how high one is - how much one has achieved - until one is called upon to act. But, while that's nice, this poem didn't really do it for me.

Favorite line: "We never know how high we are / Till we are called to rise"

We never know how high we are Till we are called to rise; - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/19370#sthash.M5G8831z.dpuf

The Savoir must have been a docile Gentleman (Emily Dickinson)

I put up my tree tonight (all 1 1/2 feet of it), so I figured that tonight must be a Christmas poem. Who knew that Emily Dickinson wrote seasonal poems? Maybe everyone. I don't know. She's just not my style, so this, lesser known one from her, is a new one to me.

It's short (which I love). It's only eight lines long. It talks about Jesus being born and being "docile" to be born down a rugged lane when it's so cold and so far. But for his birth, the way would have always been so rugged, cold, and lengthy.

I wonder why he is described as being docile. Maybe because why on earth would anyone choose to be born there (down a path a billion rugged miles long)? But no child chooses where to be born. All babies can be (and should be) described as docile. Perhaps, Emily Dickinson reflects the general consensus on his later life. After all, 'gentleman' doesn't refer to a child, but to an adult.

Favorite line: "To come so far so cold a Day"

I'm Nobody. Who are you. (Emily Dickinson)

I adore this poem by Emily Dickinson. It's such a witticism. I bet she wrote it in one go when she was feeling light. A happy poem from Emily? It be true.

The rhyme makes it light. As do the generic names for the two types of people in the world. For that matter, so does the exclamation point.

However, the lightness is belied by what must be a rather lonesome life-where for the first time, N has met a friend. The lightness takes on the ring of someone trying to rationalize the way their life is and that it is better, really, just find and dandy. Uh huh. *Nods*

Though, I am not sure I believe N. Too much pep in those words.

Favorite line: "I'm Nobody! Who are you?/Are you – Nobody – too?"

Because I could not stop for death (Emily Dickinson)

Because I could not stop for death by Emily Dickinson.

I like how calmly N says "he kindly stopped for me." Death practically provides a favor for N. Death is definitely written as gentlemanly. "his civility"

Death takes N through life. Childhood, adulthood, old age.

What I think is neat is how the last stanza is different than the rest. The whole poem through tends to use concrete nouns and images. 'school' 'grazing grain' 'carriage' However, in the last stanza, she switches to using words that don't mean much in actuality, but rather, they create a rounded image. You get what is being said, though it is not so direct as, say, in stanza three.

Favorite line: "Because I could not stop for Death,/He kindly stopped for me"

Fame is a bee (Emily Dickinson)

As much as I have read and loved poetry I have never really gotten into Emily Dickinson. I need a class full of people exclaiming over her. I mean, I think she's fine, but I don't get her genius. This poem, however, is fine, true, but it's also short and to the point and thus biting and acidic.

I like poems that fill a void in English and clearly give definition to a word, a feeling, or an experience. This poem manages to do all three, I think. This poem also mimics fame (the fame it gave to Dickinson?) in that it also has "song" and it's barbed and sharp and therefore has "sting," and since it is so tiny it, too, has "wing."

Favorite line: "Ah, too, it has wing."