I, Emily Dickinson & Other Found Poems
J.R. Solonche
d e e r b ro o k e d itio ns
pu b l ish ed by Deerbrook Editions P.O. Box 542 Cumberland, ME 04021 www.deerbrookeditions.com issuu.com/deerbrookeditions
first e d iti on Š 2 018 by J.R. Solonche All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-0-9991062-3-5 Bookdesign, cover art, and cover design by Jeffrey Haste. Author photo by Emily Solonche.
Contents
I, Emily Dickinson 7 The Ballad of the Redundant Churches of England 16 Poem Written by the Wind and My Dictionary under the Open Window 19 The Nightingale 20 The News 21 Now We Know 22 Perfume Poem 23 Body Boxes 24 In the Stall 25 Classified 26 Elove Poem to Maria from Mark 27 Four Trees 28 Dead Pianos 30 The 45 Dwarfs Disney Rejected 31 A Nice Place to Visit 32 May the Punishment Fit the Crime 33 Humiliation 34 The Secret Life of Daniel Craig, Poet 36 Buddhist Bulls Eye 37 All the News Fit to Print 38 I Stand Corrected 39 The Wisdom of the East 40 So That’s the Difference 41 Stalling on Railroad Tracks 42 Feathers 43 Lost in Translation 44 Sound of the Mourning Dove 45 Bad Fortune 46 Jersey Shore 47 Words of Wisdom 48 Nothing Will Come of Nothing 49
Haiku with Silent Syllable 50 The Wisdom of Words 51 Intelligence Test 52 Koan 53 Nulla, Cosa Nulla 54 Kumquats 55 Higher Learning 56 What’s the Good Word? 57 Iraq 58 Non-Fiction 59 Two Howtu Haiku 60 The News 61 The Ballad of Beer 63 For Your Reference 70
I, Emily Dickinson & Other Found Poems
I, Emily Dickinson
#1 I am afraid to own a body I am alive I guess I am ashamed, I hide I asked no other thing I bet with every wind that blew I breathed enough to take the trick I bring an unaccustomed wine I came to buy a smile today I can wade grief I cannot be ashamed I cannot buy it, ‘tis not sold I cannot dance upon my toes I cannot live with you I cannot meet the spring unmoved I cannot see my soul but know ‘tis there I cannot want it more
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#2 I can’t tell you but you feel it I cautious scanned my little life I could bring you jewels had I a mind to I could die to know I could not drink it, sweet I could not prove the years had feet I could suffice for him, I knew I counted till they danced so I cried at pity, not at pain I cross till I am weary I did not reach thee I died for beauty, but was scarce I dreaded that first robin so I dwell in possibility I envy seas whereon he rides I fear a man of frugal speech
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#3 I felt a cleaving in my mind I felt a funeral in my brain I felt my life with both my hands I fit for them I found the words to every thought I gained it so I gave myself to him I got so I could take his name I groped for him before I knew I had a daily bliss I had a guinea gold I had been hungry all the years I had no cause to be awake I had no time to hate I had not minded walls I had some things that I called mine
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#4 I had the glory – that will do I have a bird in spring I have a king who does not speak I have never seen “Volcanoes” I have no like but this I haven’t told my garden yet I heard a fly buzz when I died I heard as if I had no ear I held a jewel in my fingers I hide myself within my flower I keep my pledge I knew that I had gained I know a place where summer strives I know lives, I could miss I know of people in the grave I know some lonely houses off the road
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#5 I know suspense – it steps so terse I know that he exists I know where wells grow, droughtless wells I learned at least what home could be I like a look of agony I like to see it lap the miles I live with him, I see his face I lived on dread I lost the world the other day I made slow riches but my gain I make his crescent fill or lack I many times thought peace had come I meant to find her when I came I meant to have but modest needs I measure every grief I meet I met a king this afternoon
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#6 I never felt at home below I never hear that one is dead I never hear the word “escape� I never lost as much but twice I never saw a moor I never told the buried gold I noticed people disappeared I often passed the village I pay in satin cash I play at riches to appease I prayed at first a little girl I read my sentence steadily I reason earth is short I reckon when I count at all I robbed the woods I rose because he sank
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#7 I saw no way – the heavens were stitched I saw that the flake was on it I saw the wind within her I see thee better in the dark I see thee clearer for the grave I send two sunsets I send you a decrepit flower I shall keep singing I shall know why, when time is over I shall not murmur if at last I should have been too glad, I see I should not dare to be so sad I should not dare to leave my friend I showed her heights she never saw I sing to use the waiting I sometimes drop it, for a quick
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#8 I started early, took my dog I stepped from plank to plank I stole them from a bee I sued the news, yet feared the news I suppose the time will come I taste a liquor never brewed I tend my flowers for thee I think I was enchanted I think just how my shape will rise I think that the root of the wind is water I think the hemlock likes to stand I think the longest hour of all I think to live may be a bliss I thought that nature was enough I thought the train would never come I tie my hat, I crease my shawl
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#9 I took my power in my hand I took one draught of life I tried to think a lonelier thing “I want” – it pleaded all its life I was a phoebe, nothing more I was the slightest in the house I watched her face to see which way I watched the moon around the house I went to heaven I went to thank her I worked for chaff and earning wheat I would distil a cup I would not paint a picture I years had been from home
(From the index of The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, Edited by Thomas H. Johnson, Little, Brown and Company, 1960)
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Ballad of the Redundant Churches of England
Brockley, St Nicholas. Farndish, St. Michael. Litte Barford, St Denys. Lower Gravenhurst, St Mary. Pottesgrove, St Mary. Lambourn Woodlands, St Mary. Lower Basildon, St Bartholomew. Edlesborough, St Mary. Parson Drove, St John the Baptist. Broughham, St Ninian. Offord D'Arcy, St Peter. Fleet Marston, St Mary. Steeple Gidding, St Andrew. Swaffham Prior, St Cyriac & St Julitta. St Anthony-in-Roseland, St Anthony. Pistone, St Mary. Vale of Lune, St Gregory. Parracombe, St Petrock. Revelstoke, St Peter the Poor Fisherman. Tarrant Crawford, St Mary the Virgin. Winterborne Came, St Peter. Winterborne Tomson, St Andrew. Hove, St Andrew. Chickney, St Mary.
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Hartley Wintney, St Mary. Itchen Stoke, St Mary. Theddlethorpe, All Saints. Yazor, St Mary the Virgin. Old Langho, St Leonard. Barnetby-le-Wold, St Mary. Capel-le-Ferne, St Mary. Wormesley, St Mary. Clixby, All Hallows. Great Steeping, All Saints Old Church. Normanby by Spital, St Peter. Sandwich, St Mary. Little Witchingham, St Faith. Norwich, St John Maddermarket. Shimpling, St George. Barton Bendish, St Mary. Birdforth, St Mary. South Cowton, St Mary. Blatherwycke, Holy Trinity. Stainburn, St Mary. Markham Clinton, Milton Mausoleum. Chiselhampton, St Katherine. Preston Gubbals, St Martin. Newnham Murren, St Mary.
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Upton Cressett, St Michael. Hardington Bampfylde, St Mary. Stocklynch Ottersey, St Mary. Patshull, St Mary. Kirk Sandall, St Oswal. Akenham, St Mary. Badley, St Mary. Bungay, St Mary. Church Norton, St Wilfred. Ipswich, St Mary Quay. Rickinghall Superior, St Mary. Stonham Parva, St Mary the Virgin. Low Elswick, St Stephen. Avon Dassett, St John the Baptist. Brownsover, St Michael & All Angels. Chilton, St Mary. Berwick Bassett, St Nicholas. Chute Forest, St Mary. Fisherton Delamere, St Nicholas. Maddington, St Mary. Sutton Veny, St Leonard Old Church. South Tidworth, St Mary. Stratford Tony, St Mary & St Lawrence. Old Dilton, St Mary.
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(From a United Kingdom government pamphlet, date unknown)
Poem Written by the Wind and My Dictionary under the Open Window omen omentum omer omicron ominous omissible omission ommissive omit ommatidium ommatophore ommiad omnibus omnifarious omnificent omnipotence omnipresent omniscient omnium gatherum omnivore omphacite omphalos
(From The Random House College Dictionary, Revised Ed. 1975) 19
The Nightingale
The color paintings were prepared on fine, brilliant Wu silk, which were closely and wonderfully woven. Traditional Chinese paints were used. The blues and greens came from azurite, malachite, and indigo; the reds from cinnabar, realgar, and orpiment, with the brilliant red from coral and the pink-red from a flowering vine; umber from an iron oxide called limonite; yellow from the sap of the rattan plant; and white from lead or pulverized oyster shells. To all, powdered jade was added for good fortune. These colors were mixed with stag horn, fish or ox glue, or glue made from the pulp of the soap bean. The black Chinese ink is ten parts pine soot, three parts powdered jade, and one part glue made from donkey hides boiled in Tang River water. The paints were mixed with boiling water. In the first stage, the water looked like fish eyes; in the second, like innumerable pearls strung together; and in the final stage, like rolling breakers. The paints were applied with Chinese brushes made of sheep, rabbit, goat, weasel, and wolf hairs picked in autumn, as well as of mouse whiskers, with handles of bamboo and buffalo horn. Where changes were required in the art, the paint was removed by wiping the area with the juice of the apricot seed.
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(From the Illustration Notes, The Nightingale by Demi, Harcourt Brace Javanovich, 1985)
The News
Television news annoys me because it invades people’s privates.
(From a student essay, SUNY Orange, date unknown) 21
