Poetry Used in Time and Place in Literature

1. Emily Dickinson, F225

I’m “wife” – I’ve finished that –    (divorced? Because she said finished now?)

That other state –

I’m Czar – I’m “Woman” now –    (czar- Russian emperor)

It’s safer so –                                   (it’s better this way?)

How odd the Girl’s life looks

Behind this soft Eclipse –

I think that Earth feels so

To folks in Heaven – now –

This being comfort – then

That other kind – was pain –

But why compare?

I’m “Wife”! Stop there!

(1860)

Towards the end of her life, she was reclusive; She died alone in her house. Lived from 1830-1886. Wrote most of her poems in the 60s when the civil war was happening. Mary Lion told her that she was a “no-hoper” and she had no chance to  be a good Christian and she would never get to heaven. So, lots of her poems are a huge fight with God, trying to understand what happens after death.

2. Emily Dickinson, F 409

The Soul selects her own Society —

Then — shuts the Door —

To her divine Majority —                                                           (divine- like or of a God)

Present no more —

Unmoved — she notes the Chariots — pausing —    (unmoved- she is not affected by emotion)

At her low Gate —                                                                          (low gate- more personal)

Unmoved — an Emperor be kneeling

Upon her Mat —

I’ve known her — from an ample nation —                   (ample- enough or more than enough)

Choose One —                                                                                 (she has to choose whether or not to be beneath a man)

Then — close the Valves of her attention —                 (we associate valves with the heart, can’t be back)

Like Stone —                                                                                    (cold, hard, unforgiving like stone)

(1862)

I think that 2 most important lines are “Unmoved – she notes the Chariots – pausing - / At her low Gate – “. I believe that these are the two most important because it’s telling the readers about the main idea. I feel like this has to do with men and how they treat women. I feel like this has to do with men believing that they have the righto do with women whatever they’d like. But in her head, she believes that women are superior, and the chariots are (should be?) requesting her to open her gates to them.

-Authoritarian tone (Present no more) woman taking control

-going against the majority, she writes of “emperors” stopping at HER gate, even though women don’t have as many rights at this time.

-Whatever we decide, we have to deal with the consequences that follow)

3. Emily Dickinson, F620

Much Madness is divinest Sense –                (madness- “I’m going to challenge society) (divine- as or from God)
To a discerning Eye –                                      (discerning- the ability to understand complex ideas)
Much Sense – the starkest Madness –           (stark – sever or bare in appearance or outline)
‘Tis the Majority                                           
In this, as all, prevail –                                   (prevail- to be victorious in the end, you have outlasted everyone)
Assent, and you are sane  –                           (assent- the expression of approval or agreement)
Demur – you’re straightway dangerous –     (demur- dwell, linger, show reluctance.)
And handled with a Chain.

(1863)

-enjambment occurs when there’s no punctuation at the end of a line, so you continue to read to the next line.

-Denotation- dictionary definition.

-Connotation- the definition we get from context.

-Line 1-2: A discerning eye is able to see that madness is better than following the norm.

-Line 3-4: She contradicts herself and says that the majority that is “sensible” is actually mad.

   Also, the verb “is” is omitted to show madness.

-Line 4-5: The people who are not mad are the people that prevail in the end.

-Line 6: If you agree with the majority, you are “sane” and you are going nowhere.

-Line 7-8: If you resist from following the majority, then the majority will “handle you with a

   chain”; you will lose your freedom, and you will be considered dangerous.

4. Robert Frost, “The Road Not Taken”

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,                (roads- more structure. yellow- foliage. connotation of fall: change)

And sorry I could not travel both                           (he can’t choose both, he has to choose one)

And be one traveler, long I stood                          (if he comes back to go down the other, he won’t be the same person)

And looked down one as far as I could                (he’s looking so deep into each option)

To where it bent in the undergrowth;                  (when the road bens, he can’t see what comes after)

Then took the other, as just as fair,                       (it’s the same road)

And having perhaps the better claim,                  (in reality they look very similar, but he can’t decide which to do)

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;          (in his head, he’s trying to make a decision and justify/rationalize it)

Though as for that the passing there (he’s trying to convince himself that he’s making the right decision)

Had worn them really about the same,              

And both that morning equally lay                       (both roads looked the same)

In leaves no step had trodden black. (neither road is more used)

Oh, I kept the first for another day!                      (trying to rationalize that he’ll take one and take the other another day)

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,              (one fork will eventually lead to another fork)

I doubted if I should ever come back.                 (his mind is going back and forth)

I shall be telling this with a sigh                              (could be sighing from relief of making the decision)

Somewhere ages and ages hence:                      (somewhere- future/wherever he ends up)

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—               (dropped the yellow adjective)

I took the one less traveled by,                              (lying, the roads were the same)

And that has made all the difference.                 (there’s no way to know the difference)

(1915)

-any path is valid

-spring:

-summer: everything is wonderful

-fall: change leading to death

-winter: death

-the roads are sturdy and have an endpoint, not like a path where you’re making your own way

5. Edna St. Vincent Millay, “[I shall forget you presently]”

I shall forget you presently, my dear,                                    (indifferent but with love)

So make the most of this, your little day,

Your little month, your little half a year,

Ere I forget, or die, or move away,

And we are done forever; by and by

I shall forget you, as I said, but now,

If you entreat me with your loveliest lie

I will protest you with my favorite vow.

I would indeed that love were longer-lived,

And vows were not so brittle as they are,

But so it is, and nature has contrived

To struggle on without a break thus far,

Whether or not we find what we are seeking

Is idle, biologically speaking.                                                    (this line is supposed to catch us off guard)

                          

(1922)

6. Frank Bidart, “Queer”

Lie to yourself about this and you will                    (italics.

forever lie about everything.

Everybody already knows everything

so you can

lie to them. That’s what they want.

But lie to yourself, what you will

lose is yourself. Then you                                                              (authenticity.)

turn into them.

                 *

For each gay kid whose adolescence

was America in the forties or fifties

the primary, the crucial

scenario

forever is coming out—

or not. Or not. Or not. Or not. Or not.

                 *

Involuted velleities of self-erasure.

                 *

Quickly after my parents

died, I came out. Foundational narrative

designed to confer existence.

If I had managed to come out to my

mother, she would have blamed not

me, but herself.

The door through which you were shoved out                        (italics.

into the light

was self-loathing and terror.                                                       (italics.

                 *

Thank you, terror!

You learned early that adults’ genteel

fantasies about human life

were not, for you, life.  You think sex

is a knife

driven into you to teach you that.

(1939)

7. Gwendolyn Brooks, “A Song in the Front Yard”

I’ve stayed in the front yard all my life.
I want a peek at the back
Where it’s rough and untended and hungry weed grows.
A girl gets sick of a rose.

I want to go in the back yard now
And maybe down the alley,
To where the charity children play.
I want a good time today.

They do some wonderful things.
They have some wonderful fun.
My mother sneers, but I say it’s fine
How they don’t have to go in at quarter to nine.
My mother, she tells me that Johnnie Mae
Will grow up to be a bad woman.
That George’ll be taken to Jail soon or late
(On account of last winter he sold our back gate).

But I say it’s fine. Honest, I do.
And I’d like to be a bad woman, too,
And wear the brave stockings of night-black lace
And strut down the streets with paint on my face.

(1963)

8. Marge Piercy, “Barbie Doll”

This girlchild was born as usual
and presented dolls that did pee-pee
and miniature GE stoves and irons
and wee lipsticks the color of cherry candy.
Then in the magic of puberty, a classmate said:
You have a great big nose and fat legs.

She was healthy, tested intelligent,
possessed strong arms and back,
abundant sexual drive and manual dexterity.
She went to and fro apologizing.
Everyone saw a fat nose on thick legs.

She was advised to play coy,
exhorted to come on hearty,
exercise, diet, smile and wheedle.
Her good nature wore out
like a fan belt.
So she cut off her nose and her legs
and offered them up.

In the casket displayed on satin she lay
with the undertaker's cosmetics painted on,
a turned-up putty nose,
dressed in a pink and white nightie.
Doesn't she look pretty? everyone said.
Consummation at last.
To every woman a happy ending. 

(1973)

9. Eavan Boland, “The Necessity for Irony”

On Sundays,
when the rain held off,
after lunch or later,
I would go with my twelve year old
daughter into town,
and put down the time
at junk sales, antique fairs.

There I would
lean over tables,
absorbed by
lace, wooden frames,
glass. My daughter stood
at the other end of the room,
her flame-coloured hair
obvious whenever—
which was not often—

I turned around.
I turned around.
She was gone.
Grown. No longer ready
to come with me, whenever
a dry Sunday
held out its promises
of small histories. Endings.

When I was young
I studied styles: their use
and origin. Which age
was known for which
ornament: and was always drawn
to a lyric speech, a civil tone.
But never thought
I would have the need,
as I do now, for a darker one:

Spirit of irony,
my caustic author
of the past, of memory,—

and of its pain, which returns
hurts, stings—reproach me now,
remind me
that I was in those rooms,
with my child,
with my back turned to her,
searching—oh irony!—
for beautiful things.

(1998)

10. Natasha Trethewey, “White Lies”

The lies I could tell, 

when I was growing up 

light-bright, near-white, 

high-yellow, red-boned 

in a black place, 

were just white lies.

I could easily tell the white folks 

that we lived uptown, 

not in that pink and green 

shanty-fled shotgun section 

along the tracks. I could act 

like my homemade dresses 

came straight out the window 

of Maison Blanche. I could even 

keep quiet, quiet as kept,

like the time a white girl said

(squeezing my hand), Now 

we have three of us in this class.

But I paid for it every time

Mama found out.

She laid her hands on me,

then washed out my mouth

with Ivory soap. This

is to purify, she said,

and cleanse your lying tongue.

Believing her, I swallowed suds

thinking they'd work

from the inside out.

(2013)