Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Emily Dickinson: The Soul selects her own Society

The Soul selects her own Society —
Then — shuts the Door —

October 23, 2020 · 1 Comment

Sandy Solomon: Ghazal

A night of ghazals comes to an end to fill with birds.
As the sky blues, their calls braid in New Jersey.

September 21, 2020 · 1 Comment

Matthew Redmond: Emily Dickinson is the unlikely hero of our time

As the world continues to endure the ravages of COVID-19, another ghost of Dickinson steps into view.

August 28, 2020 · Leave a comment

Emily Dickinson: She dealt her pretty words like Blades

She dealt her pretty words like Blades–
How glittering they shone—
And every One unbared a Nerve
Or wantoned with a Bone—

August 28, 2020 · Leave a comment

Emily Dickinson: For each ecstatic instant

For each ecstatic instant
We must an anguish pay

August 21, 2020 · 7 Comments

Robert Wrigley: The Consciousness of Everything

That time’s lost now, when a stone could hurt,
when a feather missed its wing,
when sky kissed clouds and grass kissed dirt
and nothing thought itself just a thing.

May 26, 2020 · 2 Comments

Emily Dickinson: Grief is a Mouse

Grief is a Thief—quick startled—
Pricks His Ear—report to hear
Of that Vast Dark—
That swept His Being—back—

May 15, 2020 · 1 Comment

Emily Dickinson: Wild nights — Wild nights!

Wild nights – Wild nights!
Were I with thee
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!

May 8, 2020 · Leave a comment

Emily Dickinson: We grow accustomed to the Dark

We grow accustomed to the Dark –
When light is put away –
As when the Neighbor holds the Lamp
To witness her Goodbye

June 7, 2019 · 2 Comments

Emily Dickinson: The Loneliness One dare not sound

The Loneliness One dare not sound—And would as soon surmiseAs in its Grave go plumbingTo ascertain the size— The Loneliness whose worst alarmIs lest itself should see—And perish from before … Continue reading

March 22, 2019 · Leave a comment

Emily Dickinson: After great pain, a formal feeling comes

After great pain, a formal feeling comes – The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs – The stiff Heart questions ‘was it He, that bore,’ And ‘Yesterday, or Centuries before’? The … Continue reading

December 14, 2018 · Leave a comment

Emily Dickinson: As Imperceptively as Grief

As imperceptibly as Grief The Summer lapsed away – Too imperceptible at last To seem like Perfidy – A Quietness distilled As Twilight long begun, Or Nature spending with herself … Continue reading

September 14, 2018 · 1 Comment

Paul Christensen: The Arrival of Spring

The crocus came up two days ago. I wondered how long it might take to get some sign that spring was on the way. There they are, tough little flowers … Continue reading

April 3, 2018 · 3 Comments

Emily Dickinson: This is my letter to the world

This is my letter to the World That never wrote to Me— The simple News that Nature told— With tender Majesty Her Message is committed To Hands I cannot see— … Continue reading

March 23, 2018 · 1 Comment

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