Death poems
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Death is potential to that Man
© Emily Dickinson
Death is potential to that Man
Who dies -- and to his friend --
Beyond that -- unconspicuous
To Anyone but God --
Death is like the insect
© Emily Dickinson
Death is like the insect
Menacing the tree,
Competent to kill it,
But decoyed may be.
Crisis is a Hair
© Emily Dickinson
Crisis is a Hair
Toward which the forces creep
Past which forces retrograde
If it come in sleep
Color -- Caste -- Denomination --
© Emily Dickinson
Color -- Caste -- Denomination --
These -- are Time's Affair --
Death's diviner Classifying
Does not know they are --
Bereavement in their death to feel
© Emily Dickinson
Bereavement in their death to feel
Whom We have never seen --
A Vital Kinsmanship import
Our Soul and theirs -- between --
Because that you are going
© Emily Dickinson
Because that you are going
And never coming back
And I, however absolute,
May overlook your Track --
As plan for Noon and plan for Night
© Emily Dickinson
As plan for Noon and plan for Night
So differ Life and Death
In positive Prospective --
The Foot upon the Earth
Absence disembodies -- so does Death
© Emily Dickinson
Absence disembodies -- so does Death
Hiding individuals from the Earth
Superposition helps, as well as love --
Tenderness decreases as we prove --
A Toad, can die of Light --
© Emily Dickinson
Life -- is a different Thing --
So measure Wine --
Naked of Flask -- Naked of Cask --
Bare Rhine --
Which Ruby's mine?
A throe upon the features
© Emily Dickinson
A throe upon the features --
A hurry in the breath --
An ecstasy of parting
Denominated "Death" --
A Dying Tiger -- moaned for Drink --
© Emily Dickinson
A Dying Tiger -- moaned for Drink --
I hunted all the Sand --
I caught the Dripping of a Rock
And bore it in my Hand --
A Death blow is a Life blow to Some
© Emily Dickinson
A Death blow is a Life blow to Some
Who till they died, did not alive become --
Who had they lived, had died but when
They died, Vitality begun.
'Twas awkward, but it fitted me --
© Emily Dickinson
'Twas awkward, but it fitted me --
An Ancient fashioned Heart --
Its only lore -- its Steadfastness --
In Change -- unerudite --
'Tis so appalling -- it exhilarates
© Emily Dickinson
'Tis so appalling -- it exhilarates --
So over Horror, it half Captivates --
The Soul stares after it, secure --
A Sepulchre, fears frost, no more --
Would you like summer? Taste of ours.
© Emily Dickinson
Would you like summer? Taste of ours.
Spices? Buy here!
Ill! We have berries, for the parching!
Weary! Furloughs of down!
This Chasm, Sweet, upon my life
© Emily Dickinson
This Chasm, Sweet, upon my life
I mention it to you,
When Sunrise through a fissure drop
The Day must follow too.
There is a finished feeling
© Emily Dickinson
There is a finished feeling
Experienced at Graves --
A leisure of the Future --
A Wilderness of Size.
The Whole of it came not at once --
© Emily Dickinson
The Whole of it came not at once --
'Twas Murder by degrees --
A Thrust -- and then for Life a chance --
The Bliss to cauterize --
Soul, take thy risk.
© Emily Dickinson
Soul, take thy risk.
With Death to be
Were better than be not
With thee
So I pull my Stockings off
© Emily Dickinson
So I pull my Stockings off
Wading in the Water
For the Disobedience' Sake
Boy that lived for "or'ter"
