Emily Dickenson

On the bleakness of my lot
Bloom I strove to raise.
Late, my acre of a rock
Yielded grape and maize.

Soil of flint if steadfast tilled
Will reward the hand;
Seed of palm of Lybian sun
Fructified in sand.

I saw a movie about Emily Dickenson. It was pretty good. I tried reading some of her poetry after the movie. Nope. Me and Emily are incommunicado. I remember in high school having to read poetry and interpret it. I did my best, but I can still sense my teacher reading my insights and simply shaking her head.

It's no different now. Emily, who most kindly could be called plain, had a rough life. I had heard that before, and the movie made that quite clear. I appreciate that others really like her, but I'm afraid I just don't get it. "Bloom I strive to raise"??? You lose me, Emily. And I can see that your seed of palm of the sun in Lybia has been fructified. But I don't know if that is a good or bad thing. I don't know about the poem as a whole. Emily, are you happy or sad?

I will say this for you, Emily. Your words rhyme. Oh, I know what they say. Poetry doesn't have to rhyme. Well, yes it does. In fact, that is what makes for a good poem - clever rhyming. The Beatles, for example. Why were they a great group? Because of lines like:

I don't want to sound complainin'
But you know there's always rain in my heart.

That is gold. Plus, I feel sad. And that is they emotion they were going for. I'm not quite sure how to feel about Emily's palm being fructified.

Just to sum up, in the words of Emily Dickenson:

Is bliss, then, such abyss
I must not put my foot amiss
For fear I spoil my shoe

How true that is.