Sweet Immortality

I have been one with the legion of fans of Michael Jackson worldwide in celebrating the great artistry he has left behind. About a day or 2 ago, I met another world-renowned artist whose work has also left a great impact in the world of Art- Her name is EMILY DICKINSON.

Here are some of my favorite pieces among the hundreds of her collection of poetry:

1

I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us – don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know.

How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!

2

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again
I shall not live in vain

3

THE MYSTERY OF PAIN

Pain has an element of blank;
It cannot recollect
When it began, or if there were
A day when it was not.

It has no future but itself
Its infinite realms contain
Its past, enlightened to perceive
New periods of pain.

4

I had no time to hate, because
The grave would hinder me,
And life was not so ample
Could finish enmity.

Nor had I time to love; but since
Some industry must be,
The little toil of love, I thought,
Was large enough for me

5

This world is not conclusion;
A sequel stands beyond,
Invisible, as music,
But positive, as sound
It beckons and it baffles;
Philosophies don't know,
And through a riddle, at the last,
Sagacity must go.
To guess it puzzles scholars;
To gain it, men have shown
Contempt of generations,
And crucifixion known

6

LOVE

Love is anterior to life,
Posterior to death,
Initial of creation, and
The exponent of breath

7

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;
For love of her, sweet countrymen,
Judge tenderly of me!

EMILY DICKINSON lived from December 10, 1830 to May 15, 1886. All throughout her life, she never enjoyed the immortality of her name that it is today and forever. In 1862, she submitted her work for professional opinion to Thomas Wentworth Higginson, a well known man of letters and essayist at that time. Sadly, Higginson rejected her work. This is what was assumed to be the cause of her recluse state during her life. She continued writing poetry despite that without the pressures of publication. She was free to write with her own style.

She and her work remained obscure until she passed in 1886. After her death, her sister Lavinia discovered a box containing hundreds of her poetry. She took them and worked on having them published and they ended up, again, with Higginson. This time, he accepted it, touched some of its rhymes and meter and published it in 1890. It was a huge success. It prompted Higginson to work on a 2^nd publication which was released in 1891. A 3^rd one was again released in 1896. Dickinson is finally recognized as a poet of the highest degree up to this very day.

SOURCE: Collected Poems of Emily Dickinson, Published by Gramercy Books, New York / Avenel, New Jersey

To end this entry, I am including an 8^th piece of my favorites:

SUCCESS

Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne'er succeed
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.

Not one of all the purple host
Who took the flag to-day
Can tell the definition
So clear, of victory,

As he, defeated, dying
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Break, agonized and clear.

Not even death shall break down a successful artist. An artist should never falter in doing his/her work. Following Ms Emily Dickinson's trademark:

Artist, life may take a beating
You ought to know, never stop

The heart and the soul that bares itself
Shall be counted sweetest one day -
Maybe tomorrow, maybe next year
Or maybe never as you live

'Tis not important when success will be
Work, work, work
For life is what we toil for