Success in Circuit lies

Too bright for our infirm Delight

The Truth's superb surprise

As Lightning to the Children eased

With explanation kind

The Truth must dazzle gradually

Or every man be blind —

***
When I first saw 'Dickinson' on Apple TV, I couldn't agree more with her poem because this poem teaching us must tell the truth but must tell it indirectly. Like telling the story about the lightning in the straight way, It can scared to young children.

It has a song—

It has a sting—

Ah, too, it has a wing.

***
I would ask one question to Emily Dickinson if she alived "Why did Emily Dickinson choose the “bee” instead of any other insects? and I think this poem is not hard to understand the meaning.

Were I with thee

Wild nights should be

Our luxury!

Futile - the winds -

To a Heart in port -

Done with the Compass -

Done with the Chart!

Rowing in Eden -

Ah - the Sea!

Might I but moor - tonight -

In thee!

***
This poem have many possible different interpretations but for me I think this is about two lovers desire to be together but that they are meant to be together and talking about sexual way. It feels right to me to interpret in this way. 

Any more, black shoe

In which I have lived like a foot   

For thirty years, poor and white,   

Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.

Daddy, I have had to kill you.   

You died before I had time——

Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,   

Ghastly statue with one gray toe   

Big as a Frisco seal

And a head in the freakish Atlantic   

Where it pours bean green over blue   

In the waters off beautiful Nauset.   

I used to pray to recover you.

Ach, du.

In the German tongue, in the Polish town   

Scraped flat by the roller

Of wars, wars, wars.

But the name of the town is common.   

My 🤬 friend

Says there are a dozen or two.   

So I never could tell where you   

Put your foot, your root,

I never could talk to you.

The tongue stuck in my jaw.

It stuck in a barb wire snare.   

Ich, ich, ich, ich,

I could hardly speak.

I thought every German was you.   

And the language obscene

An engine, an engine

Chuffing me off like a Jew.

A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.   

I began to talk like a Jew.

I think I may well be a Jew.

The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna   

Are not very pure or true.

With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck   

And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack

I may be a bit of a Jew.

I have always been scared of you,

With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.   

And your neat mustache

And your Aryan eye, bright blue.

Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You——

Not God but a swastika

So black no sky could squeak through.   

Every woman adores a Fascist,   

The boot in the face, the brute   

Brute heart of a brute like you.

You stand at the blackboard, daddy,   

In the picture I have of you,

A cleft in your chin instead of your foot   

But no less a devil for that, no not   

Any less the black man who

Bit my pretty red heart in two.

I was ten when they buried you.   

At twenty I tried to die

And get back, back, back to you.

I thought even the bones would do.

But they pulled me out of the sack,   

And they stuck me together with glue.   

And then I knew what to do.

I made a model of you,

A man in black with a Meinkampf look

And a love of the rack and the screw.   

And I said I do, I do.

So daddy, I’m finally through.

The black telephone’s off at the root,   

The voices just can’t worm through.

If I’ve killed one man, I’ve killed two——

The vampire who said he was you   

And drank my blood for a year,

Seven years, if you want to know.

Daddy, you can lie back now.

There’s a stake in your fat black heart   

And the villagers never liked you.

They are dancing and stamping on you.   

They always knew it was you.

Daddy, daddy, you 🤬, I’m through.

***
I found this video by chance. It's a very long one but I felt like I can completely connect to her message and her emotion through her voice. This one is so powerful and meaningful. 

The Stillness in the Room

Was like the Stillness in the Air -

Between the Heaves of Storm -

The Eyes around - had wrung them dry -

And Breaths were gathering firm

For that last Onset - when the King

Be witnessed - in the Room -

I willed my Keepsakes - Signed away

What portion of me be

Assignable - and then it was

There interposed a Fly -

With Blue - uncertain - stumbling Buzz -

Between the light - and me -

And then the Windows failed - and then

I could not see to see -

***
This is one of my favorite poems by Emily Dickinson I like it a lot because Emily obviously showed the set of upcoming death event and the sound "BUZZ" still in my head while I was reading.

Upon a shifting plate

Whose table once a

Guest but not

The second time is set

Whose crumbs the crows inspect

And with ironic caw

Flap past it to the

Farmer’s corn

Men eat of it and die

***
In my opinion, when we finished eating burger in the morning we changed a menu into spaghetti in the afternoon just like fame is unstable.

And Mourners to and fro

Kept treading - treading - till it seemed

That Sense was breaking through -

And when they all were seated,

A Service, like a Drum -

Kept beating - beating - till I thought

My mind was going numb -

And then I heard them lift a Box

And creak across my Soul

With those same Boots of Lead, again,

Then Space - began to toll,

As all the Heavens were a Bell,

And Being, but an Ear,

And I, and Silence, some strange Race,

Wrecked, solitary, here -

And then a Plank in Reason, broke,

And I dropped down, and down -

And hit a World, at every plunge,

And Finished knowing - then -

***
From the topic word choice in class, I have noticed that the connotation of funeral is "Death" because this poem intensifies and impact the emotional to the reader very well.

We slowly drove—He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility—

We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess—in the Ring—
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain—
We passed the Setting Sun—

Or rather—He passed us—
The Dews drew quivering and chill—
For only Gossamer, my Gown—
My Tippet—only Tulle—

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground—
The Roof was scarcely visible—
The Cornice—in the Ground—

Since then—’tis Centuries—and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses’ Heads
Were toward Eternity—

***
From Emily's life work, Her style is full of dashes between and at the end of lines.
Emily Dickinson wrote several poems about death, she takes the reader on a mysterious journey through time and into a world that beyond time.

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

***
This poem is so hopeful whenever you read it you can feel like you can fly to catch your dream.

I’m dressed up like Dracula. Man, I look cool!

I dyed my hair black, and I cut off my bangs.

I’m wearing a cape and some fake plastic fangs.

I put on some makeup to paint my face white,

like creatures that only come out in the night.

My fingernails, too, are all pointed and red.

I look like I’m recently back from the dead.

My mom drops me off, and I run into school

and suddenly feel like the world’s biggest fool.

The other kids stare like I’m some kind of freak—

the Halloween party is not till next week.

***
Hello, October! pls be kind to my teacher, my friends and I. The way of persona in this poem reminds me of my younger sister. She loves Halloween festival.

The Color, on the cruising cloud –
The interdicted Land –
Behind the Hill – the House
behind –
There – Paradise – is found!

Her teazing Purples – Afternoons –
The credulous – decoy –
Enamored – of the Conjuror –
That spurned us – Yesterday!

***
She wants to go to paradise but she's just longing. Sometimes, in our lives there might not be end up with success. It can be bad result but it's life. Keep going!

Bewildered by that wonder,
The grasses tremble under
The thing they do not know.
I tremble even so.

***
I have watched "Notting hill" then this scene comes up, so I have to find a poem like the first kiss in winter and this is what I've been looking for. Cold hand warm heart.💖

Coral is far more red than her lips' red;

If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;

If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

I have seen roses damasked, red and white,

But no such roses see I in her cheeks;

And in some perfumes is there more delight

Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know

That music hath a far more pleasing sound;

I grant I never saw a goddess go;

My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.

   And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare

   As any she belied with false compare.

***
Today girls are concerning with how beauty they are and they have created the standard of beauty by judge the other people who isn't have the face like actress, Kpop idol or model. I think everybody has the beauty by themselves don't think too much about beauty standard Just confident! there are so many people that love us such as William Shakespeare. He didn't judge the women by the beauty, he love how she is.