The absence of the witch

Poststructural Pub
1

I have a new favorite poem. Of course it’s by Emily Dickinson.

Like, wow. That seriously speaks to my condition, and gives me spine tingles. I love Emily Dickinson.

2

Here’s its granddaughter, Season of the Witch:

From Sunshine Superman, one of the best albums of the 60’s.

3

Interesting number, 1383…


World Events

Senate Bill (It didn’t get passed)

Total (Solar) Eclipse

Portuguese Interregnum

and my very favourite:

Curse of the Pharaoh!


My Mum was a great fan of Emily Dickinson.

Any idea which 1383 she is referring to?

4

It’s the number of the poem. She didn’t title her poems, they all have number titles.

5

Oh, I see. So it’s “untitled”.


(I’ll stick with the Curse of the Pharaoh…)

6

To really appreciate it properly, you have to experience it the way Ms. Dickenson intended – sung to the tune of “The Yellow Rose of Texas.”

Long Years apart – can make no
Breach a second cannot fill –
The absence of the Witch does not
Invalidate the spell –

The embers of a Thousand Years
Uncovered by the Hand
That fondled them when they were Fire
Will stir and understand –

She’s the sweetest little rosebud
That Texas ever knew,
Her eyes are bright as diamonds
They sparkle like the dew
You may talk about dearest May
And sing of Rosa Lee
But the yellow Rose of Texas
Is the only girl for me.


I think it is actually called “Gan Ainm.” She wrote a lot of those.

7

(Mortified!!!)

8

Emily Dickenson, brilliant poet, certainly among my personal favorites.

I believe she wrote a ton of stuff without titles and after her death, a mess of poetry was discovered (title-free), and so to pulblish them catagorically, they numbered 'em.

Or so I have been led to believe.

9

I like poems without titles.

10

Sort of “title 'em yerself”.

11

I prefer titles without poems (if they don’t get too long).

djm

12

Hm. For some reason that reminds me of a poem by
Ambrose Bierce, from the Devil’s Dictionary…

  • In contact, lo! the flint and steel,
    By spark and flame, the thought reveal
    That he the metal, she the stone,
    Had cherished secretly alone.