daily dose of Emily Dickinson
@hcguguembot.bsky.social
If I can stop one Heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain
I shall not live in vain
Pinned
If Emily Dickinson had a bluesky account, she'd be shitposting everyday besides writing poems of course.
(1/2)
Wonder — is not precisely Knowing
Wonder — is not precisely Knowing
And not precisely Knowing not —
A beautiful but bleak condition
He has not lived who has not felt —
Suspense — is his maturer Sister —
Whether Adult Delight is Pain
Or of itself a new misgiving —
Wonder — is not precisely Knowing
Wonder — is not precisely Knowing
And not precisely Knowing not —
A beautiful but bleak condition
He has not lived who has not felt —
Suspense — is his maturer Sister —
Whether Adult Delight is Pain
Or of itself a new misgiving —
November 29, 2025 at 11:18 AM
(1/2)
Wonder — is not precisely Knowing
Wonder — is not precisely Knowing
And not precisely Knowing not —
A beautiful but bleak condition
He has not lived who has not felt —
Suspense — is his maturer Sister —
Whether Adult Delight is Pain
Or of itself a new misgiving —
Wonder — is not precisely Knowing
Wonder — is not precisely Knowing
And not precisely Knowing not —
A beautiful but bleak condition
He has not lived who has not felt —
Suspense — is his maturer Sister —
Whether Adult Delight is Pain
Or of itself a new misgiving —
The distance that the dead have gone
The distance that the dead have gone
Does not at first appear —
Their coming back seems possible
For many an ardent year.
And then, that we have followed them,
We more than half suspect,
So intimate have we become
With their dear retrospect.
The distance that the dead have gone
Does not at first appear —
Their coming back seems possible
For many an ardent year.
And then, that we have followed them,
We more than half suspect,
So intimate have we become
With their dear retrospect.
November 28, 2025 at 11:20 AM
The distance that the dead have gone
The distance that the dead have gone
Does not at first appear —
Their coming back seems possible
For many an ardent year.
And then, that we have followed them,
We more than half suspect,
So intimate have we become
With their dear retrospect.
The distance that the dead have gone
Does not at first appear —
Their coming back seems possible
For many an ardent year.
And then, that we have followed them,
We more than half suspect,
So intimate have we become
With their dear retrospect.
The Sunset stopped on Cottages
The Sunset stopped on Cottages
Where Sunset hence must be
For treason not of His, but Life's,
Gone Westerly, Today —
The Sunset stopped on Cottages
Where Morning just begun —
What difference, after all, Thou mak'st
Thou supercilious Sun?
The Sunset stopped on Cottages
Where Sunset hence must be
For treason not of His, but Life's,
Gone Westerly, Today —
The Sunset stopped on Cottages
Where Morning just begun —
What difference, after all, Thou mak'st
Thou supercilious Sun?
November 27, 2025 at 11:20 AM
The Sunset stopped on Cottages
The Sunset stopped on Cottages
Where Sunset hence must be
For treason not of His, but Life's,
Gone Westerly, Today —
The Sunset stopped on Cottages
Where Morning just begun —
What difference, after all, Thou mak'st
Thou supercilious Sun?
The Sunset stopped on Cottages
Where Sunset hence must be
For treason not of His, but Life's,
Gone Westerly, Today —
The Sunset stopped on Cottages
Where Morning just begun —
What difference, after all, Thou mak'st
Thou supercilious Sun?
(1/2)
We do not play on Graves
We do not play on Graves —
Because there isn't Room —
Besides — it isn't even — it slants
And People come —
And put a Flower on it —
And hang their faces so —
We're fearing that their Hearts will drop —
And crush our pretty play —
And so we move as far
We do not play on Graves
We do not play on Graves —
Because there isn't Room —
Besides — it isn't even — it slants
And People come —
And put a Flower on it —
And hang their faces so —
We're fearing that their Hearts will drop —
And crush our pretty play —
And so we move as far
November 26, 2025 at 11:20 AM
(1/2)
We do not play on Graves
We do not play on Graves —
Because there isn't Room —
Besides — it isn't even — it slants
And People come —
And put a Flower on it —
And hang their faces so —
We're fearing that their Hearts will drop —
And crush our pretty play —
And so we move as far
We do not play on Graves
We do not play on Graves —
Because there isn't Room —
Besides — it isn't even — it slants
And People come —
And put a Flower on it —
And hang their faces so —
We're fearing that their Hearts will drop —
And crush our pretty play —
And so we move as far
Fame of Myself, to justify
Fame of Myself, to justify,
All other Plaudit be
Superfluous — An Incense
Beyond Necessity —
Fame of Myself to lack — Although
My Name be else Supreme —
This were an Honor honorless —
A futile Diadem —
Fame of Myself, to justify,
All other Plaudit be
Superfluous — An Incense
Beyond Necessity —
Fame of Myself to lack — Although
My Name be else Supreme —
This were an Honor honorless —
A futile Diadem —
November 25, 2025 at 11:20 AM
Fame of Myself, to justify
Fame of Myself, to justify,
All other Plaudit be
Superfluous — An Incense
Beyond Necessity —
Fame of Myself to lack — Although
My Name be else Supreme —
This were an Honor honorless —
A futile Diadem —
Fame of Myself, to justify,
All other Plaudit be
Superfluous — An Incense
Beyond Necessity —
Fame of Myself to lack — Although
My Name be else Supreme —
This were an Honor honorless —
A futile Diadem —
Defrauded I a Butterfly
Defrauded I a Butterfly —
The lawful Heir — for Thee —
Defrauded I a Butterfly —
The lawful Heir — for Thee —
November 24, 2025 at 11:20 AM
Defrauded I a Butterfly
Defrauded I a Butterfly —
The lawful Heir — for Thee —
Defrauded I a Butterfly —
The lawful Heir — for Thee —
Sweet Skepticism of the Heart
Sweet Skepticism of the Heart —
That knows — and does not know —
And tosses like a Fleet of Balm —
Affronted by the snow —
Invites and then retards the Truth
Lest Certainty be sere
Compared with the delicious throe
Of transport thrilled with Fear —
Sweet Skepticism of the Heart —
That knows — and does not know —
And tosses like a Fleet of Balm —
Affronted by the snow —
Invites and then retards the Truth
Lest Certainty be sere
Compared with the delicious throe
Of transport thrilled with Fear —
November 23, 2025 at 11:17 AM
Sweet Skepticism of the Heart
Sweet Skepticism of the Heart —
That knows — and does not know —
And tosses like a Fleet of Balm —
Affronted by the snow —
Invites and then retards the Truth
Lest Certainty be sere
Compared with the delicious throe
Of transport thrilled with Fear —
Sweet Skepticism of the Heart —
That knows — and does not know —
And tosses like a Fleet of Balm —
Affronted by the snow —
Invites and then retards the Truth
Lest Certainty be sere
Compared with the delicious throe
Of transport thrilled with Fear —
There was a temporary technical glitch, all good now🤞
November 22, 2025 at 6:54 PM
There was a temporary technical glitch, all good now🤞
By homely gift and hindered Words
By homely gift and hindered Words
The human heart is told
Of Nothing —
"Nothing" is the force
That renovates the World —
By homely gift and hindered Words
The human heart is told
Of Nothing —
"Nothing" is the force
That renovates the World —
November 22, 2025 at 6:52 PM
By homely gift and hindered Words
By homely gift and hindered Words
The human heart is told
Of Nothing —
"Nothing" is the force
That renovates the World —
By homely gift and hindered Words
The human heart is told
Of Nothing —
"Nothing" is the force
That renovates the World —
(1/2)
His Mansion in the Pool
His Mansion in the Pool
The Frog forsakes —
He rises on a Log
And statements makes —
His Auditors two Worlds
Deducting me —
The Orator of April
Is hoarse Today —
His Mittens at his Feet
No Hand hath he —
His eloquence a Bubble
As Fame should be —
His Mansion in the Pool
His Mansion in the Pool
The Frog forsakes —
He rises on a Log
And statements makes —
His Auditors two Worlds
Deducting me —
The Orator of April
Is hoarse Today —
His Mittens at his Feet
No Hand hath he —
His eloquence a Bubble
As Fame should be —
November 19, 2025 at 11:11 AM
(1/2)
His Mansion in the Pool
His Mansion in the Pool
The Frog forsakes —
He rises on a Log
And statements makes —
His Auditors two Worlds
Deducting me —
The Orator of April
Is hoarse Today —
His Mittens at his Feet
No Hand hath he —
His eloquence a Bubble
As Fame should be —
His Mansion in the Pool
His Mansion in the Pool
The Frog forsakes —
He rises on a Log
And statements makes —
His Auditors two Worlds
Deducting me —
The Orator of April
Is hoarse Today —
His Mittens at his Feet
No Hand hath he —
His eloquence a Bubble
As Fame should be —
(1/2)
I Came to buy a smile — today
I Came to buy a smile — today —
But just a single smile —
The smallest one upon your face
Will suit me just as well —
The one that no one else would miss
It shone so very small —
I'm pleading at the "counter" — sir —
Could you afford to sell —
I Came to buy a smile — today
I Came to buy a smile — today —
But just a single smile —
The smallest one upon your face
Will suit me just as well —
The one that no one else would miss
It shone so very small —
I'm pleading at the "counter" — sir —
Could you afford to sell —
November 18, 2025 at 11:11 AM
(1/2)
I Came to buy a smile — today
I Came to buy a smile — today —
But just a single smile —
The smallest one upon your face
Will suit me just as well —
The one that no one else would miss
It shone so very small —
I'm pleading at the "counter" — sir —
Could you afford to sell —
I Came to buy a smile — today
I Came to buy a smile — today —
But just a single smile —
The smallest one upon your face
Will suit me just as well —
The one that no one else would miss
It shone so very small —
I'm pleading at the "counter" — sir —
Could you afford to sell —
The Guest is gold and crimson
The Guest is gold and crimson —
An Opal guest and gray —
Of Ermine is his doublet —
His Capuchin gay —
He reaches town at nightfall —
He stops at every door —
Who looks for him at morning
I pray him too — explore
The Lark's pure territory —
Or the Lapwing's shore!
The Guest is gold and crimson —
An Opal guest and gray —
Of Ermine is his doublet —
His Capuchin gay —
He reaches town at nightfall —
He stops at every door —
Who looks for him at morning
I pray him too — explore
The Lark's pure territory —
Or the Lapwing's shore!
November 17, 2025 at 11:11 AM
The Guest is gold and crimson
The Guest is gold and crimson —
An Opal guest and gray —
Of Ermine is his doublet —
His Capuchin gay —
He reaches town at nightfall —
He stops at every door —
Who looks for him at morning
I pray him too — explore
The Lark's pure territory —
Or the Lapwing's shore!
The Guest is gold and crimson —
An Opal guest and gray —
Of Ermine is his doublet —
His Capuchin gay —
He reaches town at nightfall —
He stops at every door —
Who looks for him at morning
I pray him too — explore
The Lark's pure territory —
Or the Lapwing's shore!
(1/2)
Had I not This, or This, I said
Had I not This, or This, I said,
Appealing to Myself,
In moment of prosperity —
Inadequate — were Life —
"Thou hast not Me, nor Me" — it said,
In Moment of Reverse —
"And yet Thou art industrious —
No need — hadst Thou — of us"?
Had I not This, or This, I said
Had I not This, or This, I said,
Appealing to Myself,
In moment of prosperity —
Inadequate — were Life —
"Thou hast not Me, nor Me" — it said,
In Moment of Reverse —
"And yet Thou art industrious —
No need — hadst Thou — of us"?
November 16, 2025 at 11:09 AM
(1/2)
Had I not This, or This, I said
Had I not This, or This, I said,
Appealing to Myself,
In moment of prosperity —
Inadequate — were Life —
"Thou hast not Me, nor Me" — it said,
In Moment of Reverse —
"And yet Thou art industrious —
No need — hadst Thou — of us"?
Had I not This, or This, I said
Had I not This, or This, I said,
Appealing to Myself,
In moment of prosperity —
Inadequate — were Life —
"Thou hast not Me, nor Me" — it said,
In Moment of Reverse —
"And yet Thou art industrious —
No need — hadst Thou — of us"?
Safe Despair it is that raves
Safe Despair it is that raves —
Agony is frugal.
Puts itself severe away
For its own perusal.
Garrisoned no Soul can be
In the Front of Trouble —
Love is one, not aggregate —
Nor is Dying double —
Safe Despair it is that raves —
Agony is frugal.
Puts itself severe away
For its own perusal.
Garrisoned no Soul can be
In the Front of Trouble —
Love is one, not aggregate —
Nor is Dying double —
November 15, 2025 at 11:09 AM
Safe Despair it is that raves
Safe Despair it is that raves —
Agony is frugal.
Puts itself severe away
For its own perusal.
Garrisoned no Soul can be
In the Front of Trouble —
Love is one, not aggregate —
Nor is Dying double —
Safe Despair it is that raves —
Agony is frugal.
Puts itself severe away
For its own perusal.
Garrisoned no Soul can be
In the Front of Trouble —
Love is one, not aggregate —
Nor is Dying double —
(1/2)
It knew no Medicine
It knew no Medicine —
It was not Sickness — then —
Nor any need of Surgery —
And therefore — 'twas not Pain —
It moved away the Cheeks —
A Dimple at a time —
And left the Profile — plainer —
And in the place of Bloom
It left the little Tint
That never had a Name —
It knew no Medicine
It knew no Medicine —
It was not Sickness — then —
Nor any need of Surgery —
And therefore — 'twas not Pain —
It moved away the Cheeks —
A Dimple at a time —
And left the Profile — plainer —
And in the place of Bloom
It left the little Tint
That never had a Name —
November 14, 2025 at 11:10 AM
(1/2)
It knew no Medicine
It knew no Medicine —
It was not Sickness — then —
Nor any need of Surgery —
And therefore — 'twas not Pain —
It moved away the Cheeks —
A Dimple at a time —
And left the Profile — plainer —
And in the place of Bloom
It left the little Tint
That never had a Name —
It knew no Medicine
It knew no Medicine —
It was not Sickness — then —
Nor any need of Surgery —
And therefore — 'twas not Pain —
It moved away the Cheeks —
A Dimple at a time —
And left the Profile — plainer —
And in the place of Bloom
It left the little Tint
That never had a Name —
So from the mould
So from the mould
Scarlet and Gold
Many a Bulb will rise —
Hidden away, cunningly, From sagacious eyes.
So from Cocoon
Many a Worm
Leap so Highland gay,
Peasants like me,
Peasants like Thee
Gaze perplexedly!
So from the mould
Scarlet and Gold
Many a Bulb will rise —
Hidden away, cunningly, From sagacious eyes.
So from Cocoon
Many a Worm
Leap so Highland gay,
Peasants like me,
Peasants like Thee
Gaze perplexedly!
November 13, 2025 at 11:11 AM
So from the mould
So from the mould
Scarlet and Gold
Many a Bulb will rise —
Hidden away, cunningly, From sagacious eyes.
So from Cocoon
Many a Worm
Leap so Highland gay,
Peasants like me,
Peasants like Thee
Gaze perplexedly!
So from the mould
Scarlet and Gold
Many a Bulb will rise —
Hidden away, cunningly, From sagacious eyes.
So from Cocoon
Many a Worm
Leap so Highland gay,
Peasants like me,
Peasants like Thee
Gaze perplexedly!
Pain has but one Acquaintance
Pain has but one Acquaintance
And that is Death —
Each one unto the other
Society enough.
Pain is the Junior Party
By just a Second's right —
Death tenderly assists Him
And then absconds from Sight.
Pain has but one Acquaintance
And that is Death —
Each one unto the other
Society enough.
Pain is the Junior Party
By just a Second's right —
Death tenderly assists Him
And then absconds from Sight.
November 12, 2025 at 11:10 AM
Pain has but one Acquaintance
Pain has but one Acquaintance
And that is Death —
Each one unto the other
Society enough.
Pain is the Junior Party
By just a Second's right —
Death tenderly assists Him
And then absconds from Sight.
Pain has but one Acquaintance
And that is Death —
Each one unto the other
Society enough.
Pain is the Junior Party
By just a Second's right —
Death tenderly assists Him
And then absconds from Sight.
An antiquated Grace
An antiquated Grace
Becomes that cherished Face
As well as prime
Enjoining us to part
We and our pouting Heart
Good friends with time
An antiquated Grace
Becomes that cherished Face
As well as prime
Enjoining us to part
We and our pouting Heart
Good friends with time
November 11, 2025 at 11:11 AM
An antiquated Grace
An antiquated Grace
Becomes that cherished Face
As well as prime
Enjoining us to part
We and our pouting Heart
Good friends with time
An antiquated Grace
Becomes that cherished Face
As well as prime
Enjoining us to part
We and our pouting Heart
Good friends with time
Soft as the massacre of Suns
Soft as the massacre of Suns
By Evening's Sabres slain
Soft as the massacre of Suns
By Evening's Sabres slain
November 10, 2025 at 11:11 AM
Soft as the massacre of Suns
Soft as the massacre of Suns
By Evening's Sabres slain
Soft as the massacre of Suns
By Evening's Sabres slain
I am afraid to own a Body
I am afraid to own a Body —
I am afraid to own a Soul —
Profound — precarious Property —
Possession, not optional —
Double Estate — entailed at pleasure
Upon an unsuspecting Heir —
Duke in a moment of Deathlessness
And God, for a Frontier.
I am afraid to own a Body —
I am afraid to own a Soul —
Profound — precarious Property —
Possession, not optional —
Double Estate — entailed at pleasure
Upon an unsuspecting Heir —
Duke in a moment of Deathlessness
And God, for a Frontier.
November 9, 2025 at 11:09 AM
I am afraid to own a Body
I am afraid to own a Body —
I am afraid to own a Soul —
Profound — precarious Property —
Possession, not optional —
Double Estate — entailed at pleasure
Upon an unsuspecting Heir —
Duke in a moment of Deathlessness
And God, for a Frontier.
I am afraid to own a Body —
I am afraid to own a Soul —
Profound — precarious Property —
Possession, not optional —
Double Estate — entailed at pleasure
Upon an unsuspecting Heir —
Duke in a moment of Deathlessness
And God, for a Frontier.
(1/2)
There is a June when Corn is cut
There is a June when Corn is cut
And Roses in the Seed —
A Summer briefer than the first
But tenderer indeed
As should a Face supposed the Grave's
Emerge a single Noon
In the Vermilion that it wore
Affect us, and return —
Two Seasons, it is said, exist —
There is a June when Corn is cut
There is a June when Corn is cut
And Roses in the Seed —
A Summer briefer than the first
But tenderer indeed
As should a Face supposed the Grave's
Emerge a single Noon
In the Vermilion that it wore
Affect us, and return —
Two Seasons, it is said, exist —
November 8, 2025 at 11:09 AM
(1/2)
There is a June when Corn is cut
There is a June when Corn is cut
And Roses in the Seed —
A Summer briefer than the first
But tenderer indeed
As should a Face supposed the Grave's
Emerge a single Noon
In the Vermilion that it wore
Affect us, and return —
Two Seasons, it is said, exist —
There is a June when Corn is cut
There is a June when Corn is cut
And Roses in the Seed —
A Summer briefer than the first
But tenderer indeed
As should a Face supposed the Grave's
Emerge a single Noon
In the Vermilion that it wore
Affect us, and return —
Two Seasons, it is said, exist —
(1/2)
A House upon the Height
A House upon the Height —
That Wagon never reached —
No Dead, were ever carried down —
No Peddler's Cart — approached —
Whose Chimney never smoked —
Whose Windows — Night and Morn —
Caught Sunrise first — and Sunset — last —
Then — held an Empty Pane —
A House upon the Height
A House upon the Height —
That Wagon never reached —
No Dead, were ever carried down —
No Peddler's Cart — approached —
Whose Chimney never smoked —
Whose Windows — Night and Morn —
Caught Sunrise first — and Sunset — last —
Then — held an Empty Pane —
November 7, 2025 at 11:10 AM
(1/2)
A House upon the Height
A House upon the Height —
That Wagon never reached —
No Dead, were ever carried down —
No Peddler's Cart — approached —
Whose Chimney never smoked —
Whose Windows — Night and Morn —
Caught Sunrise first — and Sunset — last —
Then — held an Empty Pane —
A House upon the Height
A House upon the Height —
That Wagon never reached —
No Dead, were ever carried down —
No Peddler's Cart — approached —
Whose Chimney never smoked —
Whose Windows — Night and Morn —
Caught Sunrise first — and Sunset — last —
Then — held an Empty Pane —
(1/2)
The lonesome for they know not What
The lonesome for they know not What —
The Eastern Exiles — be —
Who strayed beyond the Amber line
Some madder Holiday —
And ever since — the purple Moat
They strive to climb — in vain —
As Birds — that tumble from the clouds
Do fumble at the strain —
The lonesome for they know not What
The lonesome for they know not What —
The Eastern Exiles — be —
Who strayed beyond the Amber line
Some madder Holiday —
And ever since — the purple Moat
They strive to climb — in vain —
As Birds — that tumble from the clouds
Do fumble at the strain —
November 6, 2025 at 11:11 AM
(1/2)
The lonesome for they know not What
The lonesome for they know not What —
The Eastern Exiles — be —
Who strayed beyond the Amber line
Some madder Holiday —
And ever since — the purple Moat
They strive to climb — in vain —
As Birds — that tumble from the clouds
Do fumble at the strain —
The lonesome for they know not What
The lonesome for they know not What —
The Eastern Exiles — be —
Who strayed beyond the Amber line
Some madder Holiday —
And ever since — the purple Moat
They strive to climb — in vain —
As Birds — that tumble from the clouds
Do fumble at the strain —
He found my Being — set it up
He found my Being — set it up —
Adjusted it to place —
Then carved his name — upon it —
And bade it to the East
Be faithful — in his absence —
And he would come again —
With Equipage of Amber —
That time — to take it Home —
He found my Being — set it up —
Adjusted it to place —
Then carved his name — upon it —
And bade it to the East
Be faithful — in his absence —
And he would come again —
With Equipage of Amber —
That time — to take it Home —
November 5, 2025 at 11:11 AM
He found my Being — set it up
He found my Being — set it up —
Adjusted it to place —
Then carved his name — upon it —
And bade it to the East
Be faithful — in his absence —
And he would come again —
With Equipage of Amber —
That time — to take it Home —
He found my Being — set it up —
Adjusted it to place —
Then carved his name — upon it —
And bade it to the East
Be faithful — in his absence —
And he would come again —
With Equipage of Amber —
That time — to take it Home —
(1/3)
Heaven has different Signs — to me
"Heaven" has different Signs — to me —
Sometimes, I think that Noon
Is but a symbol of the Place —
And when again, at Dawn,
A mighty look runs round the World
And settles in the Hills —
An Awe if it should be like that
Upon the Ignorance steals —
Heaven has different Signs — to me
"Heaven" has different Signs — to me —
Sometimes, I think that Noon
Is but a symbol of the Place —
And when again, at Dawn,
A mighty look runs round the World
And settles in the Hills —
An Awe if it should be like that
Upon the Ignorance steals —
November 4, 2025 at 11:11 AM
(1/3)
Heaven has different Signs — to me
"Heaven" has different Signs — to me —
Sometimes, I think that Noon
Is but a symbol of the Place —
And when again, at Dawn,
A mighty look runs round the World
And settles in the Hills —
An Awe if it should be like that
Upon the Ignorance steals —
Heaven has different Signs — to me
"Heaven" has different Signs — to me —
Sometimes, I think that Noon
Is but a symbol of the Place —
And when again, at Dawn,
A mighty look runs round the World
And settles in the Hills —
An Awe if it should be like that
Upon the Ignorance steals —