Emily Dickinson Poetry - Made Visual - by Pondell

  Ample make this Bed - Make this Bed with Awe - In it wait till Judgment break Excellent and Fair. Be it Mattress straight - Be it Pillow round - Let no Sunrise’ yellow noise Interrupt this Ground -  Emily Dickinson # 289 In David Preest’s website http://www.emilydickinsonpoems.org/ he said, “Emily herself titled a copy of this poem ‘Country Burial.’ The mourners are to make the spacious bed of this grave ‘with Awe,’ because in it the dead man awaits the day of Judgment.”  This description of the poem made me see it completely differently than what I was thinking when I first read it. I couldn’t help but gravitate to this poem, seeing that I now make multiple beds on a daily basis.  I make beds as part of my profession and take great pride in a good crease. To me a well-made bed stood for good discipline, like a soldier making the perfect bed, and because of that good discipline, you will be judged “Excellent and Fair.” The thing is, usually it's the unmade beds that show, this p

  It is easy to work when the soul is at play - But when the soul is in pain - The hearing him put his play things up Makes work difficult - then - It is simple, to ache, in the Bone, or the Rhind - But Gimblets - among the nerve - Mangle daintier - terribler - Like a Panther in the Glove - Emily Dickinson This poem is about the instinctual aspect of creativity, which is represented by the Panther.  This type of creativity includes all manner of things that require a person to lose themselves.  You completely lose yourself and become the Panther. It requires you to get your brain out of the game.  There are many instances (athletics, writing, music, etc.) where we over think things, and end up mangling the whole thing. Our brain becomes the “Gimblet” that “Mangles” and suffocates the

  The difference between Despair And Fear - is like the One Between the instant of a Wreck - And when the Wreck has been - The Mind is smooth - no Motion - Contented as the Eye Upon the Forehead of a Bust - That knows - it cannot see -                                                       Emily Dickinson #305 Description, A "Wreck" is an event that happens instantly, "I do", boom you're married, it is the “Fear” and excitement of the unknown. Then 17 years later with two kids, no matter how good of a person you are, you will have dealt with “Despair,” because along with living and loving, comes despair and suffering. The excitement and fear of a new job you thought would solve all of  your problems, only to find out your problems still exist but now you have a job on top of your problems/despair.   This poem is saying, do not think something, someone, or some event is going to solve all your problems.  Marriage, kids, job, bigger house, fancy car, none of it is

  These are the days when Birds come back - A very few - a Bird or two - To take a backward look. These are the days when skies resume The old - old sophistries of June - A blue and gold mistake. Oh fraud that cannot cheat the Bee - Almost thy plausibility Induces my belief. Till ranks of seeds their witness bear - And softly thro’ the altered air Hurries a timid leaf. Oh Sacrament of summer days, Oh Last Communion in the Haze - Permit a child to join. Thy sacred emblems to partake - Thy consecrated bread to take And thine immortal wine! Emily Dickinson #130 Description, Greg Mattingly, in “Emily Dickinson as a Second Language Demystifying the Poetry”, describes this poem as, “moves us from high summer to a later time of year. A period of unseasonably warm, balmy weather can occur in the autumn in New England, as well as in some other parts of the Northern State sometimes called “Indian Summer”.             I started working on the image for this poem in September just after su

  The Daisy follows soft the Sun- And when his golden walk is done- Sits shyly at his feet - He-waking-finds the flower there- Wherefore - Marauder - art thou here? Because, Sir, love is sweet! We are the Flower - Thou the Sun! Forgive us, if as days decline- We nearer steal to Thee! Enamored of the parting West- The peace - the flight - the Amethyst Nights possibilities            Emily Dickinson #106 Description, I have been doing this project of creating art from Emily Dickinson poetry for over five years,  I do not get paid, and I do not count how many I’ve done.  More posts can be seen at Emilydickinsonillustrator.com and daisypoems.blogspot.com .  I do it for pure enjoyment, not to check a poem off my list.  I take my time with these poems and the reward is sweet. Each poem has their own providential surprise.   For poem #106 I had just started a new job, I was out in my shed all day as a call center agent.  The first two months of my job I held in my palm an amethyst crystal, t

  To own the art within the Soul The Soul to entertain With Silence as a Company And Festival maintain Is an unfurnished Circumstance Possession is to One As an Estate perpetual Or a reduceless Mine. Emily Dickinson #855 Description, I chose this poem because we are all being self quarantined due to the Corona Virus right now. We have all been stripped of any planned gatherings, some of us from jobs, children’s events, and even the malls are closed. Essentially we are all left with just ourselves and immediate family to keep us company. But if it is only your Soul that you rely on for company and entertainment then you will never be bored, you will always have a “festival to maintain,” an ever flowing gold “Mine/ an Estate perpetual” or to put it into today’s terms —— a TV in your brain, the best show on Netflix that never stops running, show after show after show. It is when, your soul and living, become more entertaining than anything material or than anythin

  We pray - to Heaven - We prate - of Heaven - Relate - when Neighbors die - At what o’clock to Heaven - they fled - Who saw them - Wherefore fly?   Is Heaven a Place - a Sky - a Tree? Location’s narrow way is for Ourselves - Unto the Dead There’s no Geography -   But State - Endowal - Focus - Where - Omnipresence - fly? Emily Dickinson #489 Description,   As the world is fighting the Corona Virus, I thought this was such a fitting image because I cannot help but see bugs as ugly, evil creatures, lurking in cracks and the dark, waiting to pinch and either suck your blood or inject a poison.  In my mind they are as evil and ugly as a virus.  But then as an artist I have developed an objective eye on all beings and things, and appreciate the different, the ugly, and perverse. As beauty is in ugly, death is in life.  Death is not just underground in a casket, “Location’s narrow way is for Ourselves -/ Unto the Dead/There’s no Geography-.” The dead and the living are constantly

The Fact that Earth is Heaven - Whether Heaven is Heaven or not If not an Affidavit Of that specific Spot Not only must confirm us That it is not for us But that it would affront us  To dwell in such a place - Emily Dickinson #1408 Description, This poem does not say “there is no Heaven” it is saying quite the opposite, “That Earth is Heaven.” I transformed an icon my parents brought back from Italy to reflect this poem. Instead of Jesus looking straight ahead, I tilted his head up to look at the Crazy Daisy in the sky, I replaced Jesus’s halo with the earth and put his halo on the Daisy. And, like Jesus being crucified with two other men on either side of him this Crazy Daisy has two crucified trees on either side of it. The Earth is Heaven, it is perfect, and we are killing it, just like we did Jesus. As we torture and suffocate our Earth with plastic and concrete, I can only imagine this Daisy saying as did Jesus “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” Luke 23:34.

  How soft this Prison is  How sweet these sullen bars No Despot but the King of Down Invented this repose Of Fate if this is All Has he no added Realm A Dungeon but a Kinsman is Incarceration - Home. Emily Dickinson #1334 “An Alley Cat Finds A Home” The two words, “King” and “Repose,” made me instantly think of this Cat, who in every pose he strikes, resembles that of a fat King.  Home is where an Alley Cat finds food and comfort, (you can see this cat, who we call, Mr. Kittles, owns multiple homes) but then it can become his incarceration. Due to the Corona Virus we are all being quarantined, and our homes are feeling more like an incarceration.  So why not make our homes “sweet” and “soft” like cotton candy and candy canes?  The trick is, not to let your fellow man/woman or “Kinsman” make you feel like your sweet home is a “Dungeon”.  In other words, put up your positive shield, ignore any slander or negativity, and stay focused on your Candy! Here is a nice Youtube  hypnosis on Pos

To try to speak, and miss the way                  And ask it of the Tears, Is Gratitude’s sweet poverty, The Tatters that he wears - A better Coat if he possessed Would help him to conceal, Not subjugate, the Mutineer Whose title is “The Soul” Description, "The Soul" is a wild beast, a  "Mutineer," who goes out and lets loose, and the better he gets at something, the wilder it becomes, making a soccer goal, winning a boxing match, creating an amazing poem, creating an amazing piece to go with it.  But as cocky as these famous athletes and artists can be, they are not without extreme gratitude for the people and Gods that helped them to get to where they are.  Muhammad Ali always thanked "Allah" after his fights. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Religious_views_of_Muhammad_Ali The funny thing is, these very confident people who are extremely grateful, must also be extremely humble, because it takes being humble to be grateful. Gra

Did Our Best Moment last - ‘Twould supersede the Heaven - A few - and they by Risk - procure- So this Sort - are not given Except as stimulants - in Cases of Despair - Or Stupor - The Reserve - These Heavenly moments are - A Grant of the Divine - That Certain as it Comes - Withdraws - and leaves the dazzled Soul In her unfurnished Rooms - Description, So I renovated the inside of my shed over the summer, laid down wall to wall carpet and bought a really nice recliner armchair. So one overcast rainy afternoon, I am sitting out in my shed in my chair and reading, I look out the window (which really isn’t behind me, it’s on the other wall) and there is a rainbow, a "Heavenly moment" a "Grant of the Divine-." If you can recognize these moments, they absolutely do dazzle the soul. I envy anyone who can live for a prolonged time in these moments, before being dropped off into an "unfurnished" room, or what I sometimes cyni

Reverse cannot befall That fine Prosperity Whose Sources are interior - As soon - Adversity A Diamond - overtake In far - Bolivian Ground - Misfortune hath no implement Could mar it - if it found - Description, I couldn’t help but think of this poem when listening to, Esther (Abraham) Hicks, talk about being in the Vortex  https://youtu.be/ML4WaQZD1Ms . My friend Amanda, depicted here, introduced me to her years ago but I just now started listening to her YouTube videos.  She talks about going about your day completely immersed in your Vortex, and that is how it should be. These are the “interior sources” that represent “fine prosperity” that nothing can “befall." This also goes along with Plato’s https://philosiblog.com/2012/03/12/to-be-conquered-by-yourself-is-of-all-things-most-shameful-and-vile/ theory, “The first and best victory is to conquer self. To be conquered by self is, of all things, the most shameful and vile." Amanda is

Corinne Pondell · Abundance I think to Live - may be a Bliss To those who dare to try - Beyond my limit - to conceive - My lip - to testify - I think the Heart I former wore Could widen - till to me The Other, like the little Bank Appear - unto the Sea - I think the Days - could every one In Ordinatioin Stand - And Majesty - be easier - Than an inferior kind - No numb alarm - lest Difference come - No Goblin - on the Bloom - No start in Apprehension’s Ear, No Bankruptcy - no Doom - But Certainties of Sun - Midsummer - in the Mind - A steadfast South - upon the Soul - Her Polar time - behind - The Vision - pondering long - So plausible  becomes That I esteem the fiction - real - The Real - fictitious seems - How bountiful the Dream - What Plenty - it would be Had all my Life but been Mistake Just rectified - in Thee Corinne Pondell · Abundance When I talked to a recruiter for being qualified for a Life Coach, she

None who saw it ever told it ‘Tis as hid as Death Had for that specific treasure A departing breath- Surfaces may be invested Did the Diamond grow General as the Dandelion Would you serve it so? Description, I remember my photography professor, Kok Young, always saying, “You don’t need to go anywhere to do good art.”  Inspiration and art is all around you if you seek it. The extraordinary is in the everyday, it just takes a closer look. When I open my studio doors, I can see a garbage can and weeds, or I can see a weed with its many complex and beautiful lines. It is just a matter of shifting your focus so you become always eternally grateful. “Serve“ the everyday with extreme observation and appreciation, and you will see an everyday weed turn into sparklers and fireworks, on the 4th of July, right before your very eyes. Everything and every moment is a “treasure”  and should be treated so.