Writing: vernacular forms vs. standard English

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Bring me the sunset in a cup
Reckon the morning's flagons up
And say how many Dew
Tell me how far the morning leaps
Tell me what time the weaver sleeps
Who spun the breadth of blue!

Write me how many notes there be
In the new Robin's ecstasy
Among astonished boughs
How many trips the Tortoise makes
How many cups the Bee partakes
The Debauchee of Dews!

Also, who laid the Rainbow's piers
Also, who leads the docile spheres
By withes of supple blue?
Whose fingers string the stalactite
Who counts the wampum of the night
To see that none is due?

Who built this little Alban House
And shut the windows down so close
My spirit cannot see?
Who'll let me out some gala day
With implements to fly away
Passing Pomposity?
 

How did I miss post 26

Again a phrase with a hook
"Bring me the sunset in a cup"
"morning leaps"
'weaver sleeps? (does not make sense)

The questions within the lines, what are we to make of them?
 

Post 3
That poem is alleged to be Emily's yearning for her boyfriend, lover-in fantasy only,
hoping, wanting, knowing it could never be.
The 'boyfriend' was married, a minister, later he moved to the west coast; now Emily
had to learn long-distance yearning.

The last stanza on post 3
Emily was not a stranger to anguish or self- inflicted Pain-strange lady.
 
jerry old said:
I am old, way old. I've lived by myself, or been alone-sometimes my son's 'move in' but there not much company.
I started writing many years ago, primarily due to being lonely. I scribed, scribble... Several years ago, I got serious about
my writing. (Nine years ago I lost my internet access, you just can't write with pen and paper once you've become used to
Microsoft Word.
I'm primarily interested in exchanging ideas, form of writing, topics chosen to write about, basically, all forms of
I consider myself an expert on Emily Dickinson, would love to find others of like interest.
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I'm by no means an ED scholar, but have studied/read her for many years. Have you ever visited/toured her home in Amherst, MA? I have 3 different times. Last visit in 2001 the Evergreens was open for tours also, which of course I could not pass up.

Do you own the Voices and Visions/Annenberg CPB project video for her, very well presented, R.B Sewall was brilliant.

I also toured Harvard's Houghten library's Emily Dickinson room.

Also, the Jones library on Amity street, they have a few of her Manuscripts and at least 1 of the 1890 first editions.

And of course her gravesite, with family, in West cemetery. Her headstone reads-- ''Called Back". I'm sure you know all this though. To me she was Genius, as Mabel Loomis Todd said that about her.

My 1st visit in 1988 one of the guides was an older woman who actually met and knew ED's niece Mattie, thrilling.
 
Here is one of mine. Emily wrote about death in many poems, what she called the Flood Subject.

I am without sin (fiction)

I am without sin
I heard a rumor tell.
I have no heart to feel,
I have no soul to quell.

Sin is just a word
A passing mere expression,
Meant no harm, no foul,
A facial misconception.

Dire pain within me
A welcome not to wince.
I have no King to bow to
Just an Evil Prince.

I'll cast the first stone
I heard a rumor tell.
And cast around my neck
One fathom into Hell.
 
Ohioboy:
I was within 30 miles of Emily's home many years ago. I almost went to visit 'The Homestead,' but i wrestled with my emotions.
I felt it would be veneration, which is a trait i lack. I wish i had, but...
Miss Emily crawls into your mind, with single lines that will not go away.
She is the American Poet.
I'm somewhat irked that her life is an exploration of 'The Recluse of Amherst,. rather than her poetry.
Yes, the lady had her problems, but she left quatrains that startle, shock the senses and demand attention.
She has been my 'girlfriend' for many decades and has brought a sense of wonder into my life.

She explored topics that most of us shy away from and 'slaps the reader in the face with them.'
 
I completed the first draft of a novel set in the late seventies about some people a few years out of high school. It's semi-autobiographical. I don't know if I'll ever finish it, since I'm kind of sick of things about the '70s. I mean, that was a great and fascinating period in U.S. history, but you reach a point of saturation and crave something more contemporary.

So then I outlined and started writing a novel about a serial killer using modern technology to avoid capture. To me, it's a good story, but writing a novel is a huge amount of work, and chances are, you'd be lucky to earn a few hundred dollars from it, so you have to really love to write. I hope to someday get to that point. Right now, it's still work, and who the hell wants to work when you don't have to. I'd much rather play. :)
 
Don't know, could be wrong...not sure we write for money, though money is nice' we/you/us write because we
must, can't help it.
 
I love writing and keep promising myself to let the muse have sway. Often while falling asleep or in the throes of REM sleep my mind goes wild with the flow of prose. Been like that since childhood. Often, upon waking I might jot something down before it fades.
 
I've written hundreds of brilliant novels while trying to go to sleep-no really good stuff, but when i sit down at pc
"POOF' the the great lines and plots are gone.
 
Jerry, do you own the video "The Belle of Amherst" by William Luce. Julie Harris captures her essence perfectly.
 
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SetWave said:
I love writing and keep promising myself to let the muse have sway. Often while falling asleep or in the throes of REM sleep my mind goes wild with the flow of prose. Been like that since childhood. Often, upon waking I might jot something down before it fades.
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jerry old said:
I've written hundreds of brilliant novels while trying to go to sleep-no really good stuff, but when i sit down at pc
"POOF' the the great lines and plots are gone.
Click to expand...
When it comes, for me, its akin to speeding thru the curves of a country road
......with the throttle stuck, and no brakes

Can't type fast enough

Can't stop

No matter time of day
 
ohioboy said:
Jerry, do you own the video "The Belle of Amherst" by William Luce. Julie Harris captures her essence perfectly.
Click to expand...
Oh yea, she's my girlfriend, a bit gamey, but she was gamey when she had to live around others too.
Them books about here contain a lot of silly

She done drove a spike in your mind; you call'um quatrains-four lines is plenty for a thought, mostly.

Her was a strange girl, but she liked being strange.
 
jerry old said:
Oh yea, she's my girlfriend, a bit gamey, but she was gamey when she had to live around others too.
Them books about here contain a lot of silly

She done drove a spike in your mind; you call'um quatrains-four lines is plenty for a thought, mostly.

Her was a strange girl, but she liked being strange.
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On my last visit to her home in her bedroom, of course the focal point of the tour, they had one of her white dresses on display, very humbling to look at.

Based on the size of the dress, and her death certificate notation of the casket size/length, I'm going to put her height at 4' 6-7''.

Of course the way it is painted now, her home, I do not like, I much preferred the Brick house. I hope I get back someday, I really do.

The grounds are beautiful also. The garden she attended is on the corner of Main and Triangle street, it was a thrill just to walk around the grounds.
 
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No, no,no her was well over 6 feet tall, that's how come her was a'feared to go out and mingle.

The family was weird-given the mores of the time, sweet brother (slipping off from spouse) and his honey would hook up in Emily's house.
Emily was ever the helpful sis...

Don't suppose you were there the one day a year when they display Emily's dress (supposed to be a white dress that she flopped around the
lawn)?
I think the sister's had an Elderberry Wine problem

Me and the old woman were down at Fenway Park, i wanted to go see my lady friend, old woman cranked that idea.
Ain't never been back it that area
 
Em in Ohio said:
Hi Jerry: I was intrigued and a bit confused by your thread topic, to be honest. I love your responses and they clearly indicate that you are a fine wordsmith, but I fear this thread will get buried. I started a thread on favorite poems and someone else (sorry, poor memory) started a thread for original poetry works - I'd love to see this material in one or both of those. Perhaps you could start a thread for non-fiction or other specific types of writing. As for your interest in Emily Dickinson, is that noted in your profile page? It might help expand your E.D. connections. I'm new to social media, so these are just my impressions. EDIT: I just realized that there is a FORUM here at https://www.seniorforums.com/threads/literature-poetry.32632/page-2 and I'm not sure that I knew that or posted to it... That's, no doubt, where these types of topics/materials should go. My apologies!
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I too was confused by thread title. I thought my problem was Sunday morning brain fog. Interesting dialogue about Emily and good poetry but little connection to thread title. Was it just to inspire clicks?

IMHO, a lot of literature would be dull and boring without dialogue in the vernacular.
 
My forever war again standard english continues:

Now you go find yourself a plot greater than form and structure
like this Daniel Woodrell fell'a did:

Winter’s Bone
Daniel Woodrell


A no good daddy got thrown in jail; he had no money to make bail so he used his house for the surety bond.
He had a court appearance scheduled, if he failed to appear the bail bondsman would foreclose on his house.
The no good daddy would have kept his court appearance, but he wandered off and got kilt by folks that was as rough as he was. The folks that kilt him chunked his body into the swamp.

The dead daddy weren’t no lose, ‘cepting to his 16 y/o daughter a crazy wife and two other youngins lived in the house.
Iff’ing in the dead daddy failed to keep his court appearance the home would be seized, leaving his children and crazy spouse destitute.

(You got all that) Okay, the daughter had to prove to the court that her daddy couldn’t keep his court appearance ‘cause he was dead.
The sheriff said he needed a body of ‘sumpting to prove the daddy was dead.

The daughter knowed her shirt-tail relatives had kilt her paw; she asked them if she could have the body to prove to the sheriff that her pap was dead?
The no-good relatives didn’t want to owe up to killing the no-good daddy. They beat her ass bad hoping to silence her. If she keep looking for her daddy they’d give her a spot next to him.

This here is what you call a dilemma

How she resolved it is plumb scary.

If you can find a plot that outweighs all other factors, folk's read it.

(This is great fun to me, 🤗doubtful that others will find it so😞
It ain't where i was headed, but here tis, it's the best i can do
given my brain problem)

Oh yea, the ending of the book, it gets it all scrambled
 

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