<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="yes"?><oembed><version><![CDATA[1.0]]></version><provider_name><![CDATA[Irresistibly Fish]]></provider_name><provider_url><![CDATA[https://brettfish.wordpress.com]]></provider_url><author_name><![CDATA[brettfish]]></author_name><author_url><![CDATA[https://brettfish.wordpress.com/author/brettfish/]]></author_url><title><![CDATA[NaPoWriMo: Day 5 &#8211; Emily&nbsp;Dickinson]]></title><type><![CDATA[link]]></type><html><![CDATA[<p>[National Poetry Writing Month &#8211; composing a poem a day based on a prompt &#8211; Find an Emily Dickinson poem – preferably one you’ve never previously read &#8211; and take out all the dashes and line breaks. Make it just one big block of prose. Now, rebreak the lines. Add words where you want. Take out some words. Make your own poem out of it!]</p>
<blockquote>
<p style="text-align:center;"><span style="text-decoration:underline;"><strong>I, not Death, stood up</strong></span></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><strong>it was not death.</strong><br />
<strong> I stood up&#8230; and all the dead&#8230;</strong></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><strong>lie down?</strong></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><strong>It was not night for all</strong><br />
<strong> put out your tongues,</strong><br />
<strong> for noon was not frost</strong></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><strong>my flesh I felt crawl</strong></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><strong> fire, for just my marble feet, could keep cool</strong></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><strong> and yet, it tasted, like them all</strong></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><strong> the figures I have seen set for burial</strong></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><strong>reminded me, of mine as if my life were shaven</strong></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><strong>and fitted to a frame</strong></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><strong>i could not breathe without midnight</strong><br />
<strong> ’twas like a key ,</strong><br />
<strong> when everything that ticked has stopped</strong><br />
<strong> and space stares all around</strong><br />
<strong> or grisly frosts first autumn morns</strong><br />
<strong> repel the beating ground</strong></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><strong> but, like chaos</strong><br />
<strong> stopless, without a chance</strong><br />
<strong> or even a report of land to justify despair</strong></p>
</blockquote>
<p style="text-align:center;">[with apologies to emily dickinson, based on her poem, &#8216;It was not Death, For I Stood up&#8217;]</p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><a href="https://brettfish.wordpress.com/2015/04/07/napowrimo-day-6-aubade"><strong>[For the next poem, an Aubade, which i think is my best one so far, click here]</strong></a></p>
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