My thoughts on how the world works

This is Dickinson’s poem #360, as cataloged in Dickinson by Helen Vendler.

The Soul has bandaged moments -
When too appalled to stir -
She feels some ghastly Fright come up
and stop to look at her -

Salute her, with long fingers -
Caress her freezing hair -
Sip, Goblin, from the very lips
The lover – hovered – o’er -
Unworthy, that a thought so mean
Accost a Theme – so – fair -

The soul has moments of escape -
When bursting all the doors -
She dances like a bomb, abroad,
And swings upon the Hours,

As do the Bee – delirious borne -
Long Dungeoned from his Rose -
Touch Liberty – then know no more -
But Noon, and Paradise -

The Soul’s retaken moments -
When, Felon led along,
With shackles on the Plumèd feet,
And staples, in the song,

The Horror welcomes her, again,
These, are not brayed of Tongue -

This is not a poem to be taken lightly, far from it. Vendler thinks it is about love (a more conventional, if shop-worn, explanation) – but I think it is deeper than that.

Something horrible has happened to all of us. Dickinson is aware of it – but not quite sure what it is. Delicious moments of liberty are all too often turned into slavery again.

In our time sex has become something horrible that cripples, instead of liberating. Being Victorian, Dickinson cannot distinguish between the two.

Vendler’s explanation, based on poetic rhythm and rhyme – is well-worth reading, and re-acquaints us with the basics of poetry.