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Comment 22 of 82, added on February 13th, 2012 at 11:31 AM.
Interesting. We are waiting for new messages on the same topic!!....
Comment 21 of 82, added on February 13th, 2012 at 11:09 AM.
I read and feel at home. Thanks the creators for a good resource..!!
Comment 20 of 82, added on February 12th, 2012 at 4:35 AM.
I3FTvE Internet is written with the capital letter in a sentence, by the
way. And hundredths are written not with a point but with a comma. This is
according to the standard. And actually everything is very good..!
cheap oem software
Comment 19 of 82, added on April 10th, 2011 at 6:04 AM.
"It was not death for I stood up" Analysis
I got the analysis from the following source:
The narrator’s ratiocination of her emotional landscape forms the argument
of this poem as she persists in establishing an understanding of her
anguish or “it” with imagery relating to death, darkness, cold and heat.
The narrator ruminates upon her present psychological frame of mind as she
logically eliminates possible states of being (being dead, in night, in
winter, being burnt by fire) that could account for her emotions. Her
reasoning is as below: She is not dead as she could stand and the dead
could not. The darkness that swallows her up is not night as she could hear
the afternoon bells “put(ting) out their tongues”/ringing. The coldness
that she felt is not “frost” as she could feel “siroccos” (A hot, dry wind
) ‘crawl on her flesh’. The heat or burning sensation is not ‘fire’ for her
“marble (cold) feet” could keep cool the passionate choir singing and
warm-blooded clergy preaching.
Yet, she “taste them all”- the agony of death, darkness and the extremes of
coldness and heat. She is reminded of her own death by the ‘figures’ she
has seen getting prepared for burial in which she imagined herself to be,
too, imprisoned in the frame of a coffin and getting ready for burial
“shaven” of all things merry and “fitted to a frame” rigid, confined and
“could not breathe without a key”. The key in this case might be the
freedom in contrast to her confinement, hope in contrast to the death of
hope, understanding in contrast to the lack of understanding of her current
state of being. And in extension of the imagery of darkness, she pictures
herself as very dead of the night/midnight- being in infinite darkness.
When time stops and isolation in which she feels small with “space”
“staring all around” sets in. Or the desolation she felt with the macabre
“frost”/ice and the leaves from “first autumn mornings” that “repeals”
/cover and eliminates the “beating ground”; A feeling that smothers her
beating heart. But finally, she concludes that it is mostly like being in a
state of evolutionary, chaotic flux, “stopless” and “cool”; like being in
the endless and cold sea after a psychological shipwreck in which nothing ,
“a chance” or “spar” (a strong pole used for a mast) or “report of land”
could save her; not even a shimmer of hope in finding her “key”.
Comment 18 of 82, added on March 24th, 2011 at 9:57 AM.
you guys are gay ass bitches who lick camal toe go get a life. hahahahaha.
from United States
Comment 17 of 82, added on February 18th, 2010 at 5:17 PM.
everybody here are a bunch of idiots.she is reffering to death.explaining
how it feels.
angie from United Kingdom
Comment 16 of 82, added on January 24th, 2010 at 10:41 AM.
Oh, okay okay, I get it now! So she's talking about how sad she is to see
all the dead around her, and she's describing the feeling inside her by
saying what it isn't but feels almost like. For instance: "It was not
Death, for I stood up," but other than that, it could've been death. Does
that make sense? Thx for the help!
Abi from United States
Comment 15 of 82, added on November 24th, 2009 at 11:12 AM.
THIS IS THE BEST POEM EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Comment 14 of 82, added on October 29th, 2009 at 6:25 PM.
She's talking about how hard it is to describe this "it" which we only find
out to be despair at the end. She says everything that it isn't and then
some things that it is, but the only good explanation is the word itself,
Leah from United States
Comment 13 of 82, added on April 13th, 2007 at 12:40 PM.
This poem talks about how the speaker felt when she was having an illness
and can't describe it you jackasses!!!
Julio from United States
This poem has been commented on more than 10 times. Click below to see the other comments.
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