I felt a cleaving in my mind
As if my brain had split;
I tried to match it, seam by seam,
But could not make them fit.
The thought behind I strove to join
Unto the thought before,
But sequence ravelled out of reach
Like balls upon a floor.
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Comments
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seems like the poet has been in a depression and unhealthy mental state.
First stanza- She feels like her brain was splitting and she was trying to gather herself and could not succeed. She has described her condition in simple clear words.
Second stanza- She tried to follow her thoughts and the thought before, but was out of sequence. They were like balls on the floor- slipping away, discrete, incoherent and out of reach. -
I get the idea of missing information from this poem. It's like those times when you know you know the answer, you know what you want to say, it's right on the tip of your tongue but your brain just can't retrieve the words...
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understandably imaginative
I felt this poem had a meaning of Emily Dickinson going through a certain trial or tribulation that had 2 options on which she couldn't reach a verdict on. She reveald to have an answer but it was too far out of reach for her to grasp.
It is a poem I feel I can relate to that of which we all can relate to. In line 8 it defines how hard it is to pick up balls on a floor, but yet it can be done. Just with a little extra hard work.
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