It was not Death, for I stood up (510)

It was not Death, for I stood up,And all the Dead, lie down -It was not Night, for all the BellsPut out their Tongues, for Noon.It was not Frost, for on my FleshI felt Sirocos - crawl - For Fire - for just my Marble feetCould keep a Chancel, cool -And yet, it tasted, like them all,The Figures I have seenSet Orderly, for Burial,Reminded me, of mine-As if my life were shaven,And fitted to a frame,And could not breathe without a key,And 'twas like Midnight, some -When everything that ticked - has stopped -And Space stares all around -Or Grisly frosts -first Autumn morns,Repeal the Beating Ground -But, most, like Chaos - Stopless - cool -Without a Chance, or Spar -Or even a Resort of Land -To justify - Despair.  

Emotional Pain? Indescribable Feelings, Shock

"was fitted on a frame and [she] could not breathe without a key." This metaphor reminds the reader of the stifling feeling in the throat and gasping for air, when one sobs violently but tears don't come

The feeling of shock is like hanging in the middle of space, outside of measured time.

Synaethesia

Words are not enough to describe how she feels/expereinces

A description of nothingLanguage against itself

Personification

Aliteration

Extremes of temperature, yet is neither

Defining what is it not

Loss

Prisoner, entrapment

On display?

Das

Dashes create pauses - 'stopped'

Chaos - anarchy - lack of order - reflected in written though use of dashes

Like a ship lost at sea, searching for civilisation, change, salvation

No hope to call this feeling 'despair' totally undefinable, so much worse

Use of full stop emphasises that words lack in her description. There is no uncertainty

(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

imprisoned in the frame of a coffin and getting ready for burial “shaven” of all things merry and “fitted to a frame” rigid, confined

Poem