Category: Trump Coverage W/Poetry - The Emmett Lee Dickinson Museum

White Noise

7/15/2019

From our political correspondent, Dorothy Dawe:

Remember when the GOP used to claim a monopoly on family values? Those days are l - o - n - g gone. Of course, the family value crusade was all a charade so it is no surprise that the GOP response to Donald Trump’s recent racist rhetoric has been tepid (at best).

Trump and the GOP have tossed out the dog whistles. Now they’ve brought out the bull horns.

Trump tells four congresswomen of color to ‘go back’ to their countries? This is classic racist lingo – the hallmark of the white supremacist.

And the GOP response?

**insert crickets chirping **

All of this calls to mind Emmett Lee Dickinson's now-classic poem "The words the racists say" (below on the left). Dickinson's poem inspired third cousin Emily to pen her poem "The words the happy say" (below on the right).

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

The words the racists say
Are putrid calumny
But those who silent stay
Are horrible –

By Emily Dickinson:

The words the happy say
Are paltry melody
But those the silent feel
Are beautiful –

Below: Donald Trump addresses the press about his racist comments.

Great Expectations

6/18/2019

From our senior book reviewer, Philo Remington:

The annual ALA Conference starts on June 20th in Washington, DC, and this year's theme is "The Criminals Are In Charge. Lets Throw The Books At Them."

A list of "what you can expect" at the conference was released today (below), and we at the Emmett Lee Dickinson Museum were pleased as punch to learn that a symposium on Emmett Lee Dickinson's visionary poetry would be one of the offerings.

The presenter of Dickinson's poetry will be none other than the Chairman of the Board of Directors of the Dickinson Organization of Poetry Enthusiasts, Dorothy Dawe. Ms. Dawe plans to open her presentation with Dickinson's now-classic poem "We never know how low they'll go" (below on the left). Dickinson's poem inspired third cousin Emily to pen her poem "We never know how high we are" (below on the right).

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

We never know how low they’ll go
Till we’ve amassed their lies
And then if they are true to plan
We must vote out these guys –

The Dogmatism we endure
Is not a normal thing
Are not there Checks and Balances
For fear we’d have a King –

By Emily Dickinson:

We never know how high we are
Till we are asked to rise
And then if we are true to plan
Our statures touch the skies –

The Heroism we recite
Would be a normal thing
Did not ourselves the Cubits warp
For fear to be a King –

For more information on this year's ALA conference, click HERE -- and stay tuned to our updates! Our next post will highlight many of the literary-themed cocktails that will be available at the conference.

For information on past conferences, click HERE.

For more information on Trump's Presidential Lie-braries, click HERE.

Foot Soldier

5/27/2019

From our current affairs editor Lemuel Stuart III:

Donald Trump was able to lead today's Memorial Day Parade in Washington, DC, thanks to the launch of the Trump-Brand Bone Spurs Mobility Unit.

Below: Trump rides in the 2019 Memorial Day Parade in Washington in his new Trump-Brand Bone Spur Mobility Unit, the BS-2020 model.

Below: Trump's doctor, Sean P. Conley of the US Navy, advised against Trump participating in the parade unless the Trump-Brand BS-2020 Bone Spur Mobility Unit would be ready for the President to ride:

The pain of Donald Trump's bone spurs is real, and such pain was accurately described in Emmett Lee Dickinson's poem "No Rack can torture me" (below on the left). Dickinson's poem inspired third-cousin Emily to pen her poem with the same opening line (below on the right).

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

No Rack can torture me –
My Foot – a Saboteur –
Beneath its mortal Bone
There sits a bitter Spur –

One cannot slice with saw –
Nor prune with Scimitar
My Bone Spurs – therefore be –
My Gloom – My Misery –

The Eagle from his Nest
No easier divest –
And gain the Sky
Than mayest I –

Except My Foot may be
Mine Enemy –
Captivity and Confinement –
My Destiny

By Emily Dickinson:

No Rack can torture me –
My Soul – at Liberty –
Behind this mortal Bone
There knits a bolder One –

You cannot prick with saw –
Nor pierce with Scimitar –
Two Bodies – therefore be –
Bind One – The Other fly –

The Eagle of his Nest
No easier divest –
And gain the Sky
Than mayest Thou –

Except Thyself may be
Thine Enemy –
Captivity is Consciousness –
So's Liberty

For more on the president's bone spurs, click HERE. HERE, and HERE.

You Are What You Vote

5/25/2019

From our political correspondent Dorothy Dawe:

There was a Ku Klux Klan rally yesterday in Dayton, Ohio. Ohio went Trump in the 2016 presidential election.

A white nationalist who unsuccessfully ran for a Congressional seat in Tennessee under the slogan "Make America White Again" is holding an event on the University of Tennessee-Knoxville's campus this week. Tennessee went Trump in the 2016 presidential election.

Back in 2016, the Klan held a victory parade in North Carolina to celebrate the election of Donald Trump. North Carolina went Trump in 2016.

The old adage "You are what you eat" is no where near as true as "You are what you vote."

The rise in hate crimes since the election of Donald Trump -- and the rise of emboldened Klansmen and neo-Nazis across the county -- calls to mind Emmett Lee Dickinson's "The Klan selects its own Society" (below on the left). Dickinson's poem inspired third cousin Emily to pen her poem "The Soul selects her own Society" (below on the right).

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

The Klan selects its own Society –
Then – shuts the Door –
To their “divine” Majority –
They take no more –

Unmoved – they note their Spurious –
causes –
To their low base –
Unmoved – their Emperor keeps tweeting
Lies just in Case –

Dishonor – for our ample nation –
And Pain –
They -- chose the Value of distraction –
For Gain –

By Emily Dickinson:

The Soul selects her own Society –
Then – shuts the Door –
To her divine Majority –
Present no more –

Unmoved – she notes the Chariots –
pausing –
At her low Gate --
Unmoved — an Emperor be kneeling
Upon her Mat --

I've known her – from an ample nation –
Choose One –
Then – close the Valves of her attention –
Like Stone –

Bye, Bye, Birdie

4/8/2019

From our current affairs editor, Lemuel Stuart III:

As evidenced above, windmill cancer survivor George Conway can be tough on Trump, the Swamp King; however, he should give credit where credit is due: If it were not for Donald Trump, the dangers of windmills and windmill cancer would not be at the center of national attention.

Below: Various tweets from Twitter highlighting the new focus on windmill cancer that has grabbed the nation's attention -- thanks to Donald Trump!

Below: Cancer is not the only danger associated with windmills:

The word "windmill" literally comes from two Dutch words for "bird" and "killer":

windmill (n.)
c. 1300, from wind + mill, from German windmühle, from Dutch wyntmorten, or wynt (“bird”) + morten (“killer”)

In the 1500s and 1600s, the Netherlands were being overwhelmed by birds, including the bar-headed goose, the lesser white-fronted goose, the tundra bean goose, the common shelduck, and the ferruginous pochard. As a result, Dutch inventor Henk-jan Schoonbeek invented the "wyntmorten," or "bird killer" -- known today as the windmill.

Pictured at the right: Dutch inventor Henk-jan Schoonbeek invented the "wyntmorten," or "bird killer"

Poet Emmett Lee Dickinson (Emily Dickinson's third cousin, twice removed -- at her request) knew of the power of the windmill in controlling the bird population, and he wrote about it in his poem "How ruthless are the windmills" (below on the left). Dickinson's poem inspired third cousin Emily to pen her poem "How ruthless are the gentle" (below on the right).

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

How ruthless are the windmills –
How cruel are their kind –
Odd how their contacts with the Birds
Do brutalize the Wind –

By Emily Dickinson:

How ruthless are the gentle –
How cruel are the kind –
God broke his contract to his Lamb
To qualify the Wind –

Barr Examination

3/26/2019

From our political correspondent, Dorothy Dawe:

A liar. Collusion to commit a crime. A report that won't be made public.

The Jussie Smollett case? No. Donald Trump.

So Mueller's dropped off his report to the DOJ. William Barr -- a Trump accessory who claims a president is above the law -- has summarized the report (below left): Nyet collusion. No release of the report. Talk about transparency.

Trump was at the Capitol today crowing like an "exonerated" jail bird (below right).

This is America? A president can't be indicted? The criminals are now handed the evidence -- and they determine what we will and will not see? Comrade McConnell won't allow a Senate vote?

This -- sadly -- is America.

The criminals are in charge, and they have been handed the evidence. We may NEVER know the truth.

The whole sordid affair calls to mind Emmett Lee Dickinson's poem, "Because they could not tell the Truth" (below on the left). Dickinson's poem inspired third cousin Emily to pen her poem "Because I could not stop for Death" (below on the right).

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

Because they could not tell the Truth –
The truth was never told –
The Cover Up by just Themselves –
Was Fake News they controlled.

He ranted on – He knew just hate,
He should be put away
His labor is his ballyhoo,
His Incivility –

He passed it Off, as Orphan care
It had – a rosy ring –
He promised Health Care from Day One –
He promised Everything –

Or rather – He conned Us –
The News brought shivering and chill –
For Angrier, we’ve Grown –
Our Patience – has grown Thin –

We voted in a House that seemed
A Swelling from the Ground –
The Senate scarcely visible –
Complicit – with this Clown –

For now – feels centuries – and yet
’Tis shorter till the Day
We all surmise the Final Count
That is Twenty-Twenty –

By Emily Dickinson:

Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.

We slowly drove – He knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility –

We passed the School, where Children strove
At recess – in the ring –
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –
We passed the Setting Sun –

Or rather – He passed Us –
The Dews drew quivering and chill –
For only Gossamer, my Gown –
My Tippet – only Tulle –

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground –
The Roof was scarcely visible –
The Cornice – in the Ground –

Since then – 'tis centuries – and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity –

The Lady Is A Trump?

3/9/2019

From our current affairs editor, Lemuel Stuart III:

"Fake Melania" theories arose in 2017 when it seemed that Trump was traveling with a body-double for the First Lady. The suspicion resurfaced this week when Trump traveled to Alabama to see first hand the devastation brought on by destructive tornadoes there. The hashtag #FakeMelania began trending after this photo was published:

The White House was quick to deny that Trump was traveling with a body double.

"The First Lady saw some purple hair coloring at the Walgreen's on 14th Street," said Sarah Huckabee Sanders, "so she insisted that she have her hair done in that color before traveling to Alabama. The woman in the photograph is, in fact, Melania Trump."

Hmm. I'm not so sure.

The entire affair calls to mind Emmett Lee Dickinson's poem "A doubt if it be Her" (below on the left). Dickinson's poem inspired his third cousin Emily to pen her poem "A doubt if it be Us" (below on the right).

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

A doubt if it be Her
Persists in staggering Minds
In a bizarro Angle
A fake the photo finds.

An Unreality is learned
A possible Mirage
That makes the whole thing possible
While she supports his lies.

By Emily Dickinson:

A doubt if it be Us
Assists the staggering Mind
In an extremer Anguish
Until it footing find.

An Unreality is lent,
A merciful Mirage
That makes the living possible
While it suspends the lives.

Living Like A King

2/16/2019

From our political correspondent Dorothy Dawe:

In a gross abuse of power -- permitted by a GOP that continues to allow our country to slide toward authoritarian rule unchecked -- Donald "L'Etat, c'est moi" Trump declared a fake emergency to amass US tax dollars to pay for a racist monument dedicated to eroding American values.

This blunder is certainly a crowning glory for the stooge who would be king -- and that calls to mind Emmett Lee Dickinson's poem "This Blunder is incredible" (below on the left). Dickinson's poem inspired third cousin Emily to pen her poem "The Blunder is in estimate" (below on the right).

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

This Blunder is incredible
“Emergency” is here
He says, as of our Nation –
Meanwhile he is hot air

He goes on with his Ramble –
Divides a land that’s free –
No End his Lie that so persists
With this “Emergency”!

By Emily Dickinson:

The Blunder is in estimate.
Eternity is there
We say, as of a Station --
Meanwhile he is so near

He joins me in my Ramble --
Divides abode with me --
No Friend have I that so persists
As this Eternity.

For more comments and poetry on Trump's fake national emergency, click HERE.

Fake News

2/15/2019

From our political correspondent, Dorothy Dawe:

A National Emergency?

What. A. Load. Of. Crap.

I repeat:

What. A Load. Of. Crap.

The Charlatan-in-Chief conned and colluded his way into the White House, and his number one ruse: What are we going to build? A wall (with a great, big, beautiful door). And who's going to pay for it? Mexico!

The MAGA idiots fell for this con like flies on a pile of orange dog crap.

Now the Fraud-in-Chief, who couldn't even close a deal with Monty Hall, has declared a National Emergency.

What. A. Load. Of. Crap.

I cannot believe the our tax dollars are now set to pay for the vanity project of a moron. What a COLOSSAL waste of money.

The entire scam calls to mind Emmett Lee Dickinson's poem "Conjecturing a Crisis" (below on the left). Dickinson's poem inspired third cousin Emily to pen her poem "Conjecturing a Climate" (below on the right).

By Emmett Lee Dickinson:

Conjecturing a Crisis
For unsuspecting Fools –
Adds urgency to Why We –
Are Shivering from this move

To a suspicious Country
To satisfy a Toad –
Who bloviated by Degree –
And erased – our Rectitude –

By Emily Dickinson:

Conjecturing a Climate
Of unsuspended Suns –
Adds poignancy to Winter –
The Shivering Fancy turns

To a fictitious Country
To palliate a Cold –
Not obviated of Degree –
Nor erased – of Latitude –

Cave Man

1/26/2019

From our political correspondent Dorothy Dawe:

Trump caved. He shut down the government for 35 days -- caused chaos with our government and turmoil with 800,000-plus government workers (and countless others in their communities) -- and then agreed to re-open the government. For what? Nothing more than an attempt to impress right-wing opportunists Rush Limbaugh and Ann Coulter.

So now he's agreed to re-open the government for THREE weeks. If no "deal" is reached (and of course, he continues to tweet incessantly about the wall), he'll shut the government down again and (maybe) declare a "national emergency." Yeah, right. A national emergency that 27% of the country supports.

I loved the irony that Trump "caved." The term inspired me to pen two haikus:

Trump finds out the truth:
It's easy to circumvent
A wall with a cave.

A new year's begun.
Trump has earned a new title:
Spelunker-in-Chief.

It is highly likely, though, that Trump's wish will come true. A wall is coming. It just might be a prison wall for him:

For more information on Donald Trump's search for "Wall Dough," click HERE.

If you are interested in more haikus about the Trump family crime syndicate, check out Mary Steinberg's When They Go Low, We Go Haiku (pictured at the right). Information about the book is HERE.