By Emmett Lee Dickinson: Your Reward for Running, is This. Your premium – Your Bliss – A Victory, more – A Landslide – would be rich – And Then – just Soar – When Votes are cast by Hand – With “You, Miss, You” – We’ll support Thee – Decisions powerful – decide this Race – Election – Vote – The Ballots of History, will show just that. | By Emily Dickinson: My Reward for Being, was This. My premium – My Bliss – An Admiralty, less – A Sceptre – penniless – And Realms – just Dross – When Thrones accost my Hands – With "Me, Miss, Me" – I'll unroll Thee – Dominions dowerless – beside this Grace – Election – Vote – The Ballots of Eternity, will show just that. |
Below on the left: Emmett Lee Dickinson's poem "Mine – by the right of the White Electorate" seems to have captured Donald Trump's unsettling "I alone can fix things" hubris. Dickinson's poem inspired third cousin Emily to pen her poem "Mine – by the right of the White Election," below on the right.
By Emmett Lee Dickinson: Mine – by the right of the White Electorate! Mine – by my Sex Appeal! Mine – by the Sign of my Bigly ego – Bars – cannot conceal! Mine – hear – my Vision – and my Sideshow! Mine – by the Way I’m Wigged – Entitled – Affirmed – Delirious Chatter! Mine – unless It's all rigged! | By Emily Dickinson: Mine — by the Right of the White Election! Mine — by the Royal Seal! Mine — by the Sign in the Scarlet prison -- Bars — cannot conceal! Mine — here — in Vision — and in Veto! Mine — by the Grave's Repeal -- Tilted — Confirmed -- Delirious Charter! Mine — long as Ages steal! |