The Belle of the Rodeo

Last week at the Grammy Awards, Beyonce became the first Black woman to win “Best Country Album.”

Hmm…that made me wonder what Emily Dickinson’s poetry would be like if she had written them in the style of country music lyrics.  WHAT IF she’d been born in Tennessee in 1930 as Emmy Lee Dickinson?

Instead of “If I can stop one heart from breaking,” we might have “Iffin’ I can stop one heart from bustin’; and instead of “There’s a certain slant of light,” we might have “The light can git all catty-wampus.”

So, without further ado, I present the poems of Emmy Lee Dickinson – Emily Dickinson’s poetry re-written with a country twist.

EMILY DICKINSON:

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

REWRITTEN BY EMMY LEE DICKINSON:
 
Iffin’ I can stop one heart from bustin’
But cain't never did cuz cain't never tried;
Iffin' I help ya when you feel you've been
​         knocked into next week
Or cure what ails ya,
Or help tow yer old truck
Into the back yard,
But cain't never did cuz cain't never tried.

---

EMILY DICKINSON:
 
There's a certain slant of light,
On winter afternoons,
That oppresses, like the weight
Of cathedral tunes.

Heavenly hurt it gives us;
We can find no scar,
But internal difference
Where the meanings are.
 
None may teach it anything,
'T is the seal, despair –
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the air.
 
When it comes, the landscape listens,
Shadows hold their breath;
When it goes, 't is like the distance
On the look of death.

REWRITTEN BY EMMY LEE DICKINSON:

​The light can git all catty-wampus
When it’s colder than a well digger's bum,
It oppresses like the weight
Of an out o’key church hymn.

Good Heavens to Betsy;
We’re fit to be tied
But it don’t mean diddly squat
Iffin we all git addled beside.
 
None is learnin' nothing
And we’re feelin’ much despair –
Be deader than a doornail
Iffin we don’t take care.

It seems that hell is freezin’ over
As the shadows are all froze;
For it’s like the distant look on
           gramma’s face
When she settled after throes.