To her divine majority present no more of
Herself, and gathers around those souls she’s sure of
Unmoved by pleas, aloof she’ll contemplate
She notes the chariots pausing at her gate
Unmoved and readied for the consequences that,
Though Emperors bow and kneel upon her mat
She will. not. have. Forsooth the Soul shall deign
To, only where the hearts are matched, remain
I’ve known her from an ample nation choose just One
Then close the valves of her attention like stone
What crowd could e’er replace the love now known;
To look into that One’s eyes and be home?
The prompt for today was to take one of Emily Dickinson’s poems and re-work it into something our own. We were meant to find a poem of hers we’d never read before, which was easy for me because I’m not sure I’ve EVER read anything of hers before. Even though I know she’s, like, Tha Hot Shit of American Poetry. Whatevs. I’m English.
BUT I did really enjoy this challenge and in looking through a bunch of her poems to choose one to alter, I found lots that I liked and many which spoke to me, so yeah…there’s a reason she’s Tha Hot Shit of American Poetry, and I recommend her to you.
The piece I used is called ‘The Soul Selects Her Own Society’ and can be found here in its original form.