My readers have the best words, as Donald Trump might say. Evidence for that comes from the caliber of the 2,750 poems submitted to my Trump poetry contest. With the help of the Poetry Society of America, I’ve picked my winners, and here they are, offering us a mix of humor, bite and hope.

Richard Kenney, a published poet from Port Townsend, Wash., offered “A Prayer”:

Dear Generals Three:

If he asks for The Football,

Link arms: Take a knee.



Lisa Grunberger, an associate professor at Temple University who is Jewish, wrote about the vandalism of her house in Philadelphia. An excerpt:

A “J” spray-painted on my olive green house in South Philly,

Its white-hooked tail grazes my daughter’s head.

A skinhead, says my neighbor Jorge,

Un racist blanco, no entiendo,

Holding my hand inside his hand

Far longer than any gringo would.

He smells of sawdust and cologne.

I shoot a picture with my phone

Of my daughter underneath the “J.”

Evidence is always good to gather.

She traces the letter with her small finger.

She’s just learning about how letters

Make words, and words make sentences.

Doesn’t yet know sentences can kill:

Arbeit macht frei. Sentences can lie:

Make America Great Again. Sentences

Can heal: I have a dream. She’s fished

A pen from my bag and draws a “K” beside the “J.”

Advanced Placement students at Pittsburg High School in a high-poverty part of the San Francisco Bay Area offered several excellent poems. Natalie Calderon, a 17-year-old Latina student, wrote “Deception”:

America, the so-called land of the free

But is it still free if I take a knee?

Our president wants to “Make America Great Again”

But keeps putting roadblocks in the path of equality

I’m worried things will only get worse from here

I adjure to feel secure but how can I when

My so-called leader is acting so immature

My hope in humanity is fading

Because of all the degrading

My heart hurts as racism is pervading

I feel anger in my soul as it anchors my stomach

My spirit is damaged by the baggage of hate I carry

But I must stay strong for the struggles to come

I just hope my pride doesn’t go numb

Many entries attacked Trump, but not all. John Zengel of Asbury, N.J., says he’s a conservative who disagrees with Trump but thinks Democrats need to drop the condescension. He wrote this poem, “Perspective From a Hard-Working American,” to reflect the thinking of his father:

What the liberal elite don’t get

Is that Trump speaks my language.

If that makes me a racist, so be it.

I’m a hard-working American.

You say you love the poor,

But your sympathy goes to Africa,

And my taxes are given to takers.

What about hard-working Americans?

Your tree-huggers are after our jobs;

Your “values” are after our families;

Your diversity is after our God

Threatening hard-working Americans.

So go ahead, ignore us “deplorables”

And laugh at his scandals, his stupidity, his immorality, his hair.

But who will be laughing in ’20?

Us hard-working Americans.

Some of the verse was despairing, but Michael Collins of Salem, Ore., wrote about making a difference in “No Matter How Small”:

I’m sorry for my tone, of late.

It’s tiring, decrying hate,

And likely tiresome as well

But ever since the hammer fell

And Trump ascended to the throne

I’ve told myself my voice alone

Won’t make a difference, but that I

Should not interpret that: Don’t try.

The Whos that only Horton hears

In Dr. Seuss’ book reached ears

Besides the elephant’s when they

Cried all together, so, O.K.,

I’ll keep on shouting, We are here!

A waste? Perhaps, but it’s sincere.

In a similar vein, Lee Robinson, a retired lawyer in Comfort, Tex., ended her elegy on an uplifting note. Her poem, condensed here, is called “Who Says Trump and Poetry Are Incompatible?”