Poems for Labor Day
Posted by Charles II on September 1, 2007
The first is excerpted from [one of] Langston Hughes’s best-known poem[s]. The second is mine.
Let America be America Again
O, let America be America again–
The land that never has been yet–
And yet must be–the land where every man is free.
The land that’s mine–the poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME–
Who made America…
Sure, call me any ugly name you choose–
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people’s lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!
O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath–
America will be!
–Langston Hughes
The American flag unseen (with thanks to Eli for encouragement)
The flag I follow is not the one you see
Ink-defaced by the tens of thousands at the Post Office,
Worn on the lapels of professional wolves, lobbyists, false patriots,
Slapped on the bumpers of people who go around with their rears in the wind.
My flag is woven not of cloth and dye, nor does it fade.
It is braided of life and liberty, of genuine freedom to try to capture happiness,
Its design is not only colored stars,
But also the meteors of independent thinking,
so beautiful as they cross this mad night,
And of the broad morning light of reason,
And its moon, persuasion, both of which will see us through.My flag bears not only stripes of red and white,
But the whole refracted rainbow of colors from which we are formed:
America. America. God’s grace shines from thee,
In dazzling rockets of reckless kindess to strangers,
In contrails of promises fulfilled, of age well honored, of wisdom valued.
My flag is held aloft not by iron, but by the Lady with the Lamp.
You may not yet see my flag, not yet, not yet.
Yet in the light of dawn you’ll see
It is the flag of the America that will be.
–Charles, 9/1/07, inspired by Romans 8:24
9 Responses to “Poems for Labor Day”
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shrimplate said
Well done, Charles. I hope you have a good weekend.
Avedon said
Damn, and all this time I thought his most famous poem was “What happens to a dream deferred?”
Charles said
Langston Hughes is one of those poets with several best-known poems, Avedon. Harlem, the one you quote, is mentioned as such here. while Esper says that it’s A Negro Crosses the River.
So, you’re right.
And, yet, “America” it will be.
Phoenix Woman said
Thanks for this, Charles. This is most excellent.
Charles said
It cost a few tears, Phoenix Woman, so thank you.
It began in a discussion thread on Calculated Risk. I got sick of hearing people carp about those who are in default on their mortgages– and raven about how they would enrich themselves by tragedy. And so I said I was sick of it, that the mortgage crisis is not a very large one right now, but that if we failed to extinguish it, it would grow, and the financial flames would lap around our own homes.
And, guess what? Other people were also sick of hearing the lust for destruction from the wolves hovering over the mortgage crisis, and pretty soon Tanta, who co-blogs with CR, did a thread with this header:
The thing I like best about the following video is how it provides a compelling visual metaphor for the hearts and minds of those who wish to convince themselves that business cycles are a secular morality play in which the Elect are rewarded and the Damned punished, and “we” is a meaningless pronoun because the only valid point of view is “I.” In a time of war, no less.
I thanked her for raising the real American flag and, lo and behold, the wolves realized that they were outnumberd by sheep, sheep that aren’t entirely stupid, even if they sometimes are callous and selfish. And so the wolves ingratiatingly sheathed their fangs just a little, and there was conversation.
This is how the poem came to be.
Avedon said
I thought I’d hit the wrong button or something when I turned off Winamp (which is running my favorite playlist), to watch the video. The song I turned off was Jackson Browne’s “Doctor My Eyes”.
Charles said
Now, that’s coincidence, Avedon.
You know, I have not been able to get Tanta’s video to play properly (I get the music, but not the visual). But she had me when she said in her post, “Don’t step on the cat.” I figure that people who don’t step on cats are probably people who don’t step on people.
Avedon said
There’s no video, just a black screen. That’s the metaphor.
Doctor, my eyes cannot see the sky.
Is this the price for having learned how not to cry?
Charles said
Ah.
I was truly blind, but now I see.