freedom

"Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio." Hamlet ~ Shakespeare Barry, you return with a wonderful, strong poem of conviction. We blend energies well. And nothing ever happens without a reason that goes beyond what we can ever know in any given moment. America is built on the broken backs of a stolen people... Africa. America is a land stolen from the American Indian. The forefathers of this country spoke about Democracy while most had slaves and the blood of the red man still hadn't dried and the trail of tears, a walk into the future. I wonder when it (de)volved from an ideal of democracy to capitalist demagogy. I wonder if we can hear Langston Hughes: Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is free. (America never was America to me.) Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed-- Let it be that great strong land of love Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme That any man be crushed by one above. (It never was America to me.) O, let my land be a land where Liberty Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath, But opportunity is real, and life is free, Equality is in the air we breathe. (There's never been equality for me, Nor freedom in this "homeland of the free.") Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark? And who are you that draws your veil across the stars? I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart, I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars. I am the red man driven from the land, I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek-- And finding only the same old stupid plan Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak. I am the young man, full of strength and hope, Tangled in that ancient endless chain Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land! Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need! Of work the men! Of take the pay! Of owning everything for one's own greed! I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil. I am the worker sold to the machine. I am the Negro, servant to you all. I am the people, humble, hungry, mean-- Hungry yet today despite the dream. Beaten yet today--O, Pioneers! I am the man who never got ahead, The poorest worker bartered through the years. Yet I'm the one who dreamt our basic dream In the Old World while still a serf of kings, Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true, That even yet its mighty daring sings In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned That's made America the land it has become. O, I'm the man who sailed those early seas In search of what I meant to be my home-- For I'm the one who left dark Ireland's shore, And Poland's plain, and England's grassy lea, And torn from Black Africa's strand I came To build a "homeland of the free." The free? Who said the free? Not me? Surely not me? The millions on relief today? The millions shot down when we strike? The millions who have nothing for our pay? For all the dreams we've dreamed And all the songs we've sung And all the hopes we've held And all the flags we've hung, The millions who have nothing for our pay-- Except the dream that's almost dead today. 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, Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain, Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain, Must bring back our mighty dream again. 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! Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death, The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies, We, the people, must redeem The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers. The mountains and the endless plain-- All, all the stretch of these great green states-- And make America again! Langston Hughes ~A

I am free of word this morning ... sorry Barry cannot give you the effusive praise this deserves ... glad to see your back ... love and hugs Jayne-Chloe x x x

Great poem. Full of wit and poetically wonderful. Rosina xena465

I am stunned! You have produced a work that should be read by everyone. I hear the cry of freedom! Free us America! Take charge of your children. ~ Gee

Ann of Norway " shackling the cold mud to a dream of dried blood" So powerful, so dramatic, so.....well done Barry I will be back to study it more closely. Maybe! Good to see you I missed your face, love from your sister Ann.

How well you have put your point across with out the staine of rant! I love a good political poem and this fed my hunger for putting the world or even jusgt america to rights.... vix Optimism in adversity nutures positive outcomes