Let America be America again

We've made great strides over the last 70 years, but too much of what Langston Hughes wrote in 1938 is apropos today as well as then.

Let America be America again (1938)
--- 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!

Dr. Martin Luther King

"Gil Scott-Heron was ... a key figure in the movement to create a holiday celebrating Martin Luther King Jr. He's got a new book coming out called Last Holiday, all about the history behind the holiday. He talked with us about how Stevie Wonder toured the country back in the 80's trying to convince the country at that time that this needed to happen. Scott-Heron was with him on that tour."

--- NPR The Bryan Park Project 2008/01

Dr. Martin Luther King
--- Gil Scott-Heron (2008)

I suppose that I had honestly never given much thought
As to how much of a battle would have to be fought
To get most Americans to agree and to say
That there actually should be a black holiday.

But what a hell of a challenge
How far was Stevie willing to go
To make them pass an amendment
That had been left on the table ten years in a row.

I never doubted that Stevie was sincere
But how many minds had come together
In the past twelve years?

How many folks recognize how much America had to grow
And who else had been qualified to lead us where we had to go?

I liked the idea of a minister being around
When racing for such high stakes
To have his foot near the brakes.
Because of what really had gone down
Because America could have blown up
Before we ever had a chance to really say we had grown up.

Gandhi took non-violence with him when he died
Over here there was non-violence but only on one side
When white folks beat up and killed people that you knew
You decided to direct your anger at a building or two.

Instead of making the Old Testament a civil rights guide
And saying an eye for an eye would now be justified
We were told to accept that some white folks had no class
As opposed to condemning all the white folks en masse.

We determined that remaining peaceful was the best thing
And directing those feelings were men like Dr. King.

Through a storm of provocation to fight
We saw that in order to change America
You must change the law

We were called militant and radical and made to look bad
Because we were fighting for things that most Americans already had
But between what’s written and what’s done is the real thing
So America might not have made it without Dr. Martin Luther King.

Happy Birthday

A belated Martin Luther King Jr's birthday prop to the inimitable Stevie Wonder who more than anyone added the necessary impetus to make MLK's birthday a national holiday.



Happy Birthday
--- Stevie Wonder (1973)

You know it doesn't make much sense
There ought to be a law against
Anyone who takes offense
At a day in your celebration
'Cause we all know in our minds
That there ought to be a time
That we can set aside
To show just how much we love you
And I'm sure you will agree
It couldn't fit more perfectly
Than to have a world party on the day you came to be

Chorus
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday
(Repeat)

I just never understood
How a man who died for good
Could not have a day that would
Be set aside for his recognition
Because it should never be
Just because some cannot see
The dream as clear as he
That they should make it become an illusion
And we all know everything
That he stood for time will bring
For in peace our hearts will sing
Thanks to Martin Luther King

Chorus
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday
(Repeat)

Bridge
Why has there never been a holiday
Where peace is celebrated
all throughout the world

The time is overdue
For people like me and you
You know the way to truth
Is love and unity to all God's children
It should be a great event
And the whole day should be spent
In full remembrance
Of those who lived and died for the oneness of
all people
So let us all begin
We know that love can win
Let it out don't hold it in
Sing it loud as you can

Chorus
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday
(4x)

(Background Stevie)
Happy birthday Ooh yeah
Happy birthday,
To you

We know the key to unity of all
People
Is in the dream that you had so
Long ago
That lives in all of the hearts
Of people
That believe in unity
We'll make the dream become
A reality
I know we will
Because our hearts tell us so

Pieces of a Man

Been listening to Gil Scott-Heron’s back catalog on YouTube. Can’t help but realize how irredeemable our society is. So many years have gone by and his songs are as relevant now as then, if anything it’s only gotten worse. We can’t live on hope we need real change and its not happening.



Pieces of a Man
--- Gil Scott-Heron (1970)

Jagged jigsaw pieces
Tossed about the room
I saw my grandma sweeping
With her old straw broom
But she didn't what she was doing
She could hardly understand
That she was really sweeping up..
Pieces of a man

I saw my daddy greet the mailman
And I heard the mailman say
"Now don't you take this letter to heart now Jimmy
Cause they've laid off nine others today"
But he didn't know what he was saying
He could hardly understand
That he was only talking to
Pieces of a man

I saw the thunder and heard the lightning!
And felt the burden of his shame
And for some unknown reason
He never turned my way

Pieces of that letter
Were tossed about that room
And now I hear the sound of sirens
Come knifing through the gloom
But they don't know what they are doing
They could hardly understand
That they're only arresting
Pieces of a man

I saw him go to pieces
I saw him go to pieces
He was always such a good man
He was always such a strong man
Yeah, I saw him go to pieces
I saw him go to pieces

The Great Imperialist State

How to cope living in the belly of the beast? Self-recognition may be the first necessary step.



Great Imperialist State
--- Simone White (2007)

There's a farmer in a distant country working on the land
A hat upon his head and a shovel in his hand
Till the soil plant the seed wait a while cut the leaf
And send another cup of tea to me

I'm a spoiled child of the great imperialist state
I cannot kill my meat nor grow the food upon my plate
I never walked a mile to the well, when the tap runs dry do tell
What will become of you and me

What will become of us, who will give us trust
Will you believe me when I say I never loved profiting from your pain
That I felt shame when I looked the other way
Woke up this morning, the revolution knocking down my door
Those capitalist pigs? No, they don't live here anymore
Slipped out the back door into my car how far can you drive how far

There's a farmer in a distant country working on the land
Food turned into flowers for the uptown florist stand
What you saved another paid to turn his soil into sand
The world will not deliver on demand

What will become of us who will give us trust
Will you believe me when I say I never loved profiting from your pain
That I felt shame when I looked the other way

Wilmington, Delaware

Substitute today’s headlines for those of 70 years ago. Substitute Gaza for Madrid. Substitute drones for planes, carrying their deadly payload to Afghanistan and Pakistan. Now, however, we and our allies are the aggressors. How many times have we heard the plaintive cries of those who want nothing more than to live their lives in peace and simple comfort surrounded by mudden walls as bombs fell first in Korea, then Vietnam, and Cambodia, and Laos, and El Salvador, and Guatemala, and Venezuela, and Iraq and Afghanistan. But now we not only make them but deliver them as well.

Wilmington, Delaware
--- Eugene V. Etler

And when it was over
And the planes had left
And all was quiet ---
The living and the dead ---
Life went on
Uninterrupted.

And those who fled for shelter
Embarked out into the sun
And they lifted their fists
And cursed
The flying planes.

For these were their mortal enemies
These fliers of destructive death.
The children they killed
The women and men
Their blood that washed
The walls of Madrid.

And the plaintive cry of a mother’s wail
The silent grief of a husband’s dead
The bewildered look of an orphaned child.
The whining snarl of a hungered dog ---
A chicken’s feather lost in the air.

Look to it citizens of Madrid
Reap your living
And mourn your dead.
You who survive ---
In order to survive ---
Must fight for your land ---
Sweep away your dead ---
And make room for the living.

Here a child --- Dead
Here a woman --- Dead
Here a soldier --- Dead
Here a citizen --- Dead
Bury them
In the soil to be
Planted as seeds of Democracy.

The planes are gone
And work’s to be done.
This is your work
No one to help you.
The world of civilization
Has turned its back.
This is your fight, it said,
We shall have nothing to do with it, it said.

Nothing at all, it said
Neutrality, it said
Non-intervention
Non-intervention
Non-intervention
Until its words screamed
Its blood message.

Let Spain fight its fight
And if Germany interferes
And Spain becomes Italy’s career
That’s their business ---
We wipe our hands
Of the whole affair.

That’s what the world has said to you.
Democracy is a pretty sounding word
And the world of civilization
Has claimed Democracy as its own
And the pretty sounding word
Has been translated now

Into

The living come the dead
God, but long live the dead.
Dead from the bombing
Of fascisms coming.
Dead from Democracy’s lie
Our Democracies led them to die.
Hold up their heads to the shame
Bodies made dead and maimed
Democracy’s new found fame.

This crime with fascism they must share
This bomb made --- where?
‘Tis true -----
Wilmington, Delaware.

Baby Killer

Taken from the headlines over 70 years ago, this poem reflects the perennial issues associated with the life cycle of the impoverished. As the abortion debate continues unabated let us remember the fate that once befell those most vulnerable amongst us beset with an unwanted pregnancy. The scenario depicted in this poem could once again become stark reality if our modern misogynists have their way.

Baby Killer
-- Eugene V. Etler

They take a girl and put her on trial
For the killing of a baby she did not want.

They take her before a judge and twelve true men
And seat her before the eyes of the staring mob.
And they point their fingers with the scorn of the right
And they say with their eyes – You killed your baby.
Your one hour baby
You killed your baby
And then they question – Why?

And this girl she sits and looks at them
And wonders, too, at the reasons why
She had a baby and though she did
Whose business is it but her own
That she killed it before it had a chance
Of growing and discovery the hardships
One has to go thru living.

They take a girl and put her on trial
For the killing of a baby she did not want.

Why? cries the court
You killed, cries the court
You took a life, cries the court
You must pay with your life, cries the court
With your life! With your life! With your life!
cries the court!

Why did you kill, cries the court
cries the press
cries the mob
cries a land
cries a world
cries a girl
Why did I kill
Why did I kill a baby that I did not want?

It was born, she sobs, without any help.
I felt a pain, a terrible pain, I couldn’t breathe,
I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t walk,
I felt as if I was going to die.
You’re going to have a kid, I cried.
You’re going to have a kid, I screamed.
You don’t want anyone to know, I yelled.
So I went to the bathroom and there my baby
There my baby was born to me
Born to me and I looked at it and cried
I cried, what are you doing here
Who asked for you
And what am I going to do
Am I going to do with you?
And I talked and cried to it –
And I looked at its face, its ugly face,
And I sobbed when I saw its face
I sobbed and I said, you don’t belong,
And I felt very weak and needed some air –
So grasping my baby I went upstairs
Up five flights of stairs
Till I came to the roof
And I looked down below
And I feeling so weak
I fainted!
I didn’t kill my baby!
I didn’t want it,
But, I did not kill it –
I fainted!
I fainted!
You hear, I did not kill it!
I fainted and it fell those five stories high
And its just as well it did die,
But I did not kill it!
I didn’t! I didn’t! I didn’t!

And the district Attorney, he, looks at this girl
This girl that they put on trial
For killing a baby she did not want.
And this District Attorney so wise in the ways of the law
This District Attorney who knows right from wrong
Looks at this girl and questions so wisely:

You did not kill your baby?
No, cries the girl and in her innocence means –
No, she did not want it; but she did not kill it.
Ah, cries the District Attorney and he shouts his point.
And cries for the world to hear -----
No, you did not want it – so you went to the roof
And threw it down and watched it hit the pavement
You killed a baby because you did not want it!

Sane, logical District Attorney --- summing his case
To the logical point
Of a law maker
Who would send a law breaker
To jail
Or his doom in the chair
Logical, sane, maker and holder of the law District Attorney.

They take a girl and put her on trial
For the killing of a baby she did not want.

And the jury is wise
And the judge is wise
And the people is wise
The world is wise
And they condemn this girl
For her innocence in having a baby
And killing a baby
An hour old baby
A thing that did not know what it is to live.

Who is this girl?
What is this girl?
She epitomizes a world of girls
Caught in the clutches
Of a world that does not give a hooting damn
If they exist or don’t exist.

Her name is Mary Smith.
Take the stand Mary Smith.
What is your name Mary Smith?
Mary Smith ---
Ah, Mary Smith ---
How old are you, Mary Smith?
Seventeen!
Are you married, Mary Smith?
No!
Ah, she’s not married
And Mary Smith had a baby
An unwanted baby
A baby she killed!
You killed your baby, Mary Smith!
No!

Now, Mary Smith, I want to ask you a question ---
You know the father of your dead baby --- Mary Smith?
Yes!
Ah, you know the father of your dead baby --- Mary Smith.
Yes.
And who is the father?
And Mary Smith tells her story.

Listen, you jury
Listen, you court
Listen, you people
Listen, you world
You so wise who condemn this girl
For killing a baby she did not want.

A story of a girl who at the age of thirteen
Had to leave school and go to work
And the money she earned
Was not the money she earned
For this money had to go to her folks.

Innocent child of thirteen
Working and slaving under the tutorage
Of a boss, a foreman and a machine.
Turning out work and receiving for her work
A salary measly
Which she in return brings home to the folks..

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen – working in a factory.
Where are the pleasures that a girl needs?
Where are those things that a girl needs?
Clothes, cosmetics, friends and boys
Dates and pleasures of parties that a girl needs and wants.
Where are those things for a girl that works
Works all day and from the work she does
Receives in reality no pay at all.

Seventeen, attractive
Seventeen, a woman
Seventeen, feeling the urge of a woman
Seventeen, take away thirteen
Four years working
Four years slaving
Four years in a world
For an unmatured girl
Who should have been cloistered
Within the four walls of a school.

No security
Thus no ordinary pleasures
Meeting a fellow
An attractive fellow
A good time fellow
Who looks at a girl
And thinks of a mattress.

There is no harm!
We live but once!
There is no harm!
There is no harm!
There is no harm!

A kiss!
Bliss!
Biting of lips!
Body entwined into body
No ordinary pleasures
Extraordinary pleasures
With a fellow
Who thinks of a girl
As a mattress.

Mary Smith --- Seventeen
Four years in the world
Should know the ways of protection;
But Mary Smith who at the age of seventeen
If so inclined
Should have had the privilege
Of being secure
Of having an education
Of not being thrown
At the mercies
Of an uncompromising world.

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen
Not knowing what it is to live
Oh, sensuous pleasures
Oh, world, oh, life
To create such a function
For we live but once
We live but once!
We live but once!

And Mary Smith wants to live
Mary Smith has discovered a new meaning for living
Mary Smith forced by a world into a new found ideology
For her existence.

We live but once ---
Live twice Mary Smith
Live thrice, Mary Smith.

And then -------

No! No! No!

You must marry me!
God, can’t you see
I’m going to have a baby!
Why didn’t you tell me
That this would happen to me!

And then ----------

No! No! No!

I didn’t know ---
How was I to know
That you have a wife
God, what’s going to happen to my life?

Mary Smith, stand up.
Face the jury, Mary Smith.
Mary Smith you are found guilty
For murder in the second degree.

Twelve wise men have spoken
So ----- Mary Smith ----- guilty -----
You condemn this girl!

Ah, stupid jury
Stupid judge
Stupid people
Stupid world
You can’t condemn Mary Smith!
You can’t condemn Mary Smith!
For in condemning Mary Smith
You condemn yourselves
For allowing all Mary Smiths
To start their lives
Their young innocent lives
At the age of adolescence
To work! To work! To work!

These are children who are humans
These are children who you call the future generation
The makers of our nation -----
So you take them from schools
And you place them to work.
You demoralize their minds
You shatter their lives
You wreck their bodies
You lead them astray
And then you condemn them
For something to which you led them.

Condemn Mary Smith
No! Condemn yourselves
For that’s what you do
When you condemn Mary Smith.

Mary Smith --- that girl you put on trial
For the killing of a baby she did not want.