Muses: Let America Be America Again [Langston Hughes 1936]

Let America Be America Again

Langston Hughes, 1902 - 1967

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!

This Is Dedicated to You [About Friendships]

About Friendships:

Somewhere out there

are a few friends of mine

who I haven't seen or heard from

in a long, long stretch of time

I want to say

too long

but that's not really fair

who knows how long forever is

when you stop caring to count the years

Sometimes I wonder if they're okay

if they're in pain

if they're happier now

if they're feeling sane

But I don't want to ask

To risk confirming

what we had

has been lost 

to memory

or worse yet

it's more than just their busy new life

beyond commitments and different paths

and all the things that might serve

as good excuses

for falling away

falling apart

the truth is

they simply

never wonder 

don't want to wonder

about you

anymore

at all

not now

maybe never again

I stopped being anything they needed

I wasn't everything they had
My memory did not bring them happiness

They no longer care what I think

and maybe never really did

Wait for the midlife crisis

when they want to feel young again

How you always wanted to feel

even when you were young

Wasn't that why you were friends

in the first place

Old souls want to be cool, too

Imagine them coming back

Friendships reinstated

Revived

Evolved

Let's share what we've learned
and change the world
like we wanted to
like we stopped believing we could

Instead of watching a life

All you loved

All you hated

All you missed

All you ever experienced

At least this time around

Crumble away behind you

into nothingness

only to be met

by more murky darkness ahead

Running
in place
at that point

that moment

that constantly shifting state of Now

where the two Nothings meet

you can hardly breathe
suffocating on dread
you almost want to give into it

writing trash poetry
as fast as you can
edit edit edit, post post post
before you lose your nerve
or temporary sense of humanity

repeating the same words too many times

trying to process your expletive existence

whenever you can't sleep

Because right this second

you're unemployed and lonely

and some might agree

weak

That is to say

I still miss you
Friends out there

Not that you have to care

But if you did miss me too

(Though come to think of it maybe neither of us have much reason to)

Well at least now this is here

And maybe someday you'll find it

And feel a little better

The way I wish I did

No, it's not a perfect ending

but nothing ever is

never ending

or perfect

now is it?