![]() Listening to CoplandA Poem by riskrapper![]() when America was young a promise was made![]() ![]() 1. When I was young I listened to Billy the Kid I galloped across the living room floor giddy upping in an ecstatic square dance with my beloved America excitedly enraptured boundlessly enthralled in youthful zeal ebulliently yodeling hymns whistling reveries to America’s heroic prairie songs a precocious kinder beaming moved and illumined by the broiling fanfare of trilling trumpets to uphold the promise I pledged allegiance to diligent work galloping onward on ponies of reverent faith respectful duty playful engagement and guardianship 2. expectation never fell short of resounding supranaturalistic optimism energising the sweep of a nation’s self evident exceptionalism our democratic vista stirred and steeped a nation of wheelwrights building wagon trains to traverse stratified social latitudes with sturdy ladders erected with common sense sensibility of hands to work and hearts to God earthen yeoman farmers dancing in wheat fields threshing sheaves of prosperity their exertions elevating families raising a glorious chorus, a peeling crescendo of horns of plenty splayed across landscapes of an ennobled nation placing fruits of labor upon ascendent alters to to receive the anointing of abundance the lighted grace of infinite possibilities shines for a grueling world listening to the clamouring drumbeats sounding in the hearts of all grace anointed republicans 3. No lullabies no quiet moonlit nights we ardently dance on keys boasting soul filled dexterity the quick self assuredness extemporaneously jazz tapping across bold hidden rondos grasping transcendence squarely set in the minds eye of unbroken resolve our cool countenance an unassailable righteous destination any spare sweeping plaintive introspection lends space to affirm an affirmation beginning with the individual unum to e pluribus solitary dancers incorporated into fully enfranchised troopers the gyrations the rhythms and steps of individuated melodies join to form a harmonious whole a beautifully woven consensus this democratic symphony perfected in an intelligent choreography of separate people sojourning toward a mutually constructed shared destiny aspirational desires call forth generations of spirits boldly engaging the challenges upholding the rights and privilege of all citizens the celebratory harvest of a new nations natural law 4. As a man I cruise along Main Street in a joyless joy ride gliding by disassembled factories moldering schools defunct governments surveying the demolished ruins of cities, the decrepit wrecking ball of history is busy, rolling through towns not worthy of cast iron destruction forged in foreign kilns we built palaces to democracy in the tiniest hamlets dotting the granges wholly assimilated into a national congress of freemen today our congress is scattered dialog seeking resolution is considered betrayal to holy partisanship... selfish insistence masquerades as high ideals we have reduced the peoples house to a battlefield for tribes….. once freemen now captives…. soulless ghosts wandering lost inside grand rotundas... mocked by murals and inert granite statuary howling expiration dates of timeless psalms sojourning the trail of tears drinking from bowls of anguish our only respite the silent ruins we find impossible to leave fear fills our bellies rust stains our hearts abiding acrimony ain’t easily brushed from dust laden cloths the deconstruction of dead cities, mark expired civilizations centuries in the making hammered by the blows of the mightiest blacksmiths with precision and deft craft 5. the spareness of Martha Graham's set frame black shadows of fortitude it always starts with the individual then surely sure footedness measured footsteps boldly dance about the lily pads of the keyboard a resounding ballet the arms wave like swaying stalks of wheat but hurry to respond opportunity knocks conditions change the group awaits to be joined my pirouette remains my solitary mark on the weaving spindles crafting the mosaic of a complex American complexion the possibility the promise laid before us wheat fields of democracy tilled planted attended the wondrous yields of an Appalachian Spring the promise hectare of grace apportioned to all citizens the promise harvest of liberty freedom of opportunity all anointed freemen conferred an amazing grace civil discourse was once spoken we can learn the lost languages again sitting on the porch with neighbors sipping ice tea sharing thoughts on hot summer evenings caring too care but scoundrels became heroes we fetishized idiosyncrasies of insisted entitlement we damned the whole by exalting the part we dare not condemn them lest we condemn ourselves 6. the west was once woolly wild I hear the sweeping sound of my youth rustle again the dramatic symphony of a brilliant people filled with courage undeterred optimism claiming a continent manifesting a new Pax Americana a century of immigrants coming to integrate coming to assimilate coming to believe in the promise coming to make a new promise I came to hear Copland when I was young when America was young when promises were made and sworn by a brilliant fanfare of trumpets when America was young Copland composed when America was young a promise was made come forth brothers come forth sisters come claim the promise of a simple gift © 2013 riskrapper |
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Added on October 7, 2013 Last Updated on October 9, 2013 Tags: Aaron Copland, america, democracy Author
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