Beat Poem about America... Ginsberg inspired

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America the Beautiful?

Hip Hooray for America is what I sang,
Loud and proud with my classmates.
Did I want to? No, but I wanted that solo.
This land is my land, my land I tell you.
I my say there should be equality, and that we are all equal. Well, we may be. But who really cares anyway? I sure as hell don’t.
If you get pregnant at 16. What do I say? “Good thing it wasn’t me”. Or “Ew”.

Every man for himself, right? Capitalism is the basis of a world run by a black man. Did he earn it or did the black voters put him there. Electoral college, like the center of a Tootsie Pop, the world will never know.

Do I think I do a thing? That’s my mother’s job. They pay the bills. That’s my parents’ job.
War, huh? What is it really good for?
But, hey, who cares as long as no one’s bombing me.
I’ll leave that stuff for the 1 percent. Everyone else is too busy wearing their Uggs, Timbs and yoga pants. Hell, a month ago Timbs were just “shitkickers”; now, they’re fashion.

America for spacious skies filled with smog. On any given day in NYC, The UN flies the flags of nations we are unable to see.
That’s air pollution for ya. That’s our fate.
That’s all the hot air a’driftin’ on over from D.C, ‘cuz they’ve got too much to spare.
The wear and tare of men in coats fighting in big important chairs. It’s a boxing match between a donkey and an elephant.
A democrat might see it as the tortoise and the hare.

What’s love in America?
Is it Anita Moreno singing on a rooftop? Is it Marlon Brando talking to Frank Sinatra in a sewer, playing craps? Robert DeNiro in an old porno theater. Well, what’s love go to do with it? That was a song once.

Now it’s Katy Perry in a bra made of cupcakes and Ke$ha doing blow.
What happened to Janis Joplin and Jim Morrison? Hell, they were doing blow too. But they knew how to love.

Bob Marley had one love.
So did the Beatles. They were teachers. Teaching those corporate puppets, “Money can’t buy me love”.
But then again, Rush Limbaugh isn’t “The Walrus”.

I’m proud to be an American where at least I know I’m free. Am I? Well I know I’m sure as hell free. But am I proud?

I know I’m happy, but proud is a little different. I don’t hear anyone saying they’re American on a college app;
Only when they come back from Iraq.

Takes one to know one doesn’t it? An American? Well, I don’t know any. America is trash. Trust me, the government’s working hard, but have you met the people?
Trashy, scummy, swearing, “ain’t”– saying hicks.

Not something to be proud of, that’s for damn sure. There are the few, but now we’re back to the 1 percent. They aren’t all Goldman Sachs CEOs. Give ‘em some credit, or why don’t you do something about the state of the Union?





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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

stillhuman said...
Mar. 24, 2012 at 2:12 pm
Beautiful poem. But may I say that we "ain't" sayin hicks are proud. We founded this country and we will live on this dirt till the world comes to an end!
 
WrittenEmotions said...
Mar. 22, 2012 at 8:07 pm
I like it! Very good
 
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