No Blue States or Red States
Free Verse — E Pluribus Unum
I have found no blue states or red states. I have crossed deserts and climbed Mountains — And swam in both oceans and stood on Purple clouds In Maine, South Dakota, Colorado, And white-water rafted the Snake and Arkansas Rivers, And climbed in the shadows of the Navajo And the Anasazi Indians. And cried on the Mighty Mississippi, Dreaming of Huck and Jim, And cried when I went from slave quarters To slave quarters in Charleston And mourned when visiting almost every Major Civil War battlefield — Gettysburg, Petersburg, Antietam, Fredericksburg, Manassas, Fort Sumter; Americans all, rebel and Yankee, Southerner and Northerner, Blessed under one Universal Calling that “We are all created equal.” God cares not for banners, colors, slogans, Or parties —
Only fools and despots and con artists and the swarm do.
I talked and laughed with great people of All backgrounds — Laughed in San Fran hostels in Chinatown In a language I didn’t know, But we all knew the language of smiles And good food — I gobbled lobster in Maine and drank the Best IPAs in Portland, I feasted on fry bread with Native Americans in Arizona, Hiked Sedona, the Tetons, and Black Elk Mountain in South Dakota. I saw no red or blue people, there.
Sorry. I’m just a little confused by this simple binary Color scheme.
I bicycled in Portland, Oregon. I swam in Malibu, on those awesome Beaches and the water so cold; I witnessed the sunrise on top of Cadillac Mountain in Maine — I had my first kiss in the Blue Ridge Mountains at Big Meadows — I tasted tea from a working tea farm in Charleston — I have tasted the waters of the Niagara — Marmots have attacked me during a snow squall on Long’s Peak in July — Rainstorms upended our tent in Florida — Generous people have helped me on the Road — Did I know their color or their party? Are we all our brother and sister’s Keepers.
I climbed Mt. Washington. I paid homage to Washington at Mt. Vernon. My daughter almost wrecked something Valuable at Monticello. The words of The Declaration of Independence can make me weep — I have read the works of great Americans, All,
Like Walt Whitman, And Carson McCullers and Frederick Douglass and Toni Morrison And Sherwood Anderson and Claude McCay and Mark Twain, And a thousand other great souls who saw America For what it could be if it only believed, And turned off the television and the hate.
Haven’t you seen — in the grave, we all Decay the same? Black or white, Hispanic or Asian, Catholic or Hindu — In the grave, we are all dust and bones and Nutrients — But I cannot be Chinese if I moved to China — I cannot be French if I moved to France — I cannot be Indian if I moved to India — But those who we welcome here can be Americans, And if you think that’s wrong, Well, why would I want to fight another Civil War? To defend the rights of people to live free From tyranny and oppression?
Politicians wear ties of red or blue. They play to their base. Their morals are Tied to stats and polls. Would any God play to stats and polls? And angry calls to interns who take those Calls.
But I am a man of conscience, That does not allow me to sell my conscience to the highest bidder — For the sake of a two-year window of re-election and pandering To the hate of the majority — Mob rules can be a majority — Like Thoreau, count me as a Majority of One.
Can you join, me, friend?
The media may make bank, Showing red and blue states on the Kubrickesque “Big Board,” But turn them off and such binary thinking! Let not their division rip us apart. Turn off the TV. And talk with your neighbor. Have a beer. Cook a burger. Just turn down the hate.
And if Jesus is your guide, then read the freaking gospel. I have. It’s good stuff. Highlight the Sermon on the Mount, And then preach to me about Hate — Would you crucify your own Saviour? Would you lynch your own neighbor? Would you torch your own morals, Echoing like a parrot the preachers of hate.
Turn, my friends, to American authors, artists, thinkers, and musicians. Think about what really makes America great, Like Louis Armstrong and Walt Whitman And Jackie Robinson and Emily Dickinson, And Cole Porter and Nat King Cole and Elvis And Robert Johnson and John Fogerty. Who can dislike Creedence, for God’s sake?
And You and Me and Our Neighbors, Whom we would never harm, So why do we harm them with our words and our votes? And with our animosity and anonymity?
Don’t shy away from knowing where we fall dramatically short, We need to become a more perfect Union for All. Don’t nibble at the stale ideas of the past, Like eugenics and social Darwinism and the German Bund — That leads to destruction. There are those who would glorify and profit from such destruction, From within and without. Know enough to know who seeks to do us harm In order to satisfy their selfish greed and power. Know a con man for a con man. Know a trickster god for the trickster. Know how they may use to gain and gain and gain, And leave you behind with the bill and with the guilt, That, somehow, you betrayed the promise of this great nation — And for what? For the false promises of blood and soil and flag and chants? Aren’t you better than this? Aren’t we better than this? Aren’t we that City Upon a Hill? Aren’t we all made up of the Statue of Liberty?
My German ancestor, Karl Goldhahn, Jumped ship as a merchant marine in New York City, And found freedom here in America, Where I now write as a free citizen, Loving all that this nation has endured — Knowing how much further we have to go — When it’s time to bid farewell to life and this land, Have you made America a better place, Or have you left it burning, like Rome?
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