EXCERPT

Introduction

The premise of "American Lyricon"* is my vision of America through her eyes and mine. A personal anthology, this is a poetic replay of my own travels and flights of fancy concerning my idea of the ideal American.

In the book, I have penned my experiences from Appalachia to the Rockies. Influenced by the Florida town where I live extending to the streets of New York, I have written of the American people, their music and ideals, and the struggles they have faced since the 1600s to the present.

As a teen, I was deeply inspired by the John Wayne classic recitation, "America, Why I Love Her." John Mitchum, actor, poet, singer, songwriter, and brother of the legendary actor Robert Mitchum, wrote this poem for Wayne. The first poem in this anthology, "Under Wide, Wide Skies," was prompted by the long-lasting effects Wayne's words had upon my soul.

Walt Whitman's "Leaves of Grass" served as a partial blueprint for this anthology. You will hear Whitman's words echo throughout, from the shipyards of Brooklyn to the San Francisco Harbor and songs of the open road.

Music plays a large role in my life. Woody Guthrie's "Pastures of Plenty" to Irving Berlin's "God Bless America" and Lee Greenwood's "God Bless the USA" to John Mellancamp's "Pink Houses" and Bruce Springsteen's "Born in the USA" are era-specific songs that have provided profound inspiration to my poetry.

In the 60s and early 70s, artists like Bob Dylan and Simon & Garfunkel's sang of America’s struggles. Thirty years later, country duo Brooks & Dunn reminds us that dreams still do come true, "Only in America." Song artists in America have always written songs in times of strife. America will prevail as Aaron Tippin sings, "Where the Stars & Stripes and the Eagle Fly."

Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, and Lawrence Ferlinghetti provide a framework for this anthology's poetical beatitudes. You'll hear echoes of Langston Hughes and protest poet and professor orator Amari Baraka (Leroi Jones) as well as Longfellow, Poe, Whittier, Strindberg, Frost, Robert Service, and Seigfried Sassoon.

Written in 1999, the long poem, "American Lyricon," is narrated as a series of monologues fashioned after the protest rallies of the 60s. The poem was written as a protest for what was going on at the time. Now after 9/11, questions are being raised again with confusion, frustration, and anger. There are no easy answers, though the fight will continue on all sides.

Most of the work in "American Lyricon" was written prior to 9/11 and was originally released as an eBook in early September of 2000. Since then, about a dozen poems have been added.

Two deal directly with the crises; one is a tribute poem and an ancestor of sorts to Emma Lazarus' "The New Colossus." Part of that poem was used on the plaque held by the Statue of Liberty.

Another poem, "Autumn (9/21/01)," originally titled "American Autumn," deals with the aftereffects of the 9/11 tragedy and the farming community, stressing that, above all, America is a family that gathers together and provides support in times of trial.

"American Lyricon" has received some positive critical attention, winning an Honorable Mention from the Clara Awards 2001.

I dedicate this book to our military men and women, the civil service workers, firefighters, policemen, EMTs, and others who serve, honor, and protect Americans. Ladies & gentlemen, I thank you.

I would be remiss in not mentioning my father who passed away ten years ago. I feature a tribute poem to him. This book is also dedicated to my immediate family, mother, brother, sister, relatives, friends, former teachers, and other inspirers who encouraged me when others thought I was a lost cause.

Joel L. Young - July 2002

*lyricon - a poem in a combined form

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Part One

Under Wide, Wide Skies
(Roots & Americana)

Under Wide, Wide Skies
(inspired by John Mitchum's America, Why I Love Her)

I
Should I sing of America
as my fathers have done?
I know not the land they have seen.
From shore to distant shore,
for evermore, new gospels
ring for hopeful spirit, ingrained,
that no anguish could ever break.
I stand for tomorrow to see a new gold sun
underneath wide, wide skies.

II
They'll be no more shame or sadness.
Such is the time I'll sing
beneath wide, wide skies.
America, America, I praise my right to be.
Give me a wilderness renewed in spirit
that makes our passions strong,
brings sanctuary to pioneers and pilgrims
who, with hard work, bring forth
this grand ideal no tyrant can overcome.

III
Let dreams expand forth from hearts and minds.
Let's take the dawn bridge and the twilight
and braid the two as one,
rebuild futures for children to dream
and lay foundations across the stars.
Give their children wide-open fields
To know there are worlds yet unexplored
Wildernesses preserved in their imaginations
to dream again under wide, wide skies.

Utopia - One Man's World
(An Immigrant's Story)

I was on an island of despair looking for the end.
John Donne told me to search for another Maine.
I pondered dark and deep to create a better state of mind
I packed my bags of lonely dreams and left. I found an island where the contemplative go and created my own state.

Thomas More appreciated my concerns—
"Vir Nemo Insula"—One Man's Island,
where no one kills, no one hates.
I subsist by my own hand, a Crusoe for a new age.

My treatise is to live, exist, and survive
by right and the will of my God.
My religion is nature. My friends are faith, hope,
decency, birds in the sky, and fish in the sea.

I've yelled at hurricanes and their mighty swells
to return where they came from,
back to their watery hells, to get out my sight.
I say this to anyone who is sick and tired,
from French Guyana to the river Seine.

Come live in peace, free from persecution,
free from a rat race stoned on false desires,
free from a world where killing never stops,
free where a man, woman, or child
can live in hope and not in a state of fear.

When your old world has unfound you,
you feel there is no way out take to your ship and sail.
You'll find a flag flying high where all dreams come true.
You'll have to farm and learn to sew
then reap the seeds for the food you grow.
Make friends with the seagull and ravens
from Plymouth Rock to Frisco Bay.
Raise tomorrows by the sweat of your brow,

build boats to cast your net into the brine,
then dine with nothing except the sands of time.
It's desolate, empty, lonely, and sad.
It's not an easy place to live in.

Madness will sway upon me like a sword
ready to drop at anytime.
I walk the beaches of this sacred land
in solitude. Winds howl and moan.

Dolphins salute my calls from the shore.
What concerns I have are my own.
I shall know when the time is right.

Though my ship stands ready,
I see no reason to return. This island is my home.

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