Monday's Poetry: "I Hear America Singing"

by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

If one forgets just how rich and beautiful the human tapestry of America really is, it just takes a few days on the road to serve as a reminder.  Utah with its friendly people, grand natural vistas, and impressive architecture has etched a significant wrinkle in my old brain.  Yesterday, well before dawn, I was sitting at a light rail terminal in Salt Lake City enjoying the company of two young people.  One was a college girl recounting a party she had been at the night before, and the other was a young man who was following the movement of our advancing train on his cell phone - and keeping the girl and I posted on the train's stops and its imminent arrival.

The city train dumped us at the airport twenty minutes later, and the place was aswirl with travelers grabbing hurried breakfasts, checking emails, making last-minute telephone calls and soaking up the morning news through television and the local newspapers.  One older couple had their little dog, Skippy, on a long leash that allowed him the reach to get out and introduce himself to many of the other travelers.  It was a hurried series of brief encounters as we all scooted past one another in our rush to get someplace else.

My horizons were widened by the trip out west, and all of those new experiences go into making me a little more representative of what America is all about.

Three years ago in this space I printed Julian Bond's famous reply to Walt Whitman's "I Hear America Singing,"  a beautiful verse entitled "I, Too, Hear America Singing."  Then last year, on Juneteenth, I ran another famous response to Whtiman's poem, this time "I, Too, Sing America" by Langston Hughes - a strong reminder that America encompasses more that just the caucasian race and culture.  Today, in looking back on the Bond and Huges' postings, I realized that I had been remiss and had never served up the original work to which they were responding.

Here then are all three, and taken together they truly do give a sense of the large and diverse nature of our great nation.

"I Hear America Singing"
by Walt Whitman

I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,
The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason signing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work,
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck,
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands,
The wood-cutter's song, the ploughboy's on his way in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundown,
The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the girl sewing or washing,
Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,
The day what belongs to the day -  at night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly,
Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs.


"I, Too, Sing America"
by Langston Hughes

I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

Tomorrow, 
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.

Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed - 

I, too, am America.


"I Too, Hear America Singing"
by Julian Bond

I too, hear America singing
But from where I stand
I can only hear Little Richard
And Fats Domino.
But sometimes
I hear Ray Charles
Drowning in his own tears
or Bird
Relaxing at Camarillo
Or Horace Silver doodling,
Then I don't mind standing
a little longer.


America is far more complicated and beautiful than just the view from my front porch.