Collage Poem
After Langston Hughes

Who are you that draws your veil across the stars?
I am the obsidian galaxy of resilience.
There’s never been equality for me.

I am a raindrop of democracy,
in search of what I meant to be my home.

I am the eye of truth.
I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream.

I am the chrysanthemum of kindness
and all the hopes we’ve held
and all the songs we’ve sung.

I am the one who mumbles in the dark
who hold the parchment of courage
where never kings connive nor
tyrants scheme.

I am the smoke mist of a dream
so strong, so brave, so true
that dares to sing mightily
of the people, land, plants, rivers
that stretch across the canyons of
all the hopes we’ve held
and lead us to be free.

What is this America?
After Langston Hughes

America is eating blood and gold
America is lies, and bribes, and a lousy peace
America is beating [us, them, the kids]
with laws born of fear
and meant to frighten even more

America is letting the Whites, Filipinos,
Blacks, Mexicans die
in the streets, in their houses, in each other’s arms

America is no monument to love
America is bodies lost in a swamp
America is drowning its people
with blood and stones so they don’t get wise
to their own power
America is bribe-loving, money-loving,
old and rich and sleazy

America could be holding a monument
to all kinds in its heart
America could be a rushing river
of joy and laughter, where the
masses gather as a testament
to their power, a living monument of love

America could be many hands
clasped as one, singing a song
they wrote—a song
that reaches beyond the sky

America could be a song triumphant
if only the kids didn’t have to die.

Susan Scheid is the author of two books of poetry. She is a recipient of several Artist Fellowships from the DC Commission on the Arts and Humanities. Read more at: www.susanscheid.com.

From the I, Too, Am America Project, selected for publication in the Amplify US Literary Journal