The Hazel Jones Show: Re-Birth of a Nation
To kick off National Poetry Month, Hazel Jones recites “Rebirth of a Nation,” an original poem written by David McMillan. (If you’d like to read the poem, see below.)
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For those of you who still read, here’s the text of the poem:
Rebirth of a Nation
by David McMillan
America
Imperfect nation
Impatient nation
Always in a hurry to get from here to there
Even though you’re going nowhere
You haven’t been before
America
Resourceful nation
Rhythm nation
Always managing to keep up with the times
Whether by way of crimes and misdemeanors
Or through nobler means
America
Birth of a Nation
Rebirth of a nation
Each generation
Redefining
Realigning
Recombining
So that my country ’tis of thee
Sweet land of liberty
Actually includes you and me
America
It sure ain’t what it used to be
But just what is America?
A melting pot
A Promised Land of slot machines and broken dreams
Where nothing is quite what it seems
Except on MTV
Where Elvis is king, and Martin Luther King
Is just another day off in January
Where distraction is the natural reaction
To dissatisfaction
Where Michael Jackson
Even in death can’t be left alone
Where the quest for an app or a ring tone
For your fancy new cell phone
Is where we invest
The energy
We used to invest
In being free
Because we’ve confused
Being free
With buying stuff
But no matter what we buy, it ain’t never enough
To make us truly happy and truly free
America
It sure ain’t what it used to be
But perhaps we can take a lesson from history
Abraham Lincoln once said:
“A house divided cannot stand”
The history of black folks in this land
Is the history of moving from house to house
From the slave house
To the big house
To the crack house
To the White House
And yes, perhaps even a detour to Big Mama’s House
Because even downtrodden people need to laugh
The history of black folks in America
Is the history of freedom in America
It’s the history of moving from house to house
So that we could find a home
America
Imperfect nation
And yet, just the same, it’s still my nation
It may not be the Promised Land
But it’s the land I call home
Divided
Multi-sided
Irrevocably united
By fate and chance and history
A land
Now led by a man
Who’s neither hero nor saint
But who’s at least put a fresh coat of paint
On that tattered old house called Liberty
America
It sure ain’t what it used to be
And Lord, thank God it ain’t
Duration : 0:3:2
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