Anglo-American Poet
Many great Masters have taken flight
To America, leaving this Island of green...
Satisfying life's ambition to capture
The International scene.
America may offer citizenship
With a place in the main A stream
But after a short while 'home' is calling
When many great men return to the fold
Then referred to as 'Anglo-American'
As was ordained in days of old.
One such poet from an English town
Wystan Hugh Auden,20th Century
Anglo-American Poet of much renown.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Related quotes
A poet's hope to be, like some valley cheese, local, but prized elsewhere.
quote by Wystan Hugh Auden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This is America: Better know English
America was once the magnificent place
Where all immigrants wanted to escape
So they illegally come here, as illegal aliens
Hiding in the back of our American vans
Now our schools and jobs require multiple languages
When we’re the Americans, we’re supposed to speak English!
And we do and just because they don’t
Doesn’t mean their language is a demand we should know
Don’t come to America if you don’t know the language
I’m just being realistic, I’m not being racist
Don’t put up store signs if they’re not readable
You’re in America; English is the main language you should know
Then they’re pissed because people won’t help out their business
But their forgetting us Americans don’t speak their language
We don’t go to Mexico demanding English classes
So why should they own the right to demand us Spanish?
I love the language, and everything BUT
THIS IS AMERICA look our history up!
Then tell me if French should be required
Where in the hell in the time line is that desired?
I know this is the land of opportunity, land of the free
But we should be able to communicate as human beings
And if that’s just too hard no one said they had to stay here
They can go back where they came from and speak in harmony there
I’m just a full blood American, as so the rest of my family
And like others, our language should be the first they’re demanding
We're tired of going to our fastfood restaurants to eat
When the orderer of our order can't even speak
And buyers, don't buy our house
If you can't even pronounce our street out
I'm tired of security going through all our private equipment
I'm an American, Bitch, do I look like a terrorist?
Honestly, you can come here if you want to be
Since this is the best place of opportunity
And we don’t care if you speak 20 different languages and love them
But this is AMERICA, ENGLISH better be one of them!
poem by Sugar Bear
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America, So Beautiful.
Why is America the beautiful,
So beautiful?
It's because of German Polkas, and beer.
It's because of Irish corned beef, and potatoes.
It's because of French wines, and escargot.
It's because of soul food, from the hood,
The kind you find in Big Momma's,
In Cathedral City California.
It's because of Mexican food,
And the Mariachi's that accompany it.
It's because of the Hawaiian Poi,
And the Alaskan, fish ice cream.
It's because of the Italian Operas,
And spaghetti and meat balls.
It's because of the English language,
Brought to America,
By the subjects of the king.
America is blue eyes,
America is green eyes,
America is black eyes,
America is brown eyes,
America is blond hair,
America is red hair,
America is black hair,
And my all time favorite,
America is brown hair.
America is Japanese sushi,
America is Chinese hot and spicy soup.
America is mountains,
Beautiful snow covered mountains,
Shining in the sun.
America is deserts,
Hot arid and unforgiving,
And filled with life.
America is forests,
That extend,
'From sea to shining sea.'
America is ingenuity,
Great minds, from all over the world,
Reach their great fruition,
In America.
Where they are free.
Why is America the beautiful,
So beautiful?
It's because America is a rainbow,
Red, white, black, yellow, brown,
And all the myriads of colors,
These main colors produce.
It's so cliche to say,
We are a melting pot.
I prefer to say, What the great Bill Murray said.
'We are a mongrel race.'
Yet nothing on God's green Earth,
Is more loyal, more faithful, more loving,
And more devoted,
Than the mongrel.
America the beautiful.
poem by Juan Olivarez
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Being A Poet
being a poet
is not an ambition
it is ironic
that i do poetry and
yet i do not want
to be called a poet
nor be identified with
any movement in poetry
nor take the challenge and opportunity
of being crowned by laurel leaves
and be dragged on the stage of
an island of light focusing my head and body
and they shall all clap and say
this is the poet, this is our poet
not in the figment of my imagination
not an ambition not a profession not a career in the field of literature
to be a poet on a certain degree
you see, i live in a crowded universe
i am a fish in the sea of people
and i, never imagine once in my whole life
that i will be swimming so meaninglessly in the corridors
of this vast ocean of men and mice and snakes
and goats and pigs and eagles
poetry is what i do but i am not a poet
this poet, that poet
their poet
the reason is here inside my heart
this is my place &
this is my only chance to be alone
to be myself to be human again for out there
i, we, you have become pillars
and dams.and walls and continental shelves
it is only here in this spot
that i become my island
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Last Great American
Mr. Merry cries in his coffin for days he says he can remember
And through the town the pallbearers sing old songs
Of a beautiful and purple mountain
From every walk of life we've come to see the Last Great American
May I now present you the speaker
Friends he was a man of men
song performed by by Five For Fighting from America Town
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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America
(Francis Scott Key)
Oh, say, can you see
By the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed
At the twilight's last gleaming
Whose broad stripes and bright stars
Through the perilous fight
O'er the ramparts we watched were so
Gallantly streaming?
America, America, America
America, America, America
And the rocket's red glare
The bombs bursting in air
Gave proof through the night
That our flag was still there
Oh, say, does that star
Spangled banner yet wave
Over the land of the free
And the home of the brave!
America, America, America
America, America, America
America, America, America
America, America, America
America, America, America
America, America
ooohhh
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some like Bob; Others, Elvis
Some like Bob; others, Elvis.
He never has a problem deciding; he loved both.
They are in his memory great American heroes,
Of his America. He’s happy here, and keeps
In his heart the happiness from years ago of getting an American visa.
Both musicians are the sweetness of his soul, a gift from God.
Thanks to them, he had had many joyful moments here.
Both artists are icons of America. With out them, America
Would be much poorer, just as he would be without it.
Adam Lizakowski
Elvis the king and Bob the muse, they are his masters of music and song.
So very human and imperfect, smeared with the mud of everydayness,
With problems of this world on their backs, they are America’s capital
Of which he gladly makes use. For him they are symbols
Of America changing for the better. Road signs leading to
A childish naïveté, that things will be better and that one must
Write about this, sing about this, that one must believe strongly in this.
Bob and Elvis, two falls, two volcanoes of his life, instilled in him forever
The fire of fascination with America. A fire that does not destroy,
That does not burn, that does not make ashes of everything, but cleanses.
It cures and burns out that which is weak and not worth little,
Ennobling in a man the best things,
From which we are made.
Yes, yes, some like Bob and others, Elvis, and he loves both,
However, they are different from each other as a king from a muse.
Bob; Others, Elvis
poem by Adam Lizakowski
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Reaction Paper
Michael Rose
English 101
'Fender Bender' Short Response
September 29,2009
The short story, 'Fender Bender, ' by Ramon 'Tiangus' Perez,
portrays the prejudiced state in which the contemporary society in
America regards illegally immigrated peoples. The anecdotal
experience which Perez divulges furthermore demonstrates an inter-
cultural conflict between Mexican immigrants: those who have become
Americanized and those who have clung onto the the cultural
idiosyncrosies of Mexico. In the short story, this conflict is catalyzed
over language-preference divergencies between a 'Chicano' cop and
a Mexican semaritan. On the other hand, however, the role which is
carried out by the 'Anglo-saxon' male, who is involved in the fender
bender with Perez, semphores a present-day change which is taking
place in those outlooks held by the base, Caucasian population within
America; the 'Anglo-saxon' insists against those legal complications
with which the 'Chicano' cop desires to have pass upon Perez.
Ultimately, the corruption of the system succeeds, however; the cop
forces Perez to lock his car keys within the vehicle, and proceed to
walk away from the vehicle, into the distance and down the block.
Perez is rescued by a meager hanger on a a street corner.
poem by Michael Timothy Rose
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Viceroy Sonata
I am the king called Viceroy
And in my ship I sail the Red Sea
All the way to North America because I want to see the other world
That the people call the American dream
But I know that is not easy to migrate to North America
Because if you want to stay you will need to apply for a green card
And you will be a gringo for the rest of your life
But I don't have any plans to live in North America
But my plans is just to visit North America and that is all
Because I am a jew and I belong in Telaviv that is my birth place
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Crazy Island
Written by John Mellencamp
Hey Hey America
You're some kind of crazy island
You're a place where dreams can grow
And there's history in your mansions
Good fortune in your plantings
You're well respected we all know
Hey Hey America
Let's check your children
And see what they might know
Hey Hey America
With your salesmanship and your salaries
And your strip malls a growin'
And your handguns and your heresies
Don't hold no responsibility
In this land of easy millions
Hey Hey America
It's so thrillin' to see you grow
You're some kind of crazy island
You're some kind of crazy island
Well I prefer a sunny day
I just thought maybe I'd live a little bit longer that way
I don't think we should look the same
Or talk the same
Yeah I think it's a shame
And Hey Hey America
Across the new horizon
Are you sure that's the way we should go
'Cause I don't know
Maybe it's too late for all that
And Hey Hey America
You're wrapped up in your red, white and blue
Hey Hey America
Wrapped up in yourself and your red, white and blue
Hey Hey America
You're some kind of crazy island
You're some kind of crazy island
Hey Hey America
You're some kind of crazy island
You're a place where dreams can grow
And there's history in your mansions
Hey Hey America
You're some kind of crazy island
Some kind of crazy island
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When one has great gifts, what answer to the meaning of existence should one require beyond the right to exercise them
quote by Wystan Hugh Auden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The great and admirable strength of America consists in this, that America is truly the American people.
quote by Jacques Maritain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One can not be an American by going about saying that one is an American. It is necessary to feel America, like America, love America and then work.
quote by Georgia O'Keeffe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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America My Country
It's great to live in a country big and strong
It doesn't matter if you are young or old
Our thoughts are as good as gold
Where we go on land or sea
We can always be happy and free
Free to express our thoughts and then
Even express them over again
To different people no matter what color or race
In America for them there is always a place
To make a home
For their families to roam
The fields; the woods.
The countryside
Especially the young man and his bride
For seniors and teens
In formals or jeans
Who ever it may be
Remember we can always be free
Just like a bird chirping, singing happily.
Like chipmunks in the wood
Calling to his mate and being good.
Good to his family
And Grandpa talking to his Emily
Pondering over ideas and thoughts galore
And, off to bed and listen to him snore
Taken up in the morning early light
Whenever it is nice and bright
In America where we are always free
Where in New York Harbor stands the Statue of Liberty
Her hand raised high toward the sky
Where our planes in freedom fly
Where all of us want to be
America for you and me
Liberty and freedom will never end
I'll get down on both my knees and bend
To thank God I am an American
In a country great and grand
Who wants to be anywhere else
Except in America where we can do so much expand
America will always be my land.
poem by Florence D. Schmalke
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America Is
America is
America is
America is
America is
America is the home of the hypocrite
America is the home of the hypocrite
America is the home of the hypocrite
American dream so f-f-full of it
Look at the indians
Look at the blacks
Look at the figures
Look at the facts
Check out the facts
The facts not the lies
When you find out
Big surprise
America is the home of the hypocrite
America is the home of the hypocrite
America is the home of the hypocrite
American dream so f-f-full of it
Check out the indians
Check out the blacks
Check out the figures
Check out the facts
Check out some facts
Check out the facts not the lies
When you find out
Its a big surprise right between the eyes
America is the home of the hypocrite
America is the home of the hypocrite
America is the home of the hypocrite
American dream so f-f-full of it
American dream is only a dream
No desperation limit
New desperation level
Even though my nose dont work
I smell trouble I smell trouble
No desperation limit
New desperation level
Murder, mureder in the goverment
Say youre sorry
Say youre sorry
No desperation limit
New desperation level
Turn the key
Turn the lock
Nationalism
You can suck my..
No desperation limit
New desperation level
Watch the worls progressin
Everywhere
Aggresion, aggresion
Aggresion, aggresion
Aggresion, aggresion
Gordon gano: vocal, guitar
Brian ritchie: bass, vocal
Victor delorenzo: drums, vocal
Recoded by dave nietzke at midwest records, milwaukee
Mixed by david vartanian at dvs perversion room, milwaukee
*previously unreleased
gorno music reprinted with permission
song performed by by Violent Femmes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To the Oracle at Delphi
Great Oracle, why are you staring at me,
do I baffle you, do I make you despair?
I, Americus, the American,
wrought from the dark in my mother long ago,
from the dark of ancient Europa--
Why are you staring at me now
in the dusk of our civilization--
Why are you staring at me
as if I were America itself
the new Empire
vaster than any in ancient days
with its electronic highways
carrying its corporate monoculture
around the world
And English the Latin of our days--
Great Oracle, sleeping through the centuries,
Awaken now at last
And tell us how to save us from ourselves
and how to survive our own rulers
who would make a plutocracy of our democracy
in the Great Divide
between the rich and the poor
in whom Walt Whitman heard America singing
O long-silent Sybil,
you of the winged dreams,
Speak out from your temple of light
as the serious constellations
with Greek names
still stare down on us
as a lighthouse moves its megaphone
over the sea
Speak out and shine upon us
the sea-light of Greece
the diamond light of Greece
Far-seeing Sybil, forever hidden,
Come out of your cave at last
And speak to us in the poet's voice
the voice of the fourth person singular
the voice of the inscrutable future
the voice of the people mixed
with a wild soft laughter--
And give us new dreams to dream,
Give us new myths to live by!
poem by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
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America
Walkin' 2 the corner of Main Street, USA
Look at the good people, hear what they gotta say-uh-huh
All right
See a sexy girl with her long black hair
See a preacher man sporting Abercrombie wear-uh-huh
All right
Walk into a corner store
A man says, "This is what I'm fighting for"
[CHORUS]
We are living in America
We're giving in America
We're tripping in America
Everywhere I go, seems like Bush is on TV
We shed blood in the name of liberty-uh-huh
All right
The circus tents are dead, but the sideshow is doing well
The Osbournes and Anna Nicole are too freaky 2 tell-uh-huh
All right
Take the bad with the good
I wanna change it, but I wouldn't leave it if I could
We are trying in America
We're spying in America
Getting high in America
We are laughing in America
We're crying in America
We're dying in America
We are trucking in America
We are f**king in America
We are lucky in America
We are breaking ground in America
Just another town in America
We are breaking down in America
Take the bad with the good
I wanna change it, but I wouldn't leave it if I could
[CHORUS]
We are trying in America
We're spying in America
We're getting high in America
We are getting tan in America
We love Spam in America
Polanski's banned from America
10 million served in America
Have u heard in America?
We're crying in America
We're laughing in America
We're living in America
song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To My Most Beloved School-Teacher, Mr. B.E. Coates
Dressed in coat and suit and tie,
Anglo-Indian Teacher my;
Wearing shoes with shine always;
Tall in stature, meek, honest, Ayes!
Speaking English in great style;
Punctual, walking ev’n a mile;
Teaching subjects ardently;
A gentle-man seen, quite rarely!
He taught us English with great care,
Like how Englishmen would dare;
Its nuances, he laid thread-bare,
Pronouncing with Anglo-air!
He made the class so interesting;
Chiding mischief, not punishing;
A pious man who forgave fast;
Advising students till the last.
He was my class-teacher at times;
And read us poetry with rhymes;
He taught us Geography as well;
‘Be hard-working, ’ he’d always tell.
Because of him, I loved English,
And rose to levels, many wish;
He taught us Catechism too,
And say in life, ‘How do you do? ’
My teacher most-beloved was he;
He fanned my sparks of poesy!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-11-2007
Dedicated most lovingly to
Master BE Coates, CGMS, CBE
poem by John Celes
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There are now two great nations in the world, which starting from different points, seem to be advancing toward the same goal: the Russians and the Anglo-Americans... Each seems called by some secret design of Providence one day to hold in its hands the destinies of half the world.
Alexis de Tocqueville in Democracy in America, 1835
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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American as Anybody
There is no required citizenship
in order for one to be considered an American.
You don't have to be born or even live within the boarders to belong,
You could go your whole life without ever once stepping foot on American soil.
You need not to know the political policies
parties or even president's names,
only the underlying foundation of principle.
Faces of Mt. Rushmore
Lady Liberty
Washington in all his forms -
whether Man Myth or place,
The Proud Spangled Banner itself!
All irrelevant symbols
used to signify the United Ideal.
The only anthem needed to know is the Unified Anthem of Man!
But one pledge, no pledge of greater significance than the pledge to one's self!
No language but the World Wide language of Love!
No law higher than God Given Equality to each in their own personal pursuit of Happiness!
I Sing the Mexican as American as the Michigander!
The Guatemalan as American as the Georgian!
the Chilean as Free as the Californian!
The Somalian with just as much right as the Carolinian!
The PuertoRican as Patriotic as the Pennsylvanian!
The center Heart of America belonging to the left as equally as to the right!
I hear not just 300 million - but Billions chanting the Paean of American Virtue World Wide!
The weight of America's potential must be hoisted by the joined hands of all Nations!
No printable documentation could ever supplement or suffice the American Spirit!
As long as you believe that each Man
Woman
Child and
Sentient Being
born to to be Free
you are as American as Anybody!
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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