Ode to America: 2nd, #2

By Odetta A. Fraser

Ode to America is a song both difficult and sweet. It touches upon America's bittersweet soul as it struggles to impress itself upon a girl so unfamiliar with its cold and aloof persona. It is written in poetic form, daring its readers to catch up as it takes flight into issues both far and near to every person's aching heart, in a country so treasured and bold. It covers topics such as racism, prejudice, capitalism, relationships and more, as it traverses the steep landscape of America's need for a cultural revolution.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Odetta A. Fraser
• Release date: May 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9781639449606

Odetta A. Fraser

Writer, artist, student, teacher, friend, lover of that which is good...the beginning of something much sweeter is today's mood.  I write, I design, I talk to people to find common ground in the mind.

Book preview

Chapter I

Dear White America ,

I am ANGRY with you! Not you,

precious ones, borne from the

heart, wounded at every touch of

unrighteousness and selfish darts;

Not you, tender ones, hard at work,

earning and churning, hands to the dark

dirt; bright beacons of light, you work!

Hands to the axe, you wax stronger and

stronger, as you fight the good fight,

morning—noon—night...

Nor even you, sweet hearts—

Plunged from the top, angels of love,

peace and light, you DROPPED—

Ready to keep the peace of the top,

atop of the night; you face the fight

with your lamps trimmed and ready,

burning, pure and bright...

It is because of you, I shine

precious lights, beaming at

mine own, daring me to

break the trend of night and

don mine own perfect,

pleasant, uniform of peace

in perfect form...

You lift me up into daylight!

No, you do your thing

beauty lights, stars of the dark

days and long, long nights;

Please.

Do continue the fight for peace and

right!

Do set the world aright with

your bright emblems of kings and

knights, and generals with primed

pikes...

You fly your kites of colors so

bright—a flavorful sight for me,

guiding me into symmetry...

We shan’t do it without your fight;

Together, we must set the world aright,

We can do it right;

Oh, but it is to you jolly ones,

I with this message fight;

we despise your blight,

selfish, paragons of white,

supreme beings, willing to

sneer at my sight with

easy disdain oozing from

your eyes, noses, stiff chin

bones and arched poses.

Beacons of dislike!

Calling to the children

from the midst of the

night, far, far away, yet

still keeping them at bay,

deep in the fight, with your

distaste for truth and light,

peace and right;

Your rules!

Oh how they trouble me sore!

You twist them, tweak them,

and fancy yourselves doers of more!

We make them better! you say,

as you nudge the door

a little further...

and even more...

Elaborate words you cling to, and oh

how they have such an intellectual ring to them!

Clink! Clink!

Cages they become as you hustle

me in, another thing for me to do or

undo, depending on whom I talk to...

Sinkholes they become

and you my friend

have earned yourself another

batch of ready, trembling selves

from which to draw from:

With caution, you siphon

their souls into your food bowls,

urns, vats and drums...a

mélange that make you fat cats,

but bums dwelling atop in

misery,

your stomachs full,

but your minds, queasy;

You grin and flap like penguins.

shuffling to and fro,

your cities are bustling—

Your appetite growing more and more

and more...

You keep the masses hustling!

You’ve got them doing one step, and two—

They’ve created forceps and new steps—

They do flips, backflips and divorces,

all to get through to you!

REWARD THEM!!!

But you just smile and keep forcing us,

Remarking on how easy it is

to make us wild—all the while

still avoiding us...

You know you destroy us!

Men, women and children alike—

Ka-ching!

Again you’re cashing in, cash

Kings, you drink—

No longer buoyant, the bodies

are afloat,

carried in the current,

bogged together in

bunches—a new supply—

You’re on your haunches and

out come your hoses as you

pinch your noses, insert...ah!

Sigh!

They now become your goodwill

stories and a guide to your

swollen paunches—

And again,

you switch corners...again and

again...

Is ANYBODY onto this?

"This is the chorus of the enemies of the uterus—

it plays nonstop—"

Are you listening?

you white cocks,

and condoners of

fake democracy: white man knows best

and such slop?

It is for you, I flung the warm confines

of a celestial cell to come down

and personally deliver this knell:

YOU ARE UNDONE!!!

You will rot in hell, should you not stop,

so STOP these lies

that posit that you are sole guardians

of the skies,

Of knowledge, understanding and

what belies the understanding

when it is carried under browned

skin!

Putting up your barriers steadily to

flee the inevitable—

You belong to me;

I belong to you;

We are one,

yes, brothers,

you see!

We have

the same mother,

you and me!

Yes, you have offended me and

we still continue in conflict—

though we pretend to be much

more cordial—(and it surely is time that we

come off of it)—

Follow me!

Come, let’s pretend to be...

me? Esau. And Jacob?

You are he!

My story I will tell, I am not perfect,

I’ll be the first to tell in any

circuit—

(And Oh! How I wish you

too would follow, It would surely

quell a whole heap of sorrow)—

I HAVE OFFENDED THE LAW AND YOU ARE THE BENEFICIARY.

[This is a story much bigger than