‘Americans Cross the Rubicon’: A July 4th Poem by Brian Yapko

 

Americans Cross the Rubicon

 

1. Preamble

Be proud, be grateful that we’re here! We came
In pain from stifling lands which we outgrew,
And crossed the wildest seas that we might live.
It’s madness to assume a stance of shame.
We took vast risks and offered all we knew
To build a vital future which might give
This worn-out world of tyrants something new.

We came because we had to have a voice!
The Old World’s threats and wounds left us no choice.

Decry, as well, those fools who would defame
The pioneers and settlers. Yes, it’s true
That lives were lost. But history’s a sieve
Which sorts out what was destined from vain blame.
Just look at where we were and how we grew!
No, at this point there’s nothing to forgive.
America’s for me as much as you.

So pay no heed to slander or attack.
We’ve crossed the Rubicon. Do not turn back,
But rather celebrate our nation’s birth—
You’ll find no greater nation on this Earth!

 

2. The Rebel (1776)

Good morrow, John! I’m grateful for your time.
I’d like to share with you what I’ve been thinking.
“God Save the King?” My friend, I must say no.
Don’t think that I’m impulsive—short on rhyme
Or reason. But these Colonies are sinking,
And Independence offers room to grow.

You say taxation is a minor thing
But I must say I deeply disagree—
For London’s hostile acts impose great dangers.
Yet worse, we’re blocked from redress with our King!
The Crown would bleed us dry for stamps and tea,
While we are forced to quarter perfect strangers!

We are not serfs! These are not lands we’ve rented!
King George thinks he’s our master and inerrant;
But, John, it’s time the English leave our shore.
We won’t submit to live unrepresented!
The time comes when a child must act the parent,
Stand tall, speak sharply and insist, “No more.”

 

3. The Runaway (1842)

Please hear me, Lord. It’s Beulah. On my knees.
I worked their fields, Lord. Springtime through the sleet,
In Fall and Winter when I nearly freeze,
And Summer when I like to die from heat.

O Lord, now help me run! I got to leave!
The river’s low. Ohio’s straight ahead.
Ain’t no one knows I’m gone. Won’t no one grieve
When I am free or missing or plain dead.

Why stay? Them folks love cotton more than gold—
Enough to chain me down with heavy tears,
From cradle till these bones be bent and old.
I miss my children sold these seven years.

There’s folks think it will always be this way.
They wrong—so wrong as sure as wind blows wild!
I’m strong and fast. Can’t nothing make me stay.
But help me, Jesus. Teach them I’m Your child.

 

4. Gettysburg (1863)

My uniform was homespun Union blue—
The 24th from Michigan. My wife
Cried as she sewed me up a sash to wear.

I sacrificed a lot to fight this war
To make a better world, to free the slaves.
My friend, Elijah Pitt, lost his left leg.

Those Dixie rebels sure know how to fight—
They shoot and die believing that they’re right.
Well, goodness changes everywhere you go.

At Gettysburg, a gray-coat shot me dead.
They found my body face-down in a ditch
With Glory Hallelujah on my lips.

I heard Abe Lincoln speak right where I died.
He said we must be one. All must be free.
America, I tried. I did my best.
Will anyone at all remember me?

 

5. Chinatown (1869)

The Railroad Boss says with that final spike
My work is done. “Go China! You go back!”
He speaks in pidgin, loathing in his eyes.
He thinks I’m dumb. He mimes as if to strike,
So I nod “yes.” But—cash wage paid—I pack
For San Francisco where my future lies.

The year that I was born is called “the Horse”—
And this means I am luckier than most.
It’s true! For I survived the Yangtze’s flood
Though all my village drowned. And in due course
I sailed far, far away: the U.S. coast,
To build these railroad tracks the best I could.

The Boss was cruel. I groaned and cursed my life.
But when the night came, I conceived a scheme:
I’d save up all my cash to start a store.
I’d send away to Shanghai for a wife;
Our children would live out my cherished dream;
Prosperity and freedom. Who needs more?

I’ll build… the Boss will not believe how fast!
And he’ll see I’m American at last!

 

6. A Settler on the Chivington Massacre (1884)

I still remember 1864
And Colorado Territory’s pain.
Arapaho and also some Cheyenne
Were targeted by Colonel Chivington
Who used his cavalry to mow them down.
It didn’t matter that they posed no threat.
Though peaceful they had been born in the wrong
Locale and time. And so 600 killed,
With grim machines of death directed at
The elderly, the infants and the squaws.
When quoted, Chivington said ‘nits breed lice.’
A court-martial took place. He was acquitted.

“The Colonel’s acts were criminally wrong,
But Justice has an arc which skews quite long
And there are monsters all of us despise.
How do we make things better? Let us rise
Together and seek truth with better eyes.
I’ve heard it said ‘Look back, but do not stare,’
For living in the past can be a snare.
Should we not salve the failures of our past
By standing as one nation meant to last?”

 

7. Kitty Hawk (1903)

Hey, Orville. I just had an awful dream:
We launched our new contraption to the sky
And then we steered it up through clouds of steam;
We saw birds veer and squawk as we flew by;
But then we rose too closely to the sun
And our contraption melted; we fell fast!
The wings dropped off; the engine wouldn’t run,
And then we hit the ground with one hard blast.
I woke up with a scream. I’m shaking still.
I’m worried. Should men fly? Is it God’s will?

Come, Wilbur, never doubt our awesome dream:
To prove with this invention Man can fly!
There’s risk; some things will change; and it may seem
Our innocence is lost—perhaps we’ll sigh
That clouds should bear the stench of gasoline.
But think of this great marvel! We’ll be free
To sail through rainbows, lightning, sky! I’ve seen
A future where we soar and cross the sea!
My brother, our invention is a boon
Which soon will shrink the Earth and touch the Moon!

Be bold! All things seem fearsome from the air;
But we’re Americans. We dare to dare!

 

8. The Charleston (1927)

I’ll level with you, Earl, I’m just not meant
To be the kind of wife who cleans the house.
I’m bored and restless—maybe slightly bent.
I’m leaving. Find yourself a different spouse.

Screw Prohibition, Earl. Next week: New York!
My parents? They’ll just try to make me weak.
The past is dead; I’m going to pop the cork,
And roam like Valentino in “The Sheik.”

I’ll Bunny Hug and Charleston, bob my hair,
And nuts on any prudes that I make queasy.
I’ll be a flapper with a vampy flair;
I’ll smoke and sing hot jazz at some speakeasy.

I’ve come alive! America’s my stage!
My ties are cut, all inhibitions shed.
To hell with being held in some dull cage—
My days of being prim and bored are dead.

 

9. Awake The Sleeping Giant (1941)

Well, Eleanor, it’s done. The easy part.
“A Day of Infamy.” My speech went well.
Republicans and Democrats alike
Applauding not just me but our whole Nation.
And, hard as it will be, we can take heart:
We’re strong enough to give the Axis hell:
Avenge Pearl Harbor, level Hitler’s Reich
And chart out Mussolini’s ruination.

Oh, Eleanor, I tell you… when I stood
Before the Congress I felt strong. What’s more,
I had no polio, no crippled limbs!
My anger made me whole and primed to fight,
Convinced down to my marrow of the good
That we must do to win this crucial war
In both Atlantic and Pacific rims,
To put an end to brutal, fascist might.

God fixed me to this wheelchair so I’d learn
Some wisdom—how a president should lead.
We’ll fight this war to win and we will never
Allow our foes to break or breach or bust us.
Now, Eleanor, let’s pray the tide will turn
So that we see the Axis powers bleed.
Almighty God, please bless this great endeavor—
And help America bring them to justice!

 

10. Joseph McCarthy on the United Nations (1952)

You’re from the Times? I’m glad you asked me that.
I take my role as Senator to heart
As my Committee tries to note all threats
To our security and way of life.
The very mention of “united nations”
Bespeaks world government and our demise.
The U.N. is an immature idea
Which Wilson started with his League of Nations.
A pipe dream, a romantic fantasy
Which roundly failed to stop a second war.

Sure, World War II gave cover to the thought
Some type of world assembly might have value.
Most countries joined. The U.S. financed more
Than all the rest, plus prime Manhattan land.
The deed was done (we naysayers ignored),
And now our country hosts a brazen whore.
The U.N. is at heart a club for bullies
For anti-Western third world potentates,
Ascendant pashas and Red Communists
Who bolster hate and make our country weak.

The Times would like to know what I suggest?
Take notes. Here’s what I think is for the best:
We should withdraw from this farce institution
Which thrives on moral failure and corruption,
Which hates the West and wants its execution,
While it advances communist eruption.
The U.N. is the Mob. In fact, it’s worse
As it demands all Justice be erased.
Our membership just amplifies this curse:
As host and banker, we are much debased.

 

11. The Sound of Silence (1989)

Yo, Joy! Why are you marching with that sign?
You know that Vietnam is over, right?
It’s fourteen years, but you still shout (with spite)
“One World, One Love,” “Our Leaders Must Resign,”
And “No One—NO ONE—Should Endure Arrest.”
You look the same, Joy. Flowers in your hair
(Dyed blue to hide some gray,) a bitter stare,
And “Peace and Love” pinned boldly to your chest.

That you’re still here… It’s hard to comprehend.
I guess you see injustice everywhere.
No argument. The world is seldom fair,
But, I won’t join you. I’ve grown up, old friend.
Those songs we chanted while we passed the pipe
Like “All You Need Is Love,” “Give Peace a Chance”
Or “no more countries” in John Lennon’s rants,
Meant something then. But now they’re overripe.

You cherish “Hello, darkness, my old friend…”
But you, old friend cannot tell day from night.
If Darkness is your friend, then what is Light?
I think your love of victimhood should end.
Your morals, Joy, have grown a little blobby;
That tender, touchy heart? It’s sort of flaccid.
In fact, you don’t spread love—you just fling acid.
I think its time you find another hobby.

 

12. The Trojan Horse (2001)

Yes, I survived. It’s hard, though, to remember.
They found me underneath a damaged car.
The paramedic said he heard me moan.
My face was badly cut. A broken leg,
And largely deaf. I had a bad concussion.
He told me I was coated in gray dust.
I thought I’d die—part of the multitude,
But I was eight, nine blocks from the Twin Towers.
It’s three months since and it still hurts to breathe.
Yes, this was the eleventh of September.

I later learned about that day’s attacks:
Four planes were hijacked by Al Qaeda thugs;
The Towers fell, the Pentagon was hit;
Plus a United Airlines flight was crashed
When patriotic passengers rebelled
Against Islamic death-cult terrorists.

Will I recover? I suppose I will.
We all will if Americans stand firm
And recognize the enemy that’s here.
Have I been changed? Oh, yes. I’m changing still.
I’m one of those who thought that every nation
On Earth respected the United States.
We let them in… to change them into us.

But we were very innocent and smug
To think all cultures wanted what we want.
We never once considered how a world
With different values burned to see us fail.
I took for granted what it means to be
American. To stand up for what’s right.
And now I must admit what fools we were.
I hope this understanding’s not too late.

I still see bastards wring their hands, who say,
“America is arrogant and so
Deserved to be attacked, its people killed.”
These people hang themselves with their own rope.
What brainwashed fools they are if they can’t see
The U.S. as the world’s last, greatest hope.

Those handwringers—the treasonists as well…
I hope they join those terrorists in Hell.

 

13. The Second Civil War (2026)

I stand before you haunted by the voices
Of brave Americans—the ones who gave
All that they had in sacrifice, to save
This nation with courageous, fateful choices.

And now we celebrate our country’s birth!
I pray America will reach 300
Though half the country hopes to see it sundered—
As Lincoln feared, to “perish from the Earth.”

Dark foes embrace all manner of seditions
To ban our right to speak, to think, to arm,
To seek the truth, to not submit to harm…
To honor our American traditions.

I think one day our grandchildren will wonder
What steps we took to try to save our nation
For those to come, for the next generation,
As leftists tried to tear this land asunder.

Those future generations… What endeavor
Shall we say we engaged in to preserve
Our way of life? We must show strength and nerve
To stand up to our foes and tell them, “Never!”

Ye patriots, let’s vow to do our part
To save this land with muscle, mind and prayer;
To once more hail the rockets’ bright red glare
As Glory Hallelujah fills each heart!

And should harsh conflict come, so let it be
The final battle that sets all men free,
That Justice may erase all enmity.
God, heal this land from sea to shining sea.

 

 

Brian Yapko is a retired lawyer whose poetry has appeared in over fifty journals.  He is the winner of the 2023 SCP International Poetry Competition. Brian is also the author of several short stories, the science fiction novel El Nuevo Mundo and the gothic archaeological novel  Bleeding Stone.  He lives in Bradenton, Florida.