Fireworks

Newly edited according to multiple wise suggestions (thanks guys, you know who you are!).

Go ahead, shoot me down for being unpatriotic, but this is my take on what happened tonight:

Every year that I can remember, the 4th of July has been spent on a blanket in the park looking up at the fiery black sky as the fireworks explode into wondrous shapes and hues.

Soon I became old enough to understand why the sky was set alight.

In 2nd grade I learned about America’s freedom and independence.

The fireworks were magical.

But then things began to change.

In 4th grade I learned about the Native Americans and the Trail of Tears.

The fireworks began to lose their charm.

In 5th grade I watched a movie on slavery and looked on in horror as families were torn.

The brilliant colors began to dim.

In 6th grade I learned about the Chinese and how they were made to work on the railroads.

The great and glorious booming was muffled.

In 7th grade my principle gave a speech about what a marvelous history our nation had.

I hated the fireworks.

I’m older now and tonight I watched the fireworks with a stoic expression. It was as though the world was on mute and
even the bright bursts of light faded to gray. They sang:

“America, America! God shed His grace on thee!”

What grace do we deserve, I mused.

“America, the beautiful!” They sang with pride.

And the sky was set alight as I cried.

What is 4th of July for all of us?

What is 4th of July for those who were forced from their land?

What are the fireworks to us who were taken and raped and bred and killed?

What is all of this to we who were wronged?

Where was our freedom on July 4, 1776?

I was taught of America’s great history.

Suddenly, looking up into the sky, I felt lied to.
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I'd really like to know what you think!

Hi! This is great. This is touching on something you feel strongly about, something you can outline the steps into, as well. But what I think is that I want to know more about what it feels like. You only mention briefly that you cry, something that gives us a visual into how you're feeling. If you've ever heard before that you should "show, not tell", the rest of your description of your emotions is telling. Like "I hated the fireworks".

I really like to know that you hated the fireworks. But I want to know how that manifested itself in you. Where did you feel that hate? Did you express it? If you did, how? If you didn't, how did it feel to keep the hate inside you? Did you see how other people reacted? Did you wonder if they felt the same way? Patriotism comes from a feeling of community. Did you feel like you'd exited the community?

My favorite part was when you said the world was on mute, because that was a sensory image I could really get in to. Through all the loud explosions, when you adjusted to them, it felt quieter. I could definitely understand that.

I also wonder why you feel lied to at the end, if throughout your education you'd been told new things that you obviously believed in. So wouldn't that mean that you'd been told the truth? How did the feeling of being lied to last over all the years of being told the truth? I'm just wondering. I'd rather see these feelings in comparisons than hear the timeline of how you came to this feeling.

Maybe it would help if you chose a point in time and wrote from just that point, instead of moving through. You could still look back at how it felt in the past, but then we'd be more grounded in a place emotionally. It would also help our sights of the fireworks out as the world fades to mute. We'd feel like we were actually watching the fireworks with you instead of looking around in a distant place at your feelings over time.

If you have questions, please let me know and we can talk more!

Hannah

I really enjoyed this! I mean I don't feel your unpatrotic or anything. Sometimes I feel the same exact way. We were (and still are) selfish people who just are greedy. Human beings are greedy and like to win haha, but I feel the same exact way and I really enjoyed the poem

This is a great poem! You're not being unpatriotic because it's all true. If we are proud, then we should be proud of our faults also. I would love to see a die-hard patriot read this poem and try to argue back against it. After all, our country isn't all so great.

There were a few things that bothered me however. You talk about the Chinese forced to work on the railroads, and yes they had deplorable conditions to work it, but they came here of their own free will. I'd rather have you talk about the Japanese concentration camps, or the fact that the Germans had to abandon their culture for a long time, because these seem worse than the Chinese on the rails. I understand that you're only putting a few examples in the poem, but these seem a lot worse and goes with your theme more than the Chinese part.

I would also like to see the lines "the fireworks began to lose their charm" grow. Like in the fourth grade, have that line, but in fifth grade say "the fireworks began to disgust me," or something to that effect. I would like to see the hate build up until "I hated fireworks." I think that would be better because right now it seems too tame.

The ending was magnificent though and I can tell that you feel strongly in the poem. Good job and keep up the work!

-Nana

Amazing! That's all I have to say, really.

This is an epic poem! Wow. Very nice job.
It's deep and makes you think.
There are always two sides to freedom.
Thanks for the nice read!

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-Jojo

Go to North Korea. Go to China. Go to Kenya.

Got to Germany- Heil Hitler!!!!!!!!!!

Nah... Just stay here, in the land of the free and the home of the brave.

Be thankful that you live in the cleanest of all nations; don't expect perfection from us Americans. Instead, expect a land where civilization is wrought and freedom for blacks paid for by the blood of hundreds of thousands of men- arms torn from their sockets, steel in their guts, damned to nameless graves.

Expect a land from which bold warriors journey to seek the nazi death-camps to destroy them and liberate the destitute. Expect a land where the iron fist of Communism- the bastion against human rights and freedom- is fought against ever so bravely. Expect a land from which men in arms leave to suffer on Pacific-Japanese, tropical hells, where napalm rains fire and melts skin and where the screams of forgotten troops are faded into bloody, drowning waters- all for freedom's cause.

"What do you want from us?" cry the still-tortured American prisoners of war to their petty countrymen, "Have we not given you our lives? Have we not protected your rights and comfort while you wallow amidst amber waves of grain and cities bright? Must you forget us as we are tortured and made to march naked through 'Nam prison yards, to rot in cells like animals, to die as men forever forgotten by you?"

And the veterans who made it home, whose legs were blown off by mines, and whose fingers severed by the demon enemy? Will you forget them too, as they beg in the streets, as they shiver in the alleyways- their mind's eye flashing back to the silhouettes of hidden guerillas in the rice paddies of Asia Minor, AK's concealed up their backs.

Will you forget them?

You have forgotten America, the fortress of peace in the world of shame. The fourth of July is not for you.

Wow this poeM is amazing! It really makes me think of the reality of our history. It makes me think of the things our ancestors did in order to persue their dreams. The poeple they killed, (indians) the scams the y pulled. It actually put a blood stain to the american flag, and the fireworks do not seem so glorious after all. still our ancestors faught for thier country and for that they deserve the reverance. You did a fantastic job! Not only did you entertain the reader, but you made us think about your topic as well. Keep on writing, I look forward to reading more of your writings!

Formslipper wrote:Go to North Korea. Go to China. Go to Kenya.

Got to Germany- Heil Hitler!!!!!!!!!!

Nah... Just stay here, in the land of the free and the home of the brave.

Be thankful that you live in the cleanest of all nations; don't expect perfection from us Americans. Instead, expect a land where civilization is wrought and freedom for blacks paid for by the blood of hundreds of thousands of men- arms torn from their sockets, steel in their guts, damned to nameless graves.

Expect a land from which bold warriors journey to seek the nazi death-camps to destroy them and liberate the destitute. Expect a land where the iron fist of Communism- the bastion against human rights and freedom- is fought against ever so bravely. Expect a land from which men in arms leave to suffer on Pacific-Japanese, tropical hells, where napalm rains fire and melts skin and where the screams of forgotten troops are faded into bloody, drowning waters- all for freedom's cause.

"What do you want from us?" cry the still-tortured American prisoners of war to their petty countrymen, "Have we not given you our lives? Have we not protected your rights and comfort while you wallow amidst amber waves of grain and cities bright? Must you forget us as we are tortured and made to march naked through 'Nam prison yards, to rot in cells like animals, to die as men forever forgotten by you?"

And the veterans who made it home, whose legs were blown off by mines, and whose fingers severed by the demon enemy? Will you forget them too, as they beg in the streets, as they shiver in the alleyways- their mind's eye flashing back to the silhouettes of hidden guerillas in the rice paddies of Asia Minor, AK's concealed up their backs.

Will you forget them?

You have forgotten America, the fortress of peace in the world of shame. The fourth of July is not for you.

I have forgotten America?

I have been spared no pain. I have been spared no tears as I weep at the graves of my relatives. I forget nothing.

America has forgotten me.

How much greatness does it take cover up a mountain of wrongs? What substance can cleanse a stain of blood centuries old?

I have forgotten nothing!

Perhaps it wasn't you who was born in shackles and buried in them.

Maybe it wasn't you who had to fight and died for a land that was yours to begin with.

Perhaps it wasn't you who suffered in a camp just because you were different.

I love America. There is safety and justice here that cannot be found anywhere else in this crumbling world.

But still I have forgotten nothing.

I will not hold past wrongs against America, but I sure as hell will never forget them.

Wow, this is good. It really made me think about independence day and what it's about. I love fireworks, but you're making me rethink them!

Awesome poem- I loved how you showed that you began to dislike the fireworks.

I hated the fireworks.

Did you hate them right then because you felt that your principal was lying in his speech? I don't really get that part.

Anyways, powerful stuff!

I, myself, am truly jaded against America, much in the same fashion as you. I never really felt anything towards America when I was younger, but like you [if these iare your true feelings] I see how much... corruption, for lack of a better word, it really took for America to get where it is today. You can be drilled into thinking how wonderful your country is, or how wonderful anything else is, but there are always people who can see past it. I've lost whatever respect I have for alot of things though [just not America] and I think that poems like this truly reflect just what the cost of 'freedom' has. I don't think it's unpatriodic, it's needed. Every story has two sides, and it's up to people, not just historians, to find where that truly lies.

I honestly felt like this on the 4th. I watched the fireworks with my family, but all they were was just 'pretty lights in the sky'. They meant nothing, and this poem captures that. You've written it well, but as Hannah said, "show, don't tell." I feel that, besides the fireworks losing their charm, you need to convey more emotion for it.

Other than that, I have no problems with it. Most times people don't say things like this because of fear from what others think. I'm happy you put it up though. I loved it.

Keep on writing.

~ Wolfy

I love lay on a blanket and watch fireworks, or I did. You have changed my mind. This is very real. People have changed over the years but there will still be that snotty pride that labels us as Americans. I never thought of that as a bad thing before now. Though you where just speaking your mind, you have changed at least one persons heart and I can say that in my eyes you are a revolutionary.
-Always, Writer.

I feel the same way, too, and this really touched me that someone else agreed with me.
While America is clean, people have really forgotten what we had to do. We most certainly weren't brave with the African Americans.
And to that person said you 'forgot America' I completely disagree. That person have forgotten the civilizations we have ruined, and I'd love to see what people like the Native Americans, who were some of few who cooperated with nature, could have done. I'm not necessarily an environmentalist, I just hate what we've done.
And thats not even to mention the Mayans, Incas, and Aztecs. They really were amazing.
Anyway, back to your poem.
Like others said before me, show don't tell.
This quote: "The fireworks began to lose their charm" seems like it can only be used once. Maybe, for the 2nd and 3rd times you repeat that, you can change it around so they continue to lose their charm instead of beginning again, which is what it implied to me.
Nothing else, really, this poem was amazing.

You have a point but I still love the 4th. really good poem

Unbelievably breathe taking.
This needs to be seen by more than just the YWS fabulous eyes (in my opinion!)
I have never cared for the 4th of July myself, but the way you expressed your true opinion with no sense of pure hatred just raw honesty, my mouth dropped—literally.
I can truly say—I LOVE THIS POEM
I could never get this kind of emotion to settle on paper and I am basically (being 100%) honest here—going to stalk your other posted works this weekend.
Great job! I mean it!
SnowBerry