Poetry competition CLOSED 8th December 2015 10:53am
WINNER
LobodeSanPedro
LobodeSanPedro
RUNNERS-UP:
snugglebuck
and calamitygin
Monthly Tribute #1: Langston Hughes
Poetry Contest Description
Write a tribute piece about Langston Hughes weaving in titles of his works
I have been considering this for sometime, an annual comp dedicated to some of the greats. I plan to do one each month, my work schedule makes it a bit difficult to do anything annual but I don't think it'll be a big deal.
So we'll begin with Langston
Rules are rather simple; write about the featured poet, weave in the titles or lines from his works, please use quotations. No collab's, no prose, new works only, title the piece. No word limit. Be creative!
So we'll begin with Langston
Rules are rather simple; write about the featured poet, weave in the titles or lines from his works, please use quotations. No collab's, no prose, new works only, title the piece. No word limit. Be creative!
IN MEMORIAM; LANGSTON HUGHES
I watched my darker brother
Dancing in the brilliant sunlight
Till the shadows of Harlem’s blight
Were enveloped into the night
Yet I could hear his happy voice
Echoing off concrete walls and street
Resonating improvised Dixieland jive
From Manhattan speakeasy dives
Disadvantaged, yet ambitious
Born of tragedy, he was happy
Child of prejudice and racism
He was a patriotic American
The dreamer now sleeps
Yet Langston’ dreams
Can still heard and seen
In the avant-garde art scene
My darker brother
Sleep the gentile sleep
In the world of dreams
Where the sun shines sweet
I watched my darker brother
Dancing in the brilliant sunlight
Till the shadows of Harlem’s blight
Were enveloped into the night
Yet I could hear his happy voice
Echoing off concrete walls and street
Resonating improvised Dixieland jive
From Manhattan speakeasy dives
Disadvantaged, yet ambitious
Born of tragedy, he was happy
Child of prejudice and racism
He was a patriotic American
The dreamer now sleeps
Yet Langston’ dreams
Can still heard and seen
In the avant-garde art scene
My darker brother
Sleep the gentile sleep
In the world of dreams
Where the sun shines sweet
What a wonderful idea, and great first choice. An amazing jazz poet, and a favorite playwrite! I am stealing your idea for the erotica genre....and will be submitting a piece in yours. Great job Sir Snuggle...
Song for a Dark Girl
Way Down South in Dixie
(Break the heart of me)
They hung my black young lover
To a cross roads tree.
Way Down South in Dixie
(Bruised body high in air)
I asked the white Lord Jesus
What was the use of prayer.
Way Down South in Dixie
(Break the heart of me)
Love is a naked shadow
On a gnarled and naked tree.
by Langston Hughes
Langston speaks of Michaela DePrince: the devil's child
The peal of Kids Who Die
resonates in the crescendo of
a Song for a Dark Girl.
Listen to the staccato of steel mosquitos
inking black serifs for this dirge
on another Bad Morning.
Her people are My People.
A Genius Child born with Feet o' Jesus.
Her spots are the constellations
that simmer and then subside
come Daybreak in Alabama.
She glides on the whispers of mockingbirds
and dragonflies
who know no limits.
For I, Too
know what it is to feel shamed for the hue
of your dignity.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.
And so have you.
I pulled Freedom's Plow
with a pen, Me And The Mule.
You pirouette over those plowed rows
singing Children's Rhymes learned through
Wisdom and War.
They called you
Devil's Child.
But you must know this,
Whilst God did banish Lucifer
You have risen through the flames
fed by blood and tears.
Serving as a beacon that
illuminates an unfulfilled need in all of us,
best quenched by your flight in an
April Rain Song.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Fh5kiTn0P4Y
Way Down South in Dixie
(Break the heart of me)
They hung my black young lover
To a cross roads tree.
Way Down South in Dixie
(Bruised body high in air)
I asked the white Lord Jesus
What was the use of prayer.
Way Down South in Dixie
(Break the heart of me)
Love is a naked shadow
On a gnarled and naked tree.
by Langston Hughes
Langston speaks of Michaela DePrince: the devil's child
The peal of Kids Who Die
resonates in the crescendo of
a Song for a Dark Girl.
Listen to the staccato of steel mosquitos
inking black serifs for this dirge
on another Bad Morning.
Her people are My People.
A Genius Child born with Feet o' Jesus.
Her spots are the constellations
that simmer and then subside
come Daybreak in Alabama.
She glides on the whispers of mockingbirds
and dragonflies
who know no limits.
For I, Too
know what it is to feel shamed for the hue
of your dignity.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.
And so have you.
I pulled Freedom's Plow
with a pen, Me And The Mule.
You pirouette over those plowed rows
singing Children's Rhymes learned through
Wisdom and War.
They called you
Devil's Child.
But you must know this,
Whilst God did banish Lucifer
You have risen through the flames
fed by blood and tears.
Serving as a beacon that
illuminates an unfulfilled need in all of us,
best quenched by your flight in an
April Rain Song.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Fh5kiTn0P4Y
Jazz Hands, Jazz Hands
"What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?...
Or does it explode?"
Was the Harlem Renaissance
a historical masterpiece?
Or a moment in the 1920's
we just choose to hold on to?
I've been stuck in the Weary Blues
replaying that Jukebox love song
listening to The Trumpet Player
on Lenox Avenue
in that Ole' Harlem bar
Mother to Son, Freedom's Plow
My People; I, Too, Sing America
But
The Negro Speaks of Rivers
and the
flow of human blood in human veins
like a
Montage of a dream deferred
and the wake
of poetry waving hands
-x-
RIP :- James Mercer Langston Hughes (February 1, 1902 – May 22, 1967)
Congrats Lobo, had to choose you, after seeing the vid you linked and the story you were writing around, while using Langston's work as well, just amazing. Glad you linked the story, brought a few tears, amazing girl. Awesome work to everyone the few who entered. Thanks!
