An influential novelist and playwright, Hughes legacy stands alone as a poet particularly known for his insightful and colorful portrayal of black life in America from the 1920's through the 1960's. In his poetry, Hughes refused to differentiate between his own personal experiences and those of his people - the rest of black America.
Hughes focused on poetic portrayal of the culture of his people -- portraying the suffering, music, love, laughter and language of black culture during this time period. Hughes wrote unpretentiously in a language which was plain, simple and humorous, and was one of the most immensely popular poets of his time, possibly reading his poems to more people than any poet, ever.
The Weary Blues comes from his very first collection of poems entitled "The Weary Blues" and skillfully combines poetry with the physical emotion of the musical forms of blues and jazz...one of his greatest works. Enjoy!
is
particularly known for his insightful, colorful portrayals of black
life in America from the twenties through the sixties. - See more at:
http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/83#sthash.tgQGDmor.dpuf
is
particularly known for his insightful, colorful portrayals of black
life in America from the twenties through the sixties. - See more at:
http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/83#sthash.tgQGDmor.dpuf
is
particularly known for his insightful, colorful portrayals of black
life in America from the twenties through the sixties. - See more at:
http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/83#sthash.tgQGDmor.dpuf
The Weary Blues
By Langston Hughes
Droning a drowsy syncopated tune,
Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon,
I heard a Negro play.
Down on Lenox Avenue the other night
By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light
He did a lazy sway . . .
He did a lazy sway . . .
To the tune o' those Weary Blues.
With his ebony hands on each ivory key
He made that poor piano moan with melody.
O Blues!
Swaying to and fro on his rickety stool
He played that sad raggy tune like a musical fool.
Sweet Blues!
Coming from a black man's soul.
O Blues!
In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone
I heard that Negro sing, that old piano moan--
"Ain't got nobody in all this world,
Ain't got nobody but ma self.
I's gwine to quit ma frownin'
And put ma troubles on the shelf."
Thump, thump, thump, went his foot on the floor.
He played a few chords then he sang some more--
"I got the Weary Blues
And I can't be satisfied.
Got the Weary Blues
And can't be satisfied--
I ain't happy no mo'
And I wish that I had died."
And far into the night he crooned that tune.
The stars went out and so did the moon.
The singer stopped playing and went to bed
While the Weary Blues echoed through his head.
He slept like a rock or a man that's dead.
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