This man saw himself more than just white or black;
he knew mixing them did not equate to gray.
A transient, a traveler, leaving, he’d come back,
and morning’d see him on his way, no need to stay ...
just moving on, moving on, writing poetry and books,
wandering the Champs Elysees or Montmartre,
exploring winding streets and cozy nooks
while clutching memories to warm his heart.
Moving on, moving on, he couldn’t settle down
in this city where prejudice could not take root --
where Liberty’s sister’s torch lit the town,
race was no object, the subject was moot.
Knowing the freedom of Paris, he’d stray
along the Seine, espy the glory of Versailles --
while watching bullfights with Hemingway.
his spirit would take wing and fly.
Destiny waited for his genius to float
to America, where his plumage would grow.
Gathering his thoughts, he stepped off the boat,
a man for the ages; soon the whole world would know.
Author notes
If reading this aloud, I pronounce "root" to rhyme with the word "toot". If you pronounce it wrong, the line falls flat.
The poem was written after I'd read every one of his poems on Old Poetry, but the one that seemed to me to be the most relevant was Let America Be America Again:
http://oldpoetry.com/opoem/12624-Langston-Hughes-Let-America-Be-America-Again
I felt that he was growing as a poet with every transition he made in his life, and that Paris had to have been a major influence for him, as it was for so many others. The time he spent there was at a major juncture in his life, and the people he met there were seminal to the way he viewed the world, or rather came to view the world.
A contest entry
- Make Them Smile- great Old Poet inspiration by Peteskid.
2000 points, ended March 15, 2009, 8 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think?
Comments
1 - 21 of 21
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Marvelous poem on one of my favorite poets, he was so eloquent, a very inspirational poet. I for one love histories of all kinds and there is nothing better than stories of how poets expanded and grew. You have handled the subject excellently. Congratulations on the well-deserved silver.
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Wow, this is a great history of a poet to remember. I like to read historical poetry wherever I can find it. Your poem about him is well written and it makes it even more interesting after reading your poem.
Thank you very much for your entry
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"This man saw himself more than just white or black;
he knew mixing them did not equate to gray."
Great opening lines here, and the poem was solid from beginning to end. Congrats ona well deserved silver trophy for it.
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Note to self ...
Write contest rules with more care, OK poets are artists and I said artist not painter so the poems gets in fine
A superb celebration of a wonderful poet. I too read all his poems on oldpoetry recently, thank-you for the thoughtful entry.
Jeff
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This definitely had an Old World poetry feel to it. You've captured a very rolling and lyrical feel and displayed quite a bit of mastery in presenting it. Although a few of the douche rules were broken, it wasn't with the poem, which stands out like a snapdragon amid a row of graying violets.
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You are truly an excellent writer.
Congratulations on the silver.
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Thanks for stopping by ...
I hope life is treating you well nowadays, or relatively at any rate.
Nice to hear from you.
J.D.
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Cross by Langston Hughes
My old ma was a white old man
and my old mother's black.
If I ever curesed my white old man,
I take my curses back.
If I ever cursed my old black mother
and wished she were in hell,
I'm sorry for that evil wish
and now I wish her well.
My old man dies in a fine big house
My Ma died in a shack.
I wonder where I'm gonna die
being neither white nor black
I perform this work from The Black Poet Laureate in a show called "Rhythms of the (Harlem) Renaissance". Langston Hughes is the poet who inspired me to become a writer. He heralds from Cleveland, Ohio and attended the same High School that my mother attended. I worked at Karamu House for nine years, and my office was his
old apartment.
I needed to share these things because your poem made me miss my past job and reminded me that I absolutely love this poet. You made the reality of which he is/was shine in my eyes. What a grand job you have done here poet. I am in awe and wish you the highest congratulations!
Much Love & Respect ♥
Renee
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Sorry to take so long ...
to get back to you. I've been ill, and am not here much now.
I appreciate the point you've made and understand very well how much memories can mean to us -- particularly in these evil times.
Best of luck to you in your writing career.
Unfortunately, mine seems to be over, as I can't seem to write any more. When I'm not feeling well, it seems to be impossible to write.
Mille fois merci.
J.D.
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You are very blessed with the will to learn, and to express that insight you have to others. A well done piece of poetry to say the least. May your pen continue to flow eternal. Peace poet. -Timothy.
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Thanks.
Sorry to take so long to get back to you. I've been ill.
I appreciate the kind words in any case.
J.D.
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Great slice of history!
Nothing "falls flat" here, "01"! A most loving and glowing tribute!
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[I read the Old Poetry poem and left a comment there, thank you.]
I have to believe that Hughes would flash that smirk, and that glance...the one that always told me...
This world is not ready for me... not yet.
I also had the feeling when reading that he stepped off the boat and realized he had left more freedom in Paris than he would find in America, but it was here that his heart chose to fight and struggle; to move the monolith toward the places it later found where tolerance and knowledge grew faster than small minded hatred. A thoughtful expression here of an influential episode of an important American life. Vivid and expressive, wonderful poetry. Thank you for this fine entry into the contest, and best of luck in the judging...PK
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Yes ...
I think that he regretted leaving Paris, but home is where the heart is.
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If Huhes could be considered an American midwesterner with communists leanings,so must I be. That linked piece by him puts him ahead of his time in ajudgement of the faux great American dream . It's even more relivent today than when he wrote it. As for this piece of creative poetry verse you've penned here. It speaks to the idea of needing to view a situation from afar,/abroad/ in order to see it clearly. Never has it been easy to see America's short comings by those wishing for freedom and democracy being fed a steady diet of lies . Guess that's capitalism for ya! Alway capitolize on the sweat and worked labor of another in profiteering fashion.Steal/grab and finagal all you can while pulling the wool over eyes in patriotic lies.
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Yes, the Republicans ...
perfected the method of pulling the wool over your eyes with patriotic lies under Bush, but hopefully they have been discredited enough that that kind of crap will never again come out to eat away at free societies again. I guess we'll have to wait and see, but at least we can hope so.
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Absolutely splendid...
....effort with superb rhyme and rhythm.
I've never even heard of the subject of the poem, so I think I'll wander down to OP and check him out.
All the best.
Robin.
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Thanks ...
for stopping by.
I believe his most famous poem was "The Negro Speaks of Rivers", but he was influential in many ways, and was a rather remarkable person in toto.
Haven't heard much from you lately. I hope all is well in your world? -
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AOK Old Lad thanks.
Off line for a month as my French phone line was down for that time.
Encroyable non?
One has to have a line with France Telecom - then I use FREE for phone and internet services, as they give us free International calls.
However, people like me are last in line when we have a problem, and apparently there was a fire near our village which put a few phones out of action.
It only took 448,999,000 phone calls to get me back on line.
We moan about customer services in the UK, but Frogland is a law unto itself. They don't give a f**k!
All the best.
R. -
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Yes ...
the French are going to do what the French are going to do, and that's that.
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a fine poem
the contest title was lived up to, i believe in this poem,but as i read it a few more times i sensed overwhelming tenderness with the way you handled writing this,you wizard you.
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