#an earth song langston hughes

[marimuntanya]

It's an earth song,— And I've been waiting long for an earth song. It's a spring song,— And I've been waiting long for a spring song.    Strong as the shoots of a new plant    Strong as the bursting of new buds    Strong as the coming of the first child from its mother's womb. It's an earth song, A body song, A spring song, I have been waiting long for this spring song.

Langston Hughes, An Earth Song

[manwalksintobar]

Disillusion  // Langston Hughes

I would be simple again, Simple and clean Like the earth, Like the rain, Nor ever know, Dark Harlem, The wild laughter Of your mirth Nor the salt tears Of your pain. Be kind to me, Oh, great dark city. Let me forget. I will not come To you again.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Art by Fair Trade Frame of Mind by Duy Huynh

* * * *

My boyfriend had been dead four minutes and I was asleep when he my nudged my arm. Baby, he said, I have something to tell you.

Oh, God, I said, seeing him on the edge of my bed, knowing there was a snowstorm between us…knowing he was sick, and of course just KNOWING what this could possibly mean.

This can’t be good, I said out loud – and then the phone rang and really woke me up. His daughter told me, in between sobs, that he had died in the middle of the snowstorm that had kept us apart, and in a moment I was the wife answering the door, the widow without a ring on Christmas morning.

After his funeral, where people I had never met lined up for blocks, wrapping around a small church he never attended - when my friends were getting high in the living room of Virginia’s apartment, I went to lay down, and that’s when he came to me again, gently waking me up, his hand on my forearm.

Music was playing in the other room, the notes gently sliding under my bedroom door - Talking Heads singing same as it ever was, while my friends laughed and cried in the background.

Baby, he said, with his ocean eyes - I have some things to tell you.

He had come to say goodbye, so excited by death he could barely contain himself, and it felt rude to me at the time - me so young in grief, and him so free and happy in this other world that did not yet belong to me, but he explained the dead don't feel grief the same way.

He was kneeling on the floor like he could stay, then sitting on my bed with his legs crossed, and then he told me he couldn’t stay, that this would be our last communication.

When I met this man, we danced a lot. Mostly slow dancing as a prelude to wet, to hard, to flames that licked both our bodies when we got near each other. Sounds came out of the deepest part of me that never left my body when I had been with other men.

I entered my Billie Holiday and Louis Armstrong period beside him, a period I never returned from. We danced to All of Me in my kitchen while I was cooking, my garlic fingers wrapped around his neck.

Her one perfect octave like a songbird entering the all of us.

Love spills.

Love sings.

Love is always a prelude to grief, because if we didn’t love so hard, if we didn’t jump into the fire with all our clothing on, we would never have scars to show for the love when it leaves us.

His breath, when it mingled with mine always smelled of cigars and onions and tomorrow.

After he explained the great forgiveness, after he explained God by not explaining God in the way any of us would expect (he had been an atheist) - after showing me the doorways of death, and how magnificent what was behind each door, he had one last message for me, and today I give that message to you:

He said....music is the language between all the worlds.

And just like that, he was gone, no notes lingering in the air, no hum, no lullaby, no Billy Holiday crooning take all of me.

Just gone.

Today I want to remind you that it's through music we reground, we enter love, we discover our voices. Through music we grieve, reemerge and sometimes rage.

The mockingbird serenaded my lovemaking with another man ten years later, when my thighs learned to sing again.

Songs come from the whales, the songbirds, the frogs and the crickets, the earth. Langston Hughes said, I’ve been waiting long for an earth song.

Maya Angelou tells us why the caged bird sings.

The ancient text of the Perek Shirah, literally means "a Chapter Of Song," reminding us that everything on the earth has a voice, and sings in exultation, not just for mating, or to find food, but in exultation.

I’m inviting you to listen, to sing, and in doing this, to find your voice. This wonderful man, so many years ago, helped me find my voice when it had been silenced for most of my life.

We are in extraordinary times, my friends, and we are all waking up. A lovely Israeli woman staying in my home for four days said she’s standing in the question now, wondering if the song she has been singing her whole life might belong to someone else - perhaps it’s time for her to find her own notes.

This life may at times feel like a nightmare we want to wake from, and that’s because we are literally in between worlds, the old world and the new world, and that liminal space sometimes feels disorienting.

It’s as if we are dying - and in that death of our old selves we must find our voices, our new song - a new way of moving through a new world we can all create together.

One note, one bar, one refrain at a time.

❤

(Laura Lentz)

[ladyimaginarium]

you're holy to me

unknown - tumblr. / gentle earth - anonymous. / langston hughes. / the predatory wasp of the palisades is out to get us - sufjan stevens. / appassionata. / bloodsport; when rome falls - yves olade. / mary oliver. / the song of achilles - madeline miller / i'll give you the sun - jandy nelson. / strawberry blonde - mitski. / giovanni's room - james baldwin. / ojibwa. / lacrymaria olor - nicole dollanganger. / only angels have wings - nicole dollanganger. / smitten with you - nicole dollanganger. / my pug - nicole dollanganger. / my pug - nicole dollanganger. / ojibwa. / unknown. / unknown.

[morwenlovespoems]

Daybreak in Alabama

(by Langston Hughes)

When I get to be a composer

I'm gonna write me some music about

Daybreak in Alabama

And I'm gonna put the purtiest songs in it

Rising out of the ground like a swamp mist

And falling out of heaven like soft dew.

I'm gonna put some tall tall trees in it

And the scent of pine needles

And the smell of red clay after rain

And long red necks

And poppy colored faces

And big brown arms

And the field daisy eyes

Of black and white black white black people

And I'm gonna put white hands

And black hands and brown and yellow hands

And red clay earth hands in it

Touching everybody with kind fingers

And touching each other natural as dew

In that dawn of music when I

Get to be a composer

And write about daybreak

In Alabama.

[lboogie1906]

Clarence Muse (October 14, 1889 – October 13, 1979) was an actor, screenwriter, director, composer, and lawyer. He was the first African American to “star” in a film. He acted for fifty years and appeared in more than 150 movies. He was inducted into the Black Filmmakers Hall of Fame in 1973.

He was acting in New York during the Harlem Renaissance with two Harlem theatres, Lincoln Players and Lafayette Players. While with the Lafayette Players, he worked under the management of producer Robert Levy on productions that helped African American actors gain prominence and respect. In regards to the Lafayette Theatre’s staging of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, he said the play was relevant to African American actors and audiences “because, in a way, it was every Black man’s story. Black men to have been split creatures inhabiting one body.”

He moved to Chicago for a while and then moved to Hollywood. He performed in Hearts in Dixie, the first all-Black movie. He worked regularly in minor and major roles. He appeared as an opera singer, minstrel show performer, vaudeville, and Broadway actor; he also wrote songs, plays, and sketches. He became the first African-American Broadway director with Run Little Chillun.

He was the co-writer of several notable songs. He wrote “When It’s Sleepy Time Down South”, known as “Sleepy Time Down South”. The song was sung by Nina Mae McKinney in Safe in Hell (1931). It became a signature song of Louis Armstrong.

He was the major star in Broken Earth (1936), which related the story of an African American sharecropper whose son miraculously recovers from fever through the father’s fervent prayer. Shot on a farm in the South with nonprofessional actors, the film’s early scenes focused realistically on the physical labor of plowing scenes with African American farmers. He co-starred with boxer Joe Louis in Spirit of Youth, the fictional story of a champion boxer, which featured an all-Black cast. He and Langston Hughes wrote the script for Way Down South. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence #phibetasigma

[fightforthesoulofthecities]

An Earth Song

Strategy & Soul Bookstore presents An Earth Song By Langston Hughes, Illustration by: Tequitia Andrews @strategyandsoulbookstore #AfrocentricBookstore

Discover the power and joy of poetry in the picture book An Earth Song, a simple, modern introduction to Langston Hughes, featuring an ode to spring and long-awaited new beginnings, and heartwarming full-color art by Tequitia Andrews. In this illustrated adaptation of a beloved Langston Hughes poem, a child delights as the world around him awakens from winter and comes to life with the…

[lioninsunheart]

An Earth Song By: Langston Hughes - (1902-1967)

It's an earth song,— And I've been waiting long for an earth song. It's a spring song,— And I've been waiting long for a spring song.    Strong as the shoots of a new plant    Strong as the bursting of new buds    Strong as the coming of the first child from its mother's womb. It's an earth song, A body song, A spring song, I have been waiting long for this spring song.

(Artwork by: Yuir Klapouh-'Rain Through Sunshine-1963)

[april-is]

April 29, 2022: Poem to My Child, If Ever You Shall Be, Ross Gay

Poem to My Child, If Ever You Shall Be Ross Gay

                             —after Steve Scafidi

The way the universe sat waiting to become, quietly, in the nether of space and time,

you too remain some cellular snuggle dangling between my legs, curled in the warm

swim of my mostly quietest self. If you come to be— And who knows?—I wonder, little bubble

of unbudded capillaries, little one ever aswirl in my vascular galaxies, what would you think

of this world which turns itself steadily into an oblivion that hurts, and hurts bad?

Would you curse me my careless caressing you into this world or would you rise up

and, mustering all your strength into that tiny throat which one day, no doubt, would grow big and strong,

scream and scream and scream until you break the back of one injustice, or at least get to your knees to kiss back to life

some roadkill? I have so many questions for you, for you are closer to me than anyone

has ever been, tumbling, as you are, this second, through my heart’s every chamber, your teeny mouth

singing along with the half-broke workhorse’s steady boom and gasp. And since we’re talking today I should tell you,

though I know you sneak a peek sometimes through your father’s eyes, it’s a glorious day,

and there are millions of leaves collecting against the curbs, and they’re the most delicate shade of gold

we’ve ever seen and must favor the transparent wings of the angels you’re swimming with, little angel.

And as to your mother—well, I don’t know— but my guess is that lilac bursts from her throat

and she is both honeybee and wasp and some kind of moan to boot and probably she dances in the morning—

but who knows? You’ll swim beneath that bridge if it comes. For now let me tell you about the bush called honeysuckle

that the sad call a weed, and how you could push your little sun-licked face into the throngs and breathe and breathe.

Sweetness would be your name, and you would wonder why four of your teeth are so sharp, and the tiny mountain range

of your knuckles so hard. And you would throw back your head and open your mouth at the cows lowing their human songs

in the field, and the pigs swimming in shit and clover, and everything on this earth, little dreamer, little dreamer

of the new world, holy, every rain drop and sand grain and blade of grass worthy of gasp and joy and love, tiny shaman,

tiny blood thrust, tiny trillion cells trilling and trilling, little dreamer, little hard hat, little heartbeat,

little best of me.

--

Today in: 

2021: Choi Jeong Min, Franny Choi 2020: Earl, Louis Jenkins 2019: Kul, Fatimah Asghar 2018: My Life Was the Size of My Life, Jane Hirshfield 2017: I Would Ask You To Reconsider The Idea That Things Are As Bad As They’ve Ever Been, Hanif Abdurraqib 2016: Tired, Langston Hughes 2015: Democracy, Langston Hughes 2014: Postscript, Seamus Heaney 2013: The Ghost of Frank O’Hara, John Yohe 2012: All Objects Reveal Something About the Body, Catie Rosemurgy 2011: Prayer, Marie Howe 2010: The Talker, Chelsea Rathburn 2009: There Are Many Theories About What Happened, John Gallagher 2008: bon bon il est un pays, Samuel Beckett 2007: Root root root for the home team, Bob Hicok 2006: Fever 103°, Sylvia Plath 2005: King Lear Considers What He’s Wrought, Melissa Kirsch

[crymeariveronceagain]

If you could describe all the kotlc kids with a poem. What would it be? I read your stories w Biana/Alvar and poetry so now I'm kinda curious-

oooooh what a fun askkkk!!!

Sophie Foster: "Ozymandias", by Percy Bysshe Shelley.

My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings; Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair! Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.

Keefe Sencen: "The Fool's Prayer", by Edward Roland Sill.

’T is not by guilt the onward sweep Of truth and right, O Lord, we stay; ’T is by our follies that so long We hold the earth from heaven away.

Fitz Vacker: "Genius Child" by Langston Hughes.

Can you love an eagle, Tame or wild? Can you love an eagle, Wild or tame? Can you love a monster Of frightening name?

Nobody loves a genius child.

Kill him - and let his soul run wild.

Biana Vacker: Henry The Fifth's Monologue in Act Four, Scene One, by William Shakespeare.

What is thy soul of adoration? Art thou aught else but place, degree and form, Creating awe and fear in other men? Wherein thou art less happy being fear'd Than they in fearing. What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet, But poison'd flattery? O, be sick, great greatness, And bid thy ceremony give thee cure!

Tam Song: "Mending Wall" by Robert Frost.

Before I built a wall I'd ask to know What I was walling in or walling out And to whom I was like to give offense. Something there is that doesn't love a wall, That wants it down.’ I could say ‘Elves’ to him, But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather He said it for himself. 

Linh Song: "Sea-Fever", by John Masefield.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying, And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

Marella Redek: "We Real Cool", by Gwendolyn Brooks.

We real cool. We     Left school. We

    Lurk late. We    Strike straight. We

  Sing sin. We       Thin gin. We

 Jazz June. We        Die soon.

Dex Dizznee: "The Owl-Critic", by James Thomas Fields.

Anatomy teaches, Ornithology preaches, An owl has a toe That can't turn out so! I've made the white owl my study for years, And to see such a job almost moves me to tears! Mr. Brown, I'm amazed You should be so gone crazed As to put up a bird In that posture absurd! To look at that owl really brings on a dizziness; The man who stuffed him don't half know his business!" And the barber kept shaving.

Stina Heks: "Marriage", by Marrianne Moore.

She loves herself so much, she cannot see herself enough -- a statuette of ivory on ivory, the logical last touch to an expansive splendor earned as wages for work done:

Maruca Chebota: "Crossing The Brooklyn Ferry", by Walt Whitman.

It is not upon you alone the dark patches fall, The dark threw its patches down upon me also, The best I had done seem’d to me blank and suspicious, My great thoughts as I supposed them, were they not in reality meagre?

Glimmer(because I love the idea of her I've created in my mind): "There's A Certain Slant Of Light" by Emily Dickinson.

Heavenly Hurt, it gives us – We can find no scar, But internal difference – Where the Meanings, are –

[princesscrownprince]

🧩 🌟 , 🌜, and 🐇 … 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ 🧩

🌟- For a secret wish or desire of theirs.

—❝ Lukas Alischer... ❞

“If you love me, no ocean will keep us apart,

mountains or rivers.

If you love me, you will find a way to be close to me

Whatever life brings.

If you love me, you will show me a path we can walk together

Side by side.

If you love me, you will take me to uncharted seas to explore,

holding hands.

If you love me, you will see nowhere grey,

Only red, the color of fire.

If you love me, you will be the sky in my life

And let me be your sun.

If you love me, you will keep me deep into your heart

And never let me go.

If you love me, you will show me the new moon

And make a wish.

If you love me, I will be in your world,

Forever.

If you love me, you will let me cherish your love,

and sink my soul in this.

If you love me, you will not choose silence,

Silence can be vengeance.

If you love me, never let me leave your mind,

My place is there.

But if you do not love me

Let me only dream of your love.” — If You Love Me, Leloudia Migdali

—❝ Kai Alischer... ❞

“I will take your heart.

I will take your soul out of your body

As though I were God.

I will not be satisfied

With the touch of your hand

Nor the sweet of your lips alone.

I will take your heart for mine.

I will take your soul.

I will be God when it comes to you.” — To Artina, Langston Hughes

—❝ Zaliki... ❞

“Like a bird in a cage

I've been locked up too long.

It's time for me to spread my wings

and fly away.

There's a life waiting for me

So much more for me to see.

Instead of these four walls

that surround me everyday.

I wanna be free, I wanna be free

I want to soar high, into the sky

and feel the breeze beneath my wings.

I wanna be free, I wanna be free...

I want to see the outside world

and be all that I can be.

My life is too routine

It's time to change the scene.

and now the time has come for me to fly.

So many time in our lives

things don't go as we have planned.

Please don't shed no tears for me

you've got to understand

I wanna be free.” — I Wanna Be Free, Ronald Kerst

—❝ Asra... ❞

“Not for the sake of the gold,

Not for the sake of the fame,

Not for the prize would I hold

Any ambition or aim:

I would be brave and be true

Just for the good I can do.

I would be useful on earth,

Serving some purpose or cause,

Doing some labor of worth,

Giving no thought to applause.

Thinking less of the gold or the fame

Than the joy and the thrill of the game.

Medals their brightness may lose,

Fame be forgotten or fade,

Any reward we may choose

Leaves the account still unpaid.

But little real happiness lies

In fighting alone for a prize.

Give me the thrill of the task,

The joy of the battle and strife,

Of being of use, and I'll ask

No greater reward from this life.

Better than fame or applause

Is striving to further a cause.” — Purpose, Edgar Albert Guest

—❝ Hagiel... ❞

“Those races with moon

And plating from morning till noon,

The curiosity to understand everything

Watching TV for hours without a blink.

The freedom to eat as much as you want,

There was no one to whom I would show off or flaunt.

Always surrounded by someone who would wipe away my tears

And fly away all my fears.

Fun, Recklessness and Love were always near.

Running before those butterflies and flowers

And playing with those trucks and towers.

Unusual thoughts rambled in my mind,

Solutions to all problems were very easy to find.

I want all those days back in my life

Before I am forced to opt for a knife. ” — I Want My Childhood Back, Nikhil Gupta

🌜- For a ‘weird’ habit or tic that no one knows about.

—❝ Lukas Alischer... ❞

• Ballroom dancing with skeletons or corpses.

• Twirling around every time he wears a skirt or a dress.

• Doing a catwalk every time he wears heels.

• Humming songs whenever he's alone, in order to not be lost in his thoughts.

• Tapping his nails on hard surfaces.

—❝ Kai Alischer... ❞

• Whenever he lays down on his brother's bed, he needs to contort his body in a weird yet comfortable position.

• Wears his earphones all the time, even if he's not playing music.

• Whenever he stands in front of a mirror, he has to flip his reflection off.

• Measures time with music.

• Letting himself fall back on mattresses or couches.

—❝ Zaliki... ❞

• Must always have at least 5 bottles of wine in stock.

• The urge to twerk whenever upbeat music plays.

• Cupping her breasts after taking a bath and dressing up.

• Can't go to sleep if she doesn't flip her pillow first.

• Yawning the moment something bores her.

—❝ Asra... ❞

• Every movement of theirs must be perfectly angled.

• Smells a book first before reading.

• Always eats with a cup of tea.

• Writes a schedule and/or a to-do list everyday.

• Only goes to sleep when they pass out from exhaustion.

—❝ Hagiel... ❞

• Before he goes to sleep, he likes to day dream about a magical fantasy world where he's an adventurer on a quest.

• Would occasionally flick his hair.

• Sits on the window sill whenever he wants to read or take a nap.

• Can't focus or concentrate if the room is too quiet or too loud.

• When reading novels, he would occasionally pause his reading to daydream before continuing on where he left off.

🐇- For a secret item they keep (stuffed animal, comfort object, etc)

—❝ Lukas Alischer... ❞

• Brüderchen und Schwesterchen by the Brothers Grimm and illustrated by Viktor Vasnetsov ( 1812 ).

• It was a gift given to him by Zaliki when they were younger. The Adler had found out that Lukas had never read a fairytale storybook before and thus, decided to gift him one.

• It was a storybook that made Lukas learn about familial brotherly love.

—❝ Kai Alischer... ❞

• Ostheimer Wooden Doll.

• Lukas gifted this to Kai one night when the twins were strictly prohibited from meeting each other. Lukas offered it as, "When I'm with you, just think of this as me and I'll always be with you."

• Lukas got it from a shopping trip with Zaliki.

—❝ Zaliki... ❞

• A paper crown.

• It was a crown made by Hagiel when they were both younger and dreaming about being Kings of the palace together.

—❝ Asra... ❞

• A handkerchief.

• It was the very first item Zaliki has ever given to Asra when the Adler took them in.

—❝ Hagiel... ❞

• A cardboard crown.

• It was a crown made by Zaliki when they were both younger and dreaming about being Kings of the palace together.

[manwalksintobar]

An Earth Song // Langston Hughes

It's an earth song,— And I've been waiting long for an earth song.  It's a spring song,— And I've been waiting long for a spring song.      Strong as the shoots of a new plant      Strong as the bursting of new buds     Strong as the coming of the first child from its mother's womb.  It's an earth song,  A body song,  A spring song,  I have been waiting long for this spring song. 

[soracities]

Do you know any quotes relating love to religion? "Worship at your feet" kind of vibe, ya know?

— Hozier, “From Eden”

“I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion – I have shudder’d at it – I shudder no more – I could be martyr’d for my Religion – Love is my religion – I could die for that – I could die for you.”

— John Keats, in a letter to Fanny Brawne

“What were the use of my creation, if I were entirely contained here? My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff’s miseries, and I watched and felt each from the beginning: my great thought in living is himself. If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it.—My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I’m well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary… I am Heathcliff! He’s always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.”

— Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights

“I’m a sorcerer, my love’s like incense…. / I’m a sorcerer, my love’s a fire, an altar, an ember. / I turn into smoke.”

— Adonis, “Transformations of the Lover”

“Thou art not luminousYet an altar of jewels,An altar of shimmering jewels,Would pale in the lightOf that darkness,Pale in the lightOf thy nightness.”

— Langston Hughes, “Poem (To the Black Beloved)”

“My church offers no absolutes / She tells me “Worship in the bedroom” / The only Heaven I’ll be sent to / Is when I’m alone with you.”

— Hozier, “Take Me to Church”   

“Imagine yourself a sun pyramid draped in green vines. Let me climb your steps and worship the brilliant, blinding sky from above the treeline.

Tell me, what names have been whispered at your altar? What language would you like me to use when I whisper yours?”

— Kerry Banazek, “As an Experiment”

— Jeff Buckley, “Lover, You Should Have Come Over” (selected lines)

“I’ll follow thee and make a heaven of hell.To die upon the hand I love so well.”

— William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream

“Forget Eden.We’re not going back.Adam and EveHad no regrets.“Good riddance,”She said.“So we were fed.He treated us like animals.Adam, I love you.”“I love you, too,”He said.“Nothing beats breadBaked with your sweat.”Forget Eden.We’re not going back.”

— Reesom Haile, “No Regrets”

“There, in the sulk of her bottom lip, I find myself talking about a heaven that only exists when she is looking at me.”

— Azra Tabassum, “Take Me to Church” ( @5000letters​ )

“I don’t know how to become one with you.If you’re heaven, then tell me.I will kneel to every god.If you’re hell, then tell me.I will fill the earth with sin.”

— Abdulla Pashew, “Union

“When I was kissin’ on my baby / And she’d put her love down, soft and sweet / In the low lamp light I was free / Heaven and Hell were words to me.”

— Hozier, “Work Song”

— William Shakespeare, Romeo & Juliet

“It’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you / Everything I do / I tell you all the time / Heaven is a place on Earth with you / Tell me all the things you wanna do…/ They say that the world was built for two.”

— Lana Del Rey, “Video Games”

“Tell her you feel most religious when she’s sitting naked in a chair.Tell her religion is all you need. “

— Kimberley Grey, “How to Keep the One You Love”

“Your kiss is honey and your touch scorches like fire, and I worship it.”

— Neil Gaiman, American Gods

— Hozier, “Take Me to Church”

“A cathedral, him pressing againstme, his lips at my neck, and yes, I do believehis mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over melike stars.”

— Richard Siken, “Saying Your Names”

“They can hold against meNo sin except my love for youCome to meDon’t go away

Let the zealots thinkLoving is sinfulNever mindLet me burn in the hellfireOf that sin.”

— Mihri Hatun, “At One Glance”

— Hozier, “Sunlight”

[ruknowhere]

Daybreak in Alabama

by Langston Hughes

When I get to be a composer

I'm gonna write me some music about

Daybreak in Alabama

And I'm gonna put the purtiest songs in it

Rising out of the ground like a swamp mist

And falling out of heaven like soft dew.

I'm gonna put some tall tall trees in it

And the scent of pine needles

And the smell of red clay after rain

And long red necks

And poppy colored faces

And big brown arms

And the field daisy eyes

Of black and white black white black people

And I'm gonna put white hands

And black hands and brown and yellow hands

And red clay earth hands in it

Touching everybody with kind fingers

And touching each other natural as dew

In that dawn of music when I

Get to be a composer

And write about daybreak

In Alabama.

- Langston Hughes

[thelibraryiscool]

Samarkand! Green-curled Samarkand! City of Tamerlane, the Earth Shaker; before that city of Genghis Khan, leader of the Mongols; and before that the sporting ground of Alexander the Great, who murdered within its gates his old friend, Clitus, when both were drunk with wine three thousand years ago. Samarkand, flourishing center of Arabic culture in the twelfth century; seat of the ancient observatory of Ulug Beg; golden name to the Venetian merchants in those Middle Ages of silks from Cathay and spices from Samarkand; lovely song-city of the Oriental poets; city of the turquoise domes—Samarkand! Green-curled Samarkand. Today the old Samarkand is there for all who wish to see it in its crumbling splendor. The new Samarkand is a silk factory and a Communist University, a hydro-electric station and a Medical School. According to the Soviet Guide Book, it is also a commercial distribution point for “huge provisions of dried fruit, grapes, rice, raw hides and wine.” Its main street is now called Karl Marx Street.

-- Langston Hughes, I Wonder as I Wander

[postnuclearophelia]

Daybreak in Alabama

When I get to be a composer I’m gonna write me some music about Daybreak in Alabama And I’m gonna put the purtiest songs in it Rising out of the ground like a swamp mist And falling out of heaven like soft dew. I’m gonna put some tall tall trees in it And the scent of pine needles And the smell of red clay after rain And long red necks And poppy colored faces And big brown arms And the field daisy eyes Of black and white black white black people And I’m gonna put white hands And black hands and brown and yellow hands And red clay earth hands in it Touching everybody with kind fingers And touching each other natural as dew In that dawn of music when I Get to be a composer And write about daybreak In Alabama.

Langston Hughes, 1940