roxy | Langston Hughes

dolimir_k's Friday Poll made me think of Langston Hughes and how much I enjoyed his Simple Stories when I were a wee Roxy, and that sent me looking for them, and I found this, which made me laugh and then instantly depressed me because it could have been written yesterday instead of forty (!) years ago.
Anyway, give it a read and tell me what you think. And my, goodness wasn't he a handsome man back in the day?
http://www.weblogimages.com/v.p?uid=Roxy&pid=294797&sid=hlL16uwyG6

I'm popping it behind the cut for length, but give it a look-see.

Langston Hughes
(1902-1967)

Dinner Guest: Me

I know I am
The Negro Problem
Being wined and dined,
Answering the usual questions
That come to white mind
Which seeks demurely
To Probe in polite way
The why and wherewithal
Of darkness U.S.A.--
Wondering how things got this way
In current democratic night,
Murmuring gently
Over fraises du bois,
"I'm so ashamed of being white."
The lobster is delicious,
The wine divine,
And center of attention
At the damask table, mine.
To be a Problem on
Park Avenue at eight
Is not so bad.
Solutions to the Problem,
Of course, wait.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

If you'll send my your snail mail, I have a book to send you that I think you'll just love.

Woooo!! Book!! You hit my weak spot! roxy5@comcast.net, my darling! Book!
*koff* my manners. And how are you? *g*

Heh, *shuffles, blushes, feels like dork* You meant my snail mail address, didn't you? *facepalm*

That's a great poem. And he's a beautiful man. Thanks for sharing.

Ah, you welcome Baby. I'm glad you liked it.

What an elegant poem. You can hear the clinking of crystal, the delicate, uncomfortable laughter, the earnest statements being murmured, so politely.

I'm struggling presently with waiting on solutions to a problem. Like Hughes at the fancy dinner on Park Avenue, I hang around the blogosphere and exercise my eloquence. I tell myself that I'm doing something. Maybe I am--maybe I'm part of a consciousness-raising effort that has to happen before people start taking to the streets.

But there's a peace march downtown starting in half an hour, and I'm here, inside, out of the rain, and I already know that I'm not gonna go.

Solutions, of course, wait.

My feeling? Anytime you speak up to deal with an injustice you make a difference, because *someone* out there has stopped and actually thought about what ever stupidity they've been told is truth all their lives.It may not be as satisfying as watching enlightenment spread across someone's mug, but it's happened and it's real and it's at least a step forward. Sometimes it's all you get.

What a lovely, poisonous, and utterly true poem. When you read that, and you think about the miserable inbreds who march under a swastika - or who lynched and then posed for pictures - it's hard to imagine where they got their ideas of 'superiority' from.

Thanks so much for sharing that, and yes - he was a very edible man.
:)

oh, my pleasure my dear! Yeah, it just made me laugh and then kind of wince...

and yes - he was a very edible man. and gay, apparently. :)

Yeah, exactly.
Oh, was he gay? Huh.
:)
*doesn't even LOOK at bunnies*
No, Spike did NOT meet Mr. Hughes, damnit.

*GASP* Yes!!!! Yes he did, in Harlem remember? I think it might have been the twenties or thirties, *nudgenudge* Flings carrots, whole heads of lettuce, broccoli, Jack Daniels, whatever yer bunnies like*

Oh dear GOD i hate you!!
Hate you!!

Summer heat making their skin warm and slick and salty as the sea. Creole Rhapsody scratching out on the Victorola and Lang's hands on Spike's thighs - on his belly. Slow dip of his head and to Spike he tastes like licorice and gin and new-minted honey. Smooth skin of his jaw - dense wire of his hair, freed from the 'do he wore to the club. Scent of smoke and mint and blood where Dru scratched his wrist - words of a poem breathed into his ear and Spike turned them - smiled lazily - bent his head and took him in...

SHREEEEEEEKKKK!!!!
YOU!!
You make me so happy! How can such a short piece be so fucking HOT!!!

God, you're a fuckin' genius! More, more!Oh, you could make it so magic, Spike in New York--man, I can see you following him through the decades, ooo! Out of one hotel--just change the years, but it's the same place, and--did someone else do this already?
did I tell you I'm stupid in love with you?

*hugs you*
Dude. Have i not THOUGHT of doing things like that? Have I not DREAMED it? Historical Spike and Dru....god!!
I WANT to - don't know if i CAN.

*frets*
*kicks bunnies*

This sight? Kicks ass.
http://www.absoluteastronomy.com/encyclopedia/H/Ha/Harlem_Renaissance.htm

Oh, what a great site, thanks!

Hey! you can do it, you have the skills to do it, you can age his character, change his voice slightly without warping it, you write a brilliant Dru, you have the ability to make the surroundings so fucking real, hell, you describing a room can make me cry, you made me cry describing music! I can't see that you wouldn't be able to handle a project like that and as far as reasearch I can help whenever you want, you know I love shit like that--hell what could stop you, right? do it girl, you need to!

Oh fuck me.
Damn you.

I hate you.

*not really*

GAH!!
Harlem. 30's. Black and Tan Fantasy and fuckin' Louie Armstrong and...
fuck.
*sigh*
I'm in.

YAH-HOOOOO!!! *high fives self, trips falls over dog-like creature*

You know you luuurve me...you can not haaate me...becuz you luuuurve me...

*does obnoxious buttwaggle*

*hugkisshug*

*waits*

ARRRRRRRRRGGGGH!!!

Heh.
Blah.
K.
Well.
Gotta go read that sight over, and figure out what Spike and Dru are up to, and...
Hell.
Researchmode!!!
:D
*bounce*

Oooh, you evol thing.
:)
You make me smile and smile.

Did i reply to this already?
Heh.
I'm all confused.

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