Langston Hughes

[roxy]

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.

Comments

[kaydee23.livejournal.com]

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

[fromward.livejournal.com]

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

[emeraldsedai.livejournal.com]

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.

[tabaqui]

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.
:)