Hughes... "when i post my masterpiece"...

Jazz Poetry: Today would be Langston Hughes' 113 birthday. "James Mercer Langston Hughes was an American poet, social activist, novelist, playwright, and columnist. He was one of the earliest innovators of the then-new literary art form called jazz poetry." Google Doodle celebrated Hughes with one of his poems set to type and jazz piano...

I Dream A World

By Langston Hughes

I dream a world where man

No other man will scorn,

Where love will bless the earth

And peace its paths adorn

I dream a world where all

Will know sweet freedom's way,

Where greed no longer saps the soul

Nor avarice blights our day.

A world I dream where black or white,

Whatever race you be,

Will share the bounties of the earth

And every man is free,

Where wretchedness will hang its head

And joy, like a pearl,

Attends the needs of all mankind-

Of such I dream, my world!

Hughes' Cosmogram Medallion in Harlem

My introduction: I discovered Langston Hughes and the Harlem Renaissance in high school thanks to an amazing poetry teacher, and through plays I saw at Center Stage (in Baltimore) through the drama club, most notably:
The Heliotrope Bouquet By Scott Joplin and Louis Chauvin Written by Eric Overmyer. I was so taken by this dream play that I began reading more about the Harlem Renaissance and tried to fill in the social historical gaps in my "history knowledge" of my own country. I fell in love with the stories I found there, both inspiring and tragic. I have no knowledge that Hughes was particularly influenced by Joplin, but the two are married in my mind as each represent artists from a time when Harlem was one of the cultural hot spots of the world. Hughes, no doubt, grew up listening to Ragtime along with the jazz and blues that was exploding out of Harlem in the early 1900s. 

The Weary Blues
by Langston Highes

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.

Jumping off... "when i post my masterpiece": The Harlem Renaissance was an explosion of creation; Art, music, writing! The internet has allowed us so much easy access to much of this art. What a gift! A friend of mine has been posting a series of paintings to a blog for months now, each post, another "masterpiece." I have been savoring so much from this list and continue to reflect how much art is essential to who we are, not just an "extra" in times of prosperity. Why do we strive so hard to succeed? In order to create! Please peruse "another althingsconsidered" for some more glorious creation...