Weary Soul

this poem is my take on weary blues by langston hughes Langston hughes truly was a great poet and one of the best ever! Bombilating a snappy euphony rhyme Fingers crackling against palm and time I heard a soul play Down on dike street the other night By the dark alley illuminated by car lights Her words were a tail rhyme Her words were a tail rhyme The holy melancholy catachresis Was an oxymoron to my ears It brought life but was killing me inside to hear With those ebony hands wrapped around the standing mic She made that mic vocalize her soul’s cry O poetry! I remember fingers crackling against palm and nature She spoke words turning carpe diem to a sweet cacophony imprisonment Of syllables slipping off her tongue. Sweet poetry! Coming from a black Woman’s SOUL! cafe O poetry! In a deep performance, her voice rang I heard the soul sing, and the mic cry! “Lord, has she stolen your diary of my life? Or have you given her the word to “kill me with poetry” Her tongue has conversed with my soul tonight Don’t let this sweet death sentence end Let her recite my death in words again! Snap snap snap, went fingers to palm Her next words cracked lyrics worse verse against my unshielded heart “ Lord what Is this poetry I hear? Don’t let it stop” This weary soul needs rest in her words For I know now the angel of death Has shown grace upon me!” I Got a weary Soul And her words give me rest I got a weary soul And her words give me rest But it’s killing me slowly And far into the night that spoken word rang The stars had ears that night And the sun crackled snaps too, through the universe To her words The night of poetry, that soul on the mic Retired home While that souls words echoed through my souls expression In the end, my walk began again, and my weary soul Continued to search the world but found none like That night on dike.