Best Hughes Poems
They wouldn’t let me be White
Oh I wanted to be
Dreams of that Pulitzer haunted me
They said, Sir, you have ten minutes to play
I gave them Milton, Poe and Millay
I stood before that panel
Like I was auditioning for Jesus On judgment day
I belted out those rhymes like Sandburg
Gave them sweet elegant words
I gave them personification and anapest
Gave them Trochee with syllables unstressed
I played those Robert Frost Blues
Those Road less traveled Blues
Those Thomas Hardy
going down on the Titanic Blues-
And they said, Son, You could be the greatest
Since Langston Hughes!
And oh I was out of sight
Switched up / Got Fancy
Moved the stressed syllable
From the middle to the right
But still they wouldn’t let me be White
I had every judge popping their fingers
Moving their heads from left to right
So I took a bow
And smiled up at those lights
I gave them Dickinson, Browning and Keats
Oh I had those White judges on their feet
I played until they saw stars
A judge leaned over and said,
You remind me so much of- What’s his name?
Paul Lawrence Dunbar
I played Eliot I played Cummings
I played Stevens too
I had those White Poets out of their shoes
Oh I lifted them a hundred miles off the ground
But when they came down
They said, You could be the next Sterling Brown
I said, Come on! Get out of town!
I closed that audition with my best Haiku
They said, M.e. Don’t take this wrong we like you
I took a final bow I had performed to their delight
But still they wouldn’t let me be White
THE POET'S PLUCK - Langston Hughes
I Dream a World
where all people will be
Walkers With The Dawn
and completely free
In The Time Of Silver Rain
is the fresh new breeze
Juke Box Love Song
Springtime melodies
I Continue to Dream
though some hopes have not come
God comforts the losses
like a Mother to Son
The Dream Keeper sleeps not
Nightmare warrior is he
Weaves a poem and a song
Theme For English B
2/19/17
THE POETS PLUCK
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose
Imagine sitting down and eating
chocolate bars with Glenn Hughes
Nothing could be sweeter
than this grand event
Think of all the bittersweet dialog
talking about lyrics for upcoming songs
and reflecting on his 50 years of music
Would there be nuts in your chocolate
and maybe dip them in a bit of honey
One can only dream of such circumstances
maybe a contest in order to make it come true
Anyway, I’m on my way to Wawa
to get chocolate bars
while my radio
is tuned to Glenn Hughes
Written from black hands,
Innovative jazz poems:
Harlem renaissance.
Germaphobe Howard Hughes - reclusive billionaire -
made a plane of wood and loved to ride the air!
Bought his own hotel, just to hide himself from sight
and watched his own TV station’s movies late at night.
Howard Hughes
was always in the news
He came up with one heck of a crazy notion.
A plane filled with ping pong balls, should it fall into the ocean.
Feb 2011 For Catie's "clerihew" contest
For Langston Hughes
What sends them Harvard poets
I just couldn't do it, Sir:
What sends them Harvard poets
I just couldn't do it, Sir:
They'll never give me a Pulitzer.
What tickles them Yale poets
Just leaves me sad an' a grievin':
What tickles them Yale poets
Leaves me sad an' a grievin':
Never seen no Birch trees
On a snowy evenin'.
Then Oxford poets got they poems
An' I gots mine...
So I'll be movin' on, Langston
Movin' down the line....
Michael Ellis
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QTPIJW_nVCY
I pity him, a young black teen
Trying to be a man with no self-esteem
He examines his life but still can't get it right
His history and past still affecting him at night
He dreams dreams where he relives the past
When he was talked about for not being very fast
A fat boy, dedicated to his love
Rejected affection is what he dreams of
His attempts at sports earned him a bad place
In which he was called a disgrace to his race
And sadly he had a very weak heart
Falling for every girl in hopes to brighten up his dark
Empty, alone, he searched for his essence
Something he could use to embrace in his darkness
The job was open but no one would commit
No one would help to pull him out of this abyss
A quiet boy, what they call honest and sweet
Mistreated, deleted, and beat to his knees
Closed eyes he listens to the laughter
It shaped him, molded him, just like beaten batter
He's now 17 and has an intriguing mind
He knows what to fix but doesn't know how to bind
To seal the torn edges of his soul
To direct the path in which his emotions go
He's no longer bullied but his mind is on self-destruct
Never felt the love of a pretty girls touch
Somethings still wrong but he doesn't know what
What's repelling them, is he not enough
He opens his eyes looking through a wet mist
A single tear falls and he clenches his fist
He sits up listening to his hearts drum
And at last the next day has finally begun
HUGHES (HUES)
I’ll challenge you to speak of rivers
For the love of Mississippi mud
Purposely I’m a little outcast.
My racial pride has grown from his poetic lines
We pay and pick up all that hasn’t washed away.
Out of yesterday I’ll build my America
Dark Baby’s tomorrow, Dark Baby’s hair, Dark Baby’s hands
Been a slave, a worker, a singer, and a victim:
For the love of my hue I pay my debts to Langston Hughes.
Written: February 28, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
***********************
I long to explore
the depth of your flummoxed mind,
fathom the forms of
your emotions,
and outline the scenery of
in dreams of avarice
It seems to be the right time
to thrive, to flourish
In this sacred space,
we build together,
from strands of gloom
where whispers bear root
and emotion bloom.
in quiet, we'll savor
the halcyon garden
of dancing daffodils
and radiant rays,
beyond splendid orbs
and fluttering, fickle flowers
Can't you catch a glimpse
of life not being all gray?
We have never felt so uplifted
and so high full of hope!
waiting wistfully beneath
the whispering willow.
As time ticks by,
I have been tallying,
and now it's time
to amend our perspective.
On this onyx challenge, I face,
there are no winners to find.
My role isn't to create
splattered, noxious rhymes;
rather, I often seek escape from it all.
I strive to express
our communion,
as we sow and reap
In this shared space
Of ideas and inspirations,
to freeze the marvelous symphony
within your solipsistic gaze;
don't you long to
reconnect with my maze,
the joy of everyday life?
and capture that fantastic
Melody in my spirit too?
It only takes a moment,
or so they say.
Langston Hughes. 'CROSS '
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She was welcomed into my house
where she entered and said…
what is that quite romantic music playing?
Oh, it is Glenn Hughes on my vinyl record player
and I showed her how it spins and plays the tunes
she was amazed
And then she asked me…
may I have this dance
to which I held her in my arms
Glenn sang and we danced
bowed and swayed, scooted and hopped
all the maneuvers of lovers
And then I looked in her eyes
and she was crying
“What is it my love”, I asked
“It is that I wish to dance with you to Glenn’s music
For all eternity, forever and a day
I don’t ever want to stop”
“But my love”, I said…
“Glenn has over 50 years of songs
We can dance through the night to all his albums”
Her tears began to dry
As she let me hold her dear tight
and she moved in rhythm and twirled in my arms
“Would you like to see Glenn in concert”, I asked
“Oh would I” she exclaimed
“Then a trip to the venue it will be”
But tonight will be with Glenn on vinyl
singing his romantic songs to us
as we so deeply embrace
Why garden when you can listen to Glenn Hughes
Why watch tv when you can listen to Glenn Hughes
Why do anything at all except listen to Glenn
When you come into my house
The first thing you will notice
Is Glenn Hughes playing on my vinyl record player
I have all of his albums
From Deep Purple to Black Country Commuion
He is the master of the art of music
And his bass lines triumph my heart beats
So why are you waiting
Get listening to Glenn
From Voodoo Hill to California Breed
He’ll make you dance
And make your soul soar with delight
Let us love Glenn
We love you Glenn
In the morning her eyes paint the cities horizon.
Stretching and yawning.
Getting dressed; Her blue tapestry.
Opening the door to her apartment
She climbs down broken stairs.
It's payday Friday.
The mail man is late again.
Opening her box closing it right back.
She considers direct deposit,
Climbing back up those old creaks in the stairs.
To a notice on the door.
Excessive noise complaint
Rent past due
Movin on again, just waitin for the train.
Its tracking round the bend.
Left you a message with my love to send.
You know I’m waitin for your answer.
Need to know your feelins, darlin I depend.
Need that lovin sensation you bring to me.
On the train now to another destiny.
Trackin away from you always makes me blue.
Rattlin of this train, I wanna be closer to you.
Baby you are the one I really need.
Yet this big train is taking me away in speed.
Darkness falls and it’s my only belief.
Train taking me as if it’s a thief.
Baby as I gaze out the window I have to mention.
Movin away from you - you have all my attention.
Trackin away from you always makes me blue.
Rattling of this train, I wanna be closer to you.
Phone close to my ear, I long to hear.
Your sweet voice whisper to me.
I wanna feel your embrace. Kiss your sweet face.
I wanna be with you again I want you on this train.