Thursday, February 02, 2006


Today's poem (from the Poetry Speaks table calendar I received for Christmas) is called 'Harlem,' written by Langston Hughes, who wrote poetry for the poor and marginalised in American society. Thus his poems are very accessible and shimmer with a sense of simplicity and directness.

A beauty, this one.


What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

1 comment:

silentsoliloquy said...

My friend Kang Zarul who has an ardent interest in African Americans enjoyed poetry by Langston Hughes. I remember he even brought up his name in one of our debates... "Does Literature Shape Human Values?"