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.
Harlem
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:
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?"
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