http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bob_Devin_Jones
(he told us his mom wrote this article), if you want to read more about him.
Buuuuut really we did not hear Bob Devin Jones, we heard LANGSTON HUGHES.
That's right....THE Langston Hughes of the Harlem Renaissance.
It was actually very cool.
Langston Hughes had a really cool voice and he was awesome at reciting poetry.
Here is one poem that Langston recited to the class:
"The Weary Blues"
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.
And before every poem, Langston would say something like "and the name's at the top of the page to tell you where the poem is travelling." Hahahaha. Also, Langston did not just READ us his poetry, he performed it, and he sang at parts, and he made beats at parts and adopted different voices, it was awesome. He also told us these folk tales that he learned from the author, slash bff Zora Neale Hurston. One was the Word the Devil Made Up....and the other was...How the People Got Their Color. They were fuuuuunnnnnyyyy. Okay here's another poem that he recited.
"The Negro Speaks Of Rivers"
I've known rivers:
I've known rivers ancient as the world and older than the
flow of human blood in human veins.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
went down to New Orleans, and I've seen its muddy
bosom turn all golden in the sunset.
I've known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
OKAY here is a poem that I really like that I just stumbled upon looking for these other poems:
"Juke Box Love Song"
I could take the Harlem night
and warp around you,
Take the neon lights and mae a crown.
Take the Lenox Avenue busses,
Taxis, subways,
And for your love song tone ther rumble down.
Take Harlem's heartbeat,
Make a drumbeat,
Put it on a record, let it whirl,
And while we listen to it play,
Dance with you till day--
Dance with you, my sweet brown Harlem girl.
ISN'T THAT SO CUTE??? It kind of reminds me of that part in "The Poisonwood Bible" where Leah is talking about her children that are all a special shade of lovely brown. Mmmmm TPWB. Also I love the poem "I, Too" by Langston Hughes. That's all for now!
Love you miss you : )
No comments:
Post a Comment