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Word of a Prophète
Look to me, I'll set you free.
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Langston Hughes
Langston Hughes was born on February 1st, 1902, in Joplin, Missouri. His parents Carrie Langston and James Hughes (both racially mixed), separated when he was young and he lived most of his life with his grandmother, who'd come to pass on when he'd become a teen. He then lived with his mother and moved around and eventually settled in Ohio. It's there that Hughes first started on his poetic path. In school he'd actively participate in and contribute to his school magazine but was often rejected. In 1920, he graduated high school and took a giant leap with writing one of his most famous poems, The Negro Speaks of Rivers. With that Hughes would go on to further climb the latter of recognition, publishing books and poems and make a name for himself. He has been all over the world, spreading his word and learning about the world and also about himself. Later in life he'd become at the forefront of the artistic movement, The Harlem Renaissance, speaking about, to, and for black people as a whole. His work was a massive inspiration of the later coming generations. He taught what it meant to be black, and those teachings paved the way into a sort of artistic golden age for black people in America.
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The Harlem Renaissance
A sort of artistic golden age the African-Americans, the Harlem Renaissance was a movement in time wherein artists, musicians, poets, actors, and singers of the black persuasion came into bloom without being shot down by oppression. Langston Hughes among many other African-American artists lived and thrived in this time, using their talents and their voices to tell stories of life, the world, its beauty, or everything ugly about it. At no other point in time before this has the African-American populous ever set out to establish endeavors in art without serious repercussions. The Harlem Renaissance is a tremendously important movement for black people and the artistic world. It was an emerging of culture that took decades to come into fruition.
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Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Gil Scott-Heron
Born April 1st, 1949 and died in May 27, 2011 was one of the father's of hip hop and R&B. Having been a jazz poet, musician, and author, he sang his spoken word into the minds of those living in the 70's and 80's. Heron was avid in the political issues of his time as well as the stance of black people. That said, his greatest influences were the iconic African-American people who stood for just that, some of them being Billie Holiday, Langston Hughes, Malcolm X, Huey Newton, and Langston Hughes especially. With his affinity for the arts, he made a considerable name for himself in the 70's with his more well known works, "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised" and "The Bottle." Though Heron has been incarcerated several times for reasons regarding drugs, he still kept to his passion into is later years, collaborating with different labels and performing live. To this day Heron has left his mark as a great influence on musicians and african-american people as a whole.
The Revolution Will Not Be Televised
The Revolution Will Not Be Televised
Strange Fruit
Strange Fruit, a song originally produced by Billy Holiday and written
by the New York City school teacher Abel Meeropol in the mid 1930's, was
a dark song that depicted the many terrible lynchings that had being invoked for years prior to the song's writing. This song has strong historical precedence being one of the first
outwardly protest against the social stigma that was discrimination.
Songs at the time weren't usually used to convey societal issues and certainly were
not known do it in a morbidly brutal fashion. It is a short poem with only three stanzas but each and every line was birthed from the chilling reality of the fate and strife of African American people of the early 1900's. Since it's "debut" dozens of artists have performed the song, in their own unique fashion but with each the message is still the same.
Nina Simone's Production
Billie Holiday's Production
India Arie's Production
Nina Simone's Production
Billie Holiday's Production
India Arie's Production
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
As I Grow Older
A poem by Langston Hughes
It was a long time ago.
I have almost forgotten my dream.
But it was there then,
In front of me,
Bright like a sun--
My dream.
And then the wall rose,
Rose slowly,
Slowly,
Between me and my dream.
Rose until it touched the sky--
The wall.
Shadow.
I am black.
I lie down in the shadow.
No longer the light of my dream before me,
Above me.
Only the thick wall.
Only the shadow.
My hands!
My dark hands!
Break through the wall!
Find my dream!
Help me to shatter this darkness,
To smash this night,
To break this shadow
Into a thousand lights of sun,
Into a thousand whirling dreams
Of sun!
Hughes speaks of dreams in this poem. As time goes by, dreams are sometimes lost and forgotten, either through some unfortunate circumstance or by the fault of one's self and others. They lie in the back of the mind waiting to be rediscovered. In this poem, Hughes has rediscovered. He's found his dream with his own resolve. He and his "dark hands" broke through the walls of confinement and now, he's free to do with what he'd like with his "dream."
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Monday, March 11, 2013
Love & Gin
No one knows my trouble
No one knows my sin
No one knows where I've been
'cept my good ol' bottle of gin
Sometimes I lie awake and I think
Do I have what it takes?
I look back on a life done wrong and I see
I done made so many dammed mistakes
One time I had a lady
she glistened like the shining sea
The only thing that could make me happy
and I drove her away from me
No one knows my trouble
No one knows my sin
No one knows where I've been
'cept my good ol' bottle of gin
My love has moved on,
My friends are gone,
and all I have is this bottle of wine
Lord oh, take me from this life o' mine
Oh lord wont ya please,
this pain has brought me to my knees!
Lord, I can't move!
Tell me before I'm deceased...
Do ya know my trouble?
Do ya forgive my sin?
Can ya take this has-been
from this empty ol' bottle of gin?
~Robins Prophete
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Monday, February 11, 2013
Cross
A poem by Langston Hughes
My old man's a white old man
and my old mother's black
If ever I cursed my white old man
I take my curses back
if ever I cursed my black old mother
and wished she were in hell
I'm sorry for that evil wish
and now I wish her well
my old man died in a fine big house
my ma died in a shack
I wonder where I'm gonna die
being neither white nor black.
Langston Hughes was born to parents of mixed races but in this poem, he assumes the persona of someone with a white father and black mother. With that, Hughes conveys a message of helplessness. Being a half black and half white, he doesn't know where his place is, or where to fit in. He takes back any contempt he's had against either of his parents, as there isn't much else to do. Being white, his father lived his life and died in a "fine big house" while his mother died in a shack. This insinuates the vastly different lives they lived, one filled with comfort and ease and the other with strife and hardships. Hughes than wonders, what's to happen to him, being from both sides. It was a real issue years ago. "Mulattos" or one with mixed ancestry faced discrimination by both blacks and white and were often stunk in a social limbo.
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