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الموضوع: Black poetry

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    Black poetry

    BLACK POETRY 1965-2010



    Black poetry : contains poems writtten by Black People for all those interested in Poetry with a distinct purpose




    What is poetry?


    That is not a rhetorical question. What it is we are discussing? I define poetry as "stylized language." Within the context of what is generally called literature, I further specify that poetry is language stylized to have an emotional impact on its audience. Within the world of English-language poetry, the chief methods of stylization are: 1. meter and/or rhythm 2. the specific use of sound usually in terms of a. rhyme b. assonance/consonance c. alliteration d. onomatopoeia 3. figurative language, chiefly similes and metaphors.

    The canonical standards for contemporary American poetry have their beginnings in England with Shakespeare and their most important developments in the modernist movement of the 1920s (T.S. Eliot, Ezra Pound, Gertrude Stein, e.e. cummings and William Carlos Williams). The fountain heads of contemporary American poetry are considered to be Walt Whitman and Emily Dickerson.

    When we look at black poetry, however, we find another, and equally important, source: namely black speech and music, a distinct and distinguished oral and aural tradition which predates America and stretches back to Africa. These two trains are the twin engines of African American, or what I would prefer to call African Diasporan poetry. Most literary criticism gives short shrift to, and very little critical understanding of, black speech/black music as a source of black poetry. Most literary criticism does not consider that our ancestral mother tongues were tonal languages, which to some non-Africans sound like singing rather than talking.










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    رد: Black poetry




    The Black Clown

    Langston Hughes



    A dramatic monologue to be spoken by a pure-blooded Negro in the
    white suit and hat of a clown, to the music of a piano, or an orchestra




    You laugh
    Because I’m poor and black and funny—
    Not the same as you—
    Because my mind is dull
    And dice instead of books will do
    For me to play with
    When the day is through.

    I am the fool of the whole world.
    Laugh and push me down.
    Only in song and laughter
    I rise again—a black clown.
    Strike up the music.
    Let it be gay.
    Only in joy
    Can a clown have his day.

    Three hundred years
    In the cotton and the cane,
    Plowing and reaping
    With no gain—
    Empty handed as I began.

    A slave—under the whip,
    Beaten and sore.
    God! Give me laughter
    That I can stand more.

    God! Give me the spotted
    Garments of a clown
    So that the pain and the shame
    Will not pull me down.

    Freedom!
    Abe Lincoln done set me free—
    One little moment
    To dance with glee.

    Then sadness again—
    No land, no house, no job,
    No place to go.
    Black—in a white world
    Where cold winds blow.
    The long struggle for life:
    No schools, no work—
    Not wanted here; not needed there—

    Black—you can die.
    Nobody will care—

    Yet clinging to the ladder,
    Round by round,
    Trying to climb up,
    Forever pushed down.

    Day after day
    White spit in my face—
    Worker and clown am I
    For the “civilized” race.

    Nigger! Nigger! Nigger!
    Scorn crushing me down.
    Laugh at me! Laugh at me!
    Just a black clown!

    Laugh at me then,
    All the world round—
    From Africa to Georgia
    I’m only a clown!

    But no! Not forever
    Like this will I be:
    Here are my hands
    That can really make me free!

    Suffer and struggle.
    Work, pray, and fight.
    Smash my way through
    To Manhood’s true right.

    Say to all foemen:
    You can’t keep me down!
    Tear off the garments
    That make me a clown!
    Rise from the bottom,
    Out of the slime!
    Look at the stars yonder
    Calling through time!

    Cry to the world
    That all might understand:
    I was once a black clown
    But now—
    I’m a man!


    ____________________________________





    Dark Youth Of the U.S.A

    Langston Hughes



    A recitation to be delivered by a Negro boy, bright, clean, and neatly dressed
    carrying his books to school



    Sturdy I stand, books in my hand-
    Today's dark child, tomorrow's strong man:
    The hope of my race
    to mould a place
    In America's magic land.

    American am I, none can deny:
    He who oppresses me, him I defy!
    I am Dark Youth
    Seeking the truth
    Of a free life beneath our great sky.

    Long a part of the Union's heart-
    Years ago at the nation's start
    Attucks died
    That right might abide
    And strength to our land impart.

    To be wise and strong, then studying long,
    Seeking the knowledge that rights all wrong-
    That is my mission.
    Lifting my race to its rightful place
    Till beauty and pride fills each dark face
    Is my ambition.

    So I climb toward tomorrow, out of past sorrow,
    Treading the modern way
    With the White and the Black whom nothing holds
    back-
    The American Youth of Today.

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    رد: Black poetry



    The Colored Soldier

    Langston Hughes



    We were just two colored boys, brown and black,

    Who joined up to fight for the U.S.A.

    When the Nation called us that mighty day.

    We were sent to training camp, then overseas—

    And me and my brother were happy as you please

    Thinking we were fighting for Democracy’s true reign

    And that our dark blood would wipe away the stain

    Of prejudice, and hate, and the false color line—

    And give us the rights that are yours and mine.

    They told us America would know no black or white:

    So we marched to the front, happy to fight.

    Last night in a dream my brother came to me

    Out of his grave from over the sea.

    Back from the acres of crosses in France,

    And said to me, “Brother, you’ve got your chance,

    And I hope you’re making good, and doing fine—

    ‘Cause when I was living, I didn’t have mine.

    Black boys couldn’t work then anywhere like they can today,

    Could hardly find a job that offered decent pay.

    The unions barred us; the factories, too,

    But now I know we’ve got plenty to do.

    We couldn’t eat in restaurants; had Jim Crow cars;

    Didn’t have any schools; and there were all sorts of bars

    To a colored boy’s rising in wealth or station—

    But now I know well that’s not our situation:

    The world’s been made safe for Democracy

    And no longer do we know the dark misery

    Of being held back, of having no chance—

    Since the colored soldiers came home from France.

    Didn’t our government tell us things would be fine

    When we got through fighting. Over There, and dying?

    So now I know we blacks are just like any other—

    ‘Cause that’s what I died for—isn’t it, Brother?”

    And I saw him standing there, straight and tall,

    In his soldier’s uniform, and all.

    Then his dark face smiled at me in the night—

    But the dream was cruel—and bitter—and somehow not right.

    It was awful—facing that boy who went out to die,

    For what could I answer him, except, “It’s a lie!”

    It’s a lie! It’s a lie! Every word they said.

    And it’s better a thousand times you’re in France dead.

    For here in the South there’s no votes and no right.

    And I’m still just a “nigger” in America tonight.

    Then I woke up, and the dream was ended—

    But broken was the soldier’s dream, too bad to be mended.

    And it’s a good thing all the black boys lying dead

    Over There

    Can’t see! And don’t know! And won’t ever care!


    ___________________________________



    The Negro Mother

    Langston Hughes



    Children, I come back today
    To tell you a story of the long dark way
    That I had to climb, that I had to know
    In order that the race might live and grow.
    Look at my face -- dark as the night --
    Yet shining like the sun with love's true light.
    I am the dark girl who crossed the red sea
    Carrying in my body the seed of the free.
    I am the woman who worked in the field
    Bringing the cotton and the corn to yield.
    I am the one who labored as a slave,
    Beaten and mistreated for the work that I gave --
    Children sold away from me, I'm husband sold, too.
    No safety , no love, no respect was I due.

    Three hundred years in the deepest South:
    But God put a song and a prayer in my mouth .
    God put a dream like steel in my soul.
    Now, through my children, I'm reaching the goal.

    Now, through my children, young and free,
    I realized the blessing deed to me.
    I couldn't read then. I couldn't write.
    I had nothing, back there in the night.
    Sometimes, the valley was filled with tears,
    But I kept trudging on through the lonely years.
    Sometimes, the road was hot with the sun,
    But I had to keep on till my work was done:
    I had to keep on! No stopping for me --
    I was the seed of the coming Free.
    I nourished the dream that nothing could smother
    Deep in my breast -- the Negro mother.
    I had only hope then , but now through you,
    Dark ones of today, my dreams must come true:
    All you dark children in the world out there,
    Remember my sweat, my pain, my despair.
    Remember my years, heavy with sorrow --
    And make of those years a torch for tomorrow.
    Make of my pass a road to the light
    Out of the darkness, the ignorance, the night.
    Lift high my banner out of the dust.
    Stand like free men supporting my trust.
    Believe in the right, let none push you back.
    Remember the whip and the slaver's track.
    Remember how the strong in struggle and strife
    Still bar you the way, and deny you life --
    But march ever forward, breaking down bars.
    Look ever upward at the sun and the stars.
    Oh, my dark children, may my dreams and my prayers
    Impel you forever up the great stairs --
    For I will be with you till no white brother
    Dares keep down the children of the NEGRO MOTHER.

  4. #4
    شخصية بارزة الصورة الرمزية جاكوار2
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    استغفرالله العظيم واتوب اليه

  5. #5
    انجليزي مبدع الصورة الرمزية BENT ALGNOB
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    Nice very NiceIt,s a beautiful work when we read these Hughes,s poems that talk about Black People Rights . I,m very happy to read it so , thank you very much M o o N


    YeeeesSeeeking the truth
    Of a free life beneath our great sky



    Happy life my dear
    for ever
    التعديل الأخير تم بواسطة BENT ALGNOB ; 05-05-2010 الساعة 02:49 AM



    الدَّهْرُ أَدَّبَنِي واليَأْسُ أَغْنَانِي والقوت أقنعني والصبر رباني
    وأَحْكَمَتْنِي مِنَ الأَيَّامِ تَجْرِبَة ٌ حَتَّى نَهَيْتُ الَّذي قَدْ كانَ يَنْهانِي


    "ربِ أغفر لي ولوالديّ وللمؤمنين والمؤمنات الأحياء منهم والأموات"

  6. #6
    شخصية بارزة الصورة الرمزية Petunia
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    i don't know why that people are very disappointed they often think that other people ignore them


    because of their color>> how strange






    the nicest moon ever thanks friend

    جزاك الله خير
    .


    .


    Here and there


    .


    .

  7. #7
    مراقب الصورة الرمزية البـارع
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    thanks Moon

    useful collection

    regards
    .
    للبحث في المنتدى عبر google اضغط الصورة:


    signature designed by G L O R Y
    .

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    رد: Black poetry

    Thank you dear friends

    Pink , I think they had suffered in the past because of the American society & the slavery age their parents been through . Even nowadays the racism between races are clear.

  9. #9
    مراقب الصورة الرمزية البـارع
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    اقتباس المشاركة الأصلية كتبت بواسطة M.o_o.N مشاهدة المشاركة

    Pink , I think they had suffered in the past because of the American society & the slavery age their parents been through . Even nowadays the racism between races are clear.

    definitely right
    in case of literature, we can notice the effect of the novel "uncle's Tom cabin" , it made some change in American society views about black people ,and it enhanced anti-slavery
    .
    للبحث في المنتدى عبر google اضغط الصورة:


    signature designed by G L O R Y
    .

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    البارع

    I am glad we are Muslims & there is no such "colored" among us. We all are equal .

  11. #11
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    Very interesting and useful collection indeed
    langston hughes was the most popular and versatile of the many black writers connected with harlem renaissance movement.
    he was a great poet , but he faced many difficulties in writhing about black people issues. Moon I studied about them last term and I'll try to write about their movements ,their themes and their poets later....many thanks dear
    التعديل الأخير تم بواسطة :lost lady: ; 14-05-2010 الساعة 03:34 PM

    لأن
    ( الله ربي ) سأبحر في أُمنياتي ..
    سأزيدُ رغباتي !
    سَأطمع في دُعائي أكثر
    ..
    لأن الله رَبي !..
    سأطرُق البابَ وإن طال الفَتح
    `سأنطَرِحُ على الأعتاب
    وإن امتدّ الزمان ،
    فحتماً ولابُد ;
    سأبكي فرحاً يوماً من دَهشتي بالعطاء

  12. #12
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    L.L

    I studied Dudly Randal , his ballad about the girl who died in the church is so sad that can drop your tears whenever you read it over and over again.
    I will be waiting for your topic . Thanks my dear sister for your fabulous comment

  13. #13
    انجليزي خبير
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    ooooh so nice dear

    i enjoy when i read it

    really it is great work

    thanxxx
    Pr!ncess ... فقط لا تعني اكثر من ذلك .!

  14. #14
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    Pr!ncess#89#


    welcome my dear

المواضيع المتشابهه

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