Langston Hughes (1902-1967) Page Poem 2 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 15 16 18 19 20 21 22 24 25 26 28 “Mister Sandman” “The South” “Summer Night” “The Cat and the Saxophone (2 a.m.)” “Ruby Brown” “Being Old” “Scottsboro” “Song of the Revolution” “Let be America Again” “Song of the ” “Ballad of the Landlord” “Dark Youth of the ” “Madam and the Rent Man” “Song of Adoration” “Madam and the Newsboy” “Theme for English B” “Brotherly Love” “doorknobs” “The Negro Mother” “Final Call” Source: The Collected Poems of Langston Hughes. Rampersad, ed. NY: Vintage Classics, 1994. The names and dates below the poem’s title are for first known publication. Note: For the IOC, copies of the poems will contain no information other than the title, the poem’s text, and line numbers.
Ruby Brown Crisis, Aug. 1926 5 10 15 20 25 She was young and beautiful And golden like the sunshine That warmed her body. And because she was colored Mayville had no place to offer her, Nor fuel for the clean flame of joy That tried to burn within her soul. One day, Sitting on old Mrs. Latham’s back porch Polishing the silver, She asked herself two questions And they ran something like this: What can a colored girl do On the money from a white woman’s kitchen? And ain’t there any joy in this town? Now the streets down by the river Know more about this pretty Ruby Brown, And the sinister shuttered houses of the bottoms Hold a yellow girl Seeking an answer to her questions. The good church folk do not mention Her name any more. But the white man Habitués of the high shuttered houses, Pay more money to her now That they ever did before, When she worked in their kitchens.
55 60 65 70 75 The free? Who said the free? Not me? Surely not me? The millions on relief today? The millions shot down when we strike? The millions who have nothing for our pay? For all the dreams we've dreamed And all the songs we've sung And all the hopes we've held And all the flags we've hung, The millions who have nothing for our pay – Except the dream that's almost dead today. O, let be again – The land that never has been yet – And yet must be – the land where every man is free. The land that's mine – the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME – Who made America, Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain, Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain, Must bring back our mighty dream again. Sure, call me any ugly name you choose – The steel of freedom does not stain. From those who live like leeches on the people's lives, We must take back our land again, ! O, yes, I say it plain,
5 10 15 20 25 30 The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy-do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know Your rent is due. I said, Listen Before I’d pay I’d go to Hades And rot away! The sink is broke, The water don’t run, And you ain’t done a thing You promised to’ve done. Back window’s cracked, Kitchen floor squeaks, There’s rats in the cellar, And the attic leaks. He said, Madam, It’s not up to me. I’m just the agent, Don’t you see? I said, Naturally, You pass the buck. If it’s money you want You’re out of luck. He said, Madam, I ain’t pleased! I said, Neither am I. So we agrees!
Song of Adoration sent to the American Negro Press in , Winter 1943-1944 5 10 15 20 25 I would like to be a white man, wouldn’t you? There’s so many lovely things that I could do. I could lynch a Negro – And never go to jail, you know, I would love to be a white man, wouldn’t you? I would love to be a white man, wouldn’t you? So many tasty things that I could do. I could tell the starving Indian nation To go straight to damnation, Oh, I would love to be a white man, wouldn’t you? I would love to be a white man, wouldn’t you? There’s such intriguing that one could do. I could say to Stalin, listen kid, You’re just an Asiatic mongrel Red. Ah, I would love to be a white man, wouldn’t you? I would love to be a white man, wouldn’t you? There’s so many cultural things that I could do. I could belong to the D.A.R. Tell Marian Anderson, stay…out to the D.A.R.! I could ADORE being a white woman, wouldn’t you? I’d love to be a white congressman, too. There’s so many helpful things I could do. Just to get the Negro’s goat I wouldn’t let NO soldiers vote. I would love to be a white congressman, wouldn’t you? Madam and the Newsboy Negro Story, Dec. 1944-Jan. 1945
5 10 15 20 25 that turns to let in life on two feet standing, walking, talking, wearing dress or trousers, maybe drunk or maybe sober, maybe smiling, laughing, happy, maybe tangled in the terror of a yesterday past grandpa when the door from out there opened into here where I, antenna, recipient of your coming, received the talking image of the simple silly terror of a door that opens at the turning of a knob to let in life walking, talking, standing wearing dress or trousers, drunk or maybe sober, smiling, laughing, happy, or tangled in the terror or a yesterday past grandpa not of our own doing. The Negro Mother Reprinted in Selected Poems, 1959 (original source unknown) Children, I come back today