Hughes in my head

I had planned to post a different poem tonight, but it seems that Langston is my soundtrack for another day.  Here’s another one of those “I’ve always loved this poem” poems.  It’s one that has feels melancholy, and that’s more than fitting.

Langston Hughes

Sometimes a crumb falls
From the tables of joy,
Sometimes a bone
Is flung.

To some people
Love is given.
To others
Only heaven.


Of course, I want this wave of sadness to pass. At the same time, I don’t want to hurry it on its way.  I want it to burn some clarity into my brain, give me an idea of something I can actually do in the wake of this.  Not that I’ve never done anything in the past.  I marched for Diallo, out in the street with thousands of others (“How many shots? Forty-one! Should have been none!).  I’ve written letters and stood outside courthouses and City Hall in support.    When the verdicts came for the officers in the Diallo shooting, I wasn’t surprised, but neither was I as deflated and sick at heart as I’m feeling now.  And I want my frustrated sorrow to be productive, to elucidate, to point me in a clear direction.  So I wait.

One thought on “Hughes in my head

  1. Maggie, dammit

    I think it’s a mistake all of us make, trying to hurry through the pain, or trying to numb it with one vice or another. You’ve spent the past few posts here on this, and in so doing you’re forcing yourself to remain in the present — and that’s good. Soak this in, feel it up, give yourself permission to rail and scream and vent and feel. I have to believe there’s a reason each of us is given our own cross to bear, even though I don’t yet understand it. Stay here now, where it hurts, and maybe someday something will crystallize from it. I have no idea what.


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