It Is Finished

An ugly week...done. At least the "go to work, deal with real life" part. I've been debating whether or not to post why this week has been so bad, and it may come out at some point when I can gather some distance from the events. Don't worry: no divorce, no disease, no further debt. Just the reality that good deeds can be overlooked and the good deeder can be dismissed. Enough, already! I'm going to let Langston Hughes soothe my aches.

The Weary Blues (Download mp3 of Langston reading this poem)*

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.

* mp3 originally found at Tofu Hut.

Comments

[Boozeler]

I'm glad the week is over and done with also. Miss you like a crazy woman.

[Jeff]

shhhh! My wife might be reading. Just kidding...miss you, too. Enjoy the rain.