THE POEM: They took the road in Waycross, Georgia Skipped over the…
Question Answered step-by-step THE POEM: They took the road in Waycross, Georgia Skipped over the… THE POEM:They took the road in Waycross, GeorgiaSkipped over the tracks in East St. LouisTook the bus from Holly SpringsHitched a ride from Gee’s BendTook the long way through MemphisThe third deck down from TrinidadA wrench of heart from Goree IslandTo a place calledHarlemHarlem was a promiseOf a better life,of a place where a manDidn’t have to know his placeSimply becauseHe was BlackThey brought a callA songFirst heard in the villages ofGhana, Mali, SenegalCalls and songs and shoutsHeavy hearted tambourine rhythmsLoosed in the hard cityLike a scream torn from the throatOf an ancient clarinetA new sound, raucous and sassyCascading over the asphalt villageBreaking against the black skyAnnouncing HallelujahRiffing past resolution5Yellow, tan, brown, black, redGreen, gray, brightColors loud enough to be heardSun yellow shirts on burnt umberBodiesdemanding to be heardSeensending out warriors6From streets known to beMourning still as a lone radio tells us howJack JohnsonJoe LouisSugar RayIs doing with our hopes.We hopeWe prayOur black skinsReflecting the face of GodIn storefront templesThe mood indigo.A carnival of childrenPeople in the daytime streetsStickball heroesLiving out their own slam-dunk dreamsListeningFor the coming of the bluesA weary blues that Langston knew.There is liltTempoCadenceA language of darknessDarkness knownDarkness sharpened at MintonsDarkness lightened at the CottonClubSent flying from Abyssinian BaptistTo the Apollo.One peopleA hundred different peopleHuddled massesAnd crowded dreamsCracked reed and soprano sax laughterFloats overa fleet of funeral carsIn HarlemThe wind doesn’t blow pastIt stops tolisten to the soundsSerious businessA poem, rhapsody tripping alongStriver’s RowNot getting it’s metric feel soiledOn the well-swept walksHustling through the hard rain at two o’clockIn the morning to its next gig.Sometimes despairMakes the stoops shudderSometimes there are endless depths of painSinging a capella on street cornersAnd sometimes not.Sometimes it is the artistlooking into the mirrorPainting a portrait of his own heart.PlaceSoundCelebrationMemories of feelingsOf placeA journey on the A trainThat started on the banks of the NigerAnd has not endedHarlem. Who is the “target” audience for this poem? How do you know? How does Myers’ poem tell the story of African-Americans in the United States? Give at least one example of where the poem references history. 3.What is the MOOD of the poem? Provide examples to support your choice. (Note: Mood is the overall feeling of the poem which can be created by the TONE, which is the “voice” that you imagine the poem is read in, or by the language choices of the poem.) 4.What is the overall THEME (message) of the poem? Defend your answer. 5.What part of the poem most spoke to you? Write out the line(s) or passage and explain what you found the most striking/memorable/compelling about it Arts & Humanities English English Literature ENGLISH II Share QuestionEmailCopy link Comments (0)
