Sunday, July 12, 2009

Countee Cullen

The meek are promised much in a book I know,
But one grows weary turning cheek to blow.

(I forget the name of the poem these lines come from; I do remember that it's a sonnet.)
posted by dylan at 6:55 AM

2 comments:

cassdawn said...

the poem is "mood" 1929 - but i believe it was part of the book "the black christ" which seems to be billed by many as one continous poem. and no, i didn't know that. i compulsively research things if they pique my interest.

Sunday, July 12, 2009 11:13:00 PM
dylan said...

Thank you, cassdawn! (I dimly remembered that it was either "Mood" or "Counter-Mood," two somewhat similar sonnets. But I couldn't remember which one. The lines stayed in the memory, long after I misplaced the notebook into which I copied the poem!)

I think people wrote better eighty years ago! More memorably. There's something ineffaceable about those two lines. Ineffaceable and universal.

"The Black Christ" is the name of one of Cullen's books, and also the name of the title poem, which is rather long.

Monday, July 13, 2009 6:06:00 AM

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