Thoughts for Sunday

Another selection from Langston Hughes:

To Certain "Brothers"

You sicken me with lies,
With truthful lies.
And with your pious faces.
And your wide, out-stretched,
     mock-welcome, Christian hands.
While underneath
Is dirt and ugliness,
And rottening hearts,
And wild hyenas howling
In your soul's waste lands.

The Conceits of the Rich Exposed

I've been meandering through some of Langston Hughes' work of late. And, in the belief that curated content that's not mine is better than no content at all for this space, I offer up a poem that I really liked:

Rising Waters

To you
Who are the
Foam on the sea
And not the sea--
What of the jagged rocks,
And the waves themselves,
And the force of the mounting waters?
You are
But foam on the sea,
You rich ones--
Not the sea.