# data[].attributes.body
Image

# data[].attributes.body
Alliterate : d- sounds in droning and drowsy.

Repetition of vowel sounds- Oh and ow

# data[].attributes.headline
The Weary Blues BY LANGSTON HUGHES  Droning a drowsy syncopated tune, Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon, I heard a Negro play.Down on Lenox Avenue the other nightBy the pale dull pallor of an old gas lightHe did a lazy sway. . . .He did a lazy sway. . . .To the tune o’ those Weary Blues.With his ebony hands on each ivory keyHe made that poor piano moan with melody.O Blues!Swaying to and fro on his rickety stoolHe 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 toneI 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 BluesAnd I can’t be satisfied.Got the Weary BluesAnd 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 bedWhile the Weary Blues echoed through his head.He slept like a rock or a man that’s dead.

# data[].attributes.subject
The Weary Blues BY LANGSTON HUGHES  Droning a drowsy syncopated tune, Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon, I heard a Negro play.Down on Lenox Avenue the other nightBy the pale dull pallor of an old gas lightHe did a lazy sway. . . .He did a lazy sway. . . .To the tune o’ those Weary Blues.With his ebony hands on each ivory keyHe made that poor piano moan with melody.O Blues!Swaying to and fro on his rickety stoolHe 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 toneI 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 BluesAnd I can’t be satisfied.Got the Weary BluesAnd 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 bedWhile the Weary Blues echoed through his head.He slept like a rock or a man that’s dead.

# data[].attributes.body
The Poem is written free verse. This poem is very symbolic of the struggles faced by African Americans. The poem reminds me of blues songs. The narrator explains the singer describing the uncertainties in life, unhappiness and loneliness. It also shows how artists can transform their challenges into musical expressions.

# data[].attributes.body
Identity crisis belongs to the musician, the speaker is projecting it onto him – ebony vs. ivory

# data[].attributes.body
The speaker telling someone about a piano player he heard a couple nights ago. This musician was playing a slow blues song with all his body and soul. Helps the reader understand that musical instruments have evolved, the struggle during the era. This poem is very easy to read and understand.

# data[].attributes.body
Synocopated:Type of music an artistic form of auditory communication incorporating instrumental or vocal tones in a structured and continuous manner.
Croon: a soft, lo voice or tone, to sing or speak in a gentle murmuring manner.
Sway: move or cause to move slowly or rhythmically backward and forward or from side to side.
Moan: a long, low sound made by a person expressing physical or mental suffering or sexual pressure.
Gwine:A present participle of go

# data[].attributes.body
The speaker starts to really get into the sad music.This musician is singing about how even though he's miserable, he's going to put his worries aside.nothing can cure his blues, and he wishes he was dead. The musician plays on late into the night; and when he finally goes to bed, he sleeps like a dead person or something else that can't think.Last but not least it says something about the era when slavery was the norm and the struggle african americans faced.

# data[].attributes.body
This poem takes me back to the time I was young. Blues was very American. Growing up in Ethiopia listening to such music was seen as a way to share the cultural revolution. It exposed me and many who were in my age group to the revolution that was going on in the western world. The hair style, the outfit and life style was unique in many ways.

# data[].attributes.body
“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.”