#AmericanWriters
When you thought me poor, my poverty was shaming. When blackness was unwelcome we found it best that I stay home.
I said to Poetry:"I’m finished with you." Having to almost die before some wierd light comes creeping through
Did you ever understand this? If my spirit was poor, how could… Was I depressed? Understanding editing, I see how a comma, removed or inse…
I will keep Broken things: The big clay Pot
When the people have won a victory whether small or large do you ever wonder
Knowing you might some day come and how unprepared I’ve always been like Mr. Sloppy in Charles Dickens’
I Sing of Mumia brilliant and strong and of the captivity that few black men escape
When you see water in a stream you say: oh, this is stream water; When you see water in the river you say: oh, this is water
The old men used to sing And lifted a brother Carefully Out the door I used to think they
Word reaches us that you are sleeping, sleeping. Dismayed we have turned to the sea. We encounter among others
Let other leaders Retire To play golf & write Memoirs
If my sorrow were deeper I’d be, along with you, under the ocean’s floor; but today I learn that the oil that pools beneath the ocean floor
Don’t be like those who ask for ev… praise, a blurb, a free ride in my… limousine. They ask for everything… anything in return. Be like those who can see that my…
With your unknown to me Odd magic You came To me:
Remember When we ended It all —for a weekend— & how