#Americans #Blacks #PulitzerPrize #Women #XIXCentury #XXCentury
The old men used to sing And lifted a brother Carefully Out the door I used to think they
I have a friend who is turning gray, not just her hair, and I do not know why this is so.
When you thought me poor, my poverty was shaming. When blackness was unwelcome we found it best that I stay home.
Be nobody’s darling; Be an outcast. Take the contradictions Of your life And wrap around
My brothers knew The things you know. I did not scorn learning them; It’s just my mind
When the people have won a victory whether small or large do you ever wonder
When they torture your mother plant a tree When they torture your father plant a tree When they torture your brother
His posture From so many years Holding his robe with one hand Is odd. His gait
If I was President The first thing I would do is call Mumia Abu—Jamal. No, if I was president
Reminding us, as they witnessed our curiosity about them, that no matter the losses, there’s something fabulous going on at every stage of Life, something to let go of, maybe, but for d...
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…
She is the one who will notice that the first snapdragon of Spring is
Knowing you might some day come and how unprepared I’ve always been like Mr. Sloppy in Charles Dickens’
Remember When we ended It all —for a weekend— & how
I will keep Broken things: The big clay Pot