#AmericanWriters #BlackWriters #FemaleWriters #PulitzerPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
I said to Poetry:"I’m finished with you." Having to almost die before some wierd light comes creeping through
Word reaches us that you are sleeping, sleeping. Dismayed we have turned to the sea. We encounter among others
The old men used to sing And lifted a brother Carefully Out the door I used to think they
Look into her eyes and know: She does not think
Let other leaders Retire To play golf & write Memoirs
Before I leave the stage I will sing the only song I was meant truly to sing. It is the song of I AM.
My desire is always the same; wherever Life deposits me: I want to stick my toe & soon my whole body
in our lifetime. Which makes the idea of elections Notice how this word has “man” right in the middle of it? That’s one reason I like it. He is right there, front and center. But he i...
When you thought me poor, my poverty was shaming. When blackness was unwelcome we found it best that I stay home.
If I was President The first thing I would do is call Mumia Abu—Jamal. No, if I was president
Going out to the garden this morning to plant seeds for my winter greens —the strong, fiery mustard
I will keep Broken things: The big clay Pot
I Sing of Mumia brilliant and strong and of the captivity that few black men escape
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
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…
