#AmericanWriters #BlackWriters #FemaleWriters #PulitzerPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
Be nobody’s darling; Be an outcast. Take the contradictions Of your life And wrap around
Expect nothing. Live frugally On surprise. become a stranger To need of pity Or, if compassion be freely
Look into her eyes and know: She does not think
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 brothers knew The things you know. I did not scorn learning them; It’s just my mind
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
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…
She is the one who will notice that the first snapdragon of Spring is
Remember When we ended It all —for a weekend— & how
My desire is always the same; wherever Life deposits me: I want to stick my toe & soon my whole body
I will keep Broken things: The big clay Pot
When you thought me poor, my poverty was shaming. When blackness was unwelcome we found it best that I stay home.
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
I Sing of Mumia brilliant and strong and of the captivity that few black men escape