#AmericanWriters
I’ve stayed in the front yard al… I want a peek at the back Where it’s rough and untended an… A girl gets sick of a rose. I want to go in the back yard now
From the first it had been like a Ballad. It had the beat inevitabl… A wildness cut up, and tied in lit… Like the four-line stanzas of the… understood—the ballads they had se…
Inamoratas, with an approbation, Bestowed his title. Blessed his i… He wakes, unwinds, elaborately: a… Tawny, reluctant, royal. He is fa… And fine this morning. Definite.…
Into her mother’s bedroom to wash… “My mother is jelly-hearted and sh… Sweet, quiver-soft, irrelevant. N… Only a habit would cry if she shou… A pleasant sort of fool without th…
Oh mother, mother, where is happin… They took my lover’s tallness off… Left me lamenting. Now I cannot g… What I can use an empty heart-cup… He won’t be coming back here any m…
People who have no children can be… Attain a mail of ice and insolence… Need not pause in the fire, and in… Hesitate in the hurricane to guard… And when wide world is bitten and…
I hold my honey and I store my br… In little jars and cabinets of my… I label clearly, and each latch an… I bid, Be firm till I return from… I am very hungry. I am incomplete…
A riot is the language of the unhe… —martin luther king John Cabot, out of Wilma, once a… all whitebluerose below his golden… wrapped richly in right linen and…
Now who could take you off to tiny… In one room or in two rooms or in… And cork you smartly, like the fla… You are? Not any woman. Not a wif… You’d let her twirl you, give her…
Mayor. Worldman. Historyman. Beyond steps that occur and close, your steps are echo-makers. You can never be forgotten. We begin our health.
To be in love Is to touch with a lighter hand. In yourself you stretch, you are w… You look at things Through his eyes.
Say to them, say to the down-keepers, the sun-slappers, the self-soilers, the harmony-hushers,
Carried her unprotesting out the d… Kicked back the casket-stand. But… That stuff and satin aiming to enf… The lid’s contrition nor the bolts… Oh oh. Too much. Too much. Even…
We are things of dry hours and the… Grayed in, and gray. “Dream” mate… Like “rent”, “feeding a wife”, “sa… But could a dream sent up through… Its white and violet, fight with f…
“The fact that we are black is our ultimate reality.” —Ron Karenga And several strengths from drowsin… but spoke in Single Sermon on the…