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Gwendolyn Brooks

Gwendolyn Brooks

Tommy

I put my seed into the ground
And said, 'I’ll watch it grow.’
I watered it and cared for it
As well as I could know.
 
One day I walked in my back yard,
And oh. what did I see!
My seed had popped itself right out
Without consulting me.

#Americans #Blacks #Women

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Otras obras de Gwendolyn Brooks...
The Sonnet-Ballad

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…
A Bronzeville Mother Loiters in Mississippi. Meanwhile, a Mississippi Mother Burns Bacon

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…
when you have forgotten Sunday: the love story

—And when you have forgotten the b… And most especially when you have… When you have forgotten Sunday ha… Or me sitting on the front-room ra… Looking off down the long street
Of De Witt Williams on His Way to Lincoln Cemetery

He was born in Alabama. He was bred in Illinois. He was nothing but a Plain black boy. Swing low swing low sweet sweet ch…
Primer for Blacks

Blackness is a title, is a preoccupation, is a commitment Blacks are to comprehend—
Garbageman: The Man With the Orderly Mind

What do you think of us in fuzzy e… sterling, whose lunge is straight? Can you make a reason, how can you… Who memorize the rules from your o… Who never quite receive the whistl…
The Good Man

The good man. He is still enhancer, renouncer. In the time of detachment, in the time of the vivid heather a… in the time of oral
The Sundays of Satin-Legs Smith

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.…
A Song in the Front Yard

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
 1
The Crazy Woman

I shall not sing a May song. A May song should be gay. I’ll wait until November And sing a song of gray. I’ll wait until November
The Bean Eaters

They eat beans mostly, this old ye… Dinner is a casual affair. Plain chipware on a plain and crea… Tin flatware. Two who are Mostly Good.
The Ballad of Rudolph Reed

Rudolph Reed was oaken. His wife was oaken too. And his two good girls and his goo… Oakened as they grew. “I am not hungry for berries.
Speech to the Young: Speech to the Progress-Toward

Say to them, say to the down-keepers, the sun-slappers, the self-soilers, the harmony-hushers,
Riot

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…
Jessie Mitchell’s Mother

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…



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