#AmericanWriters
To fling my arms wide In some place of the sun, To whirl and to dance Till the white day is done. Then rest at cool evening
Democracy will not come Today, this year Nor ever Through compromise and fear. I have as much right
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
He glides so swiftly Back into the grass— Gives me the courtesy of road To let me pass, That I am half ashamed
The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.
You sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
She, In the dark, Found light Brighter than many ever see. She,
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,
Children, I come back today To tell you a story of the long da… That I had to climb, that I had t… In order that the race might live… Look at my face —dark as the night…
The night is beautiful, So the faces of my people. The stars are beautiful, So the eyes of my people. Beautiful, also, is the sun.
Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams
I take my dreams and make of them… and a round fountain with a beauti… And a song with a broken heart and… Do you understand my dreams? Sometimes you say you do,
Goin’ down the road, Lawd, Goin’ down the road. Down the road, Lawd, Way, way down the road. Got to find somebody
Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.
The gold moth did not love him So, gorgeous, she flew away. But the gray moth circled the flam… Until the break of day. And then, with wings like a dead d…