#AmericanWriters
Where is the Jim Crow section On this merry—go—round, Mister, cause I want to ride? Down South where I come from White and colored
Well, son, I’ll tell you: Life for me ain’t been no crystal… It’s had tacks in it, And splinters, And boards torn up,
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. Since I come up North de
I am your son, white man! Georgia dusk And the turpentine woods. One of the pillars of the temple f… You are my son!
When Susanna Jones wears red her face is like an ancient cameo Turned brown by the ages. Come with a blast of trumphets, J… When Susanna Jones wears red
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
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.
In places like Selma, Alabama, Kids say, In places like Chicago and New York...
I play it cool I dig all jive. That's the reason I stay alive. My motto
Harlem Sent him home in a long box— Too dead To know why:
I’ve known rivers: I’ve known rivers ancient as the w… flow of human blood in human veins My soul has grown deep like the ri… I bathed in the Euphrates when da…
I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
Listen! Dear dream of utter aliveness— Touching my body of utter death— Tell me, O quickly! dream of aliv… The flaming source of your bright…