#AmericanWriters
How quiet It is in this sick room Where on the bed A silent woman lies between two lo… Life and Death,
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.
I work all day, Said Simple John, Myself a house to buy. I work all day, Said Simple John,
Good morning, daddy! Ain’t you heard The boogie—woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? Listen closely:
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
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…
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
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
I play it cool I dig all jive. That's the reason I stay alive. My motto
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…
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
I am your son, white man! Georgia dusk And the turpentine woods. One of the pillars of the temple f… You are my son!
What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore— And then run?
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
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…