#AmericanWriters
How quiet It is in this sick room Where on the bed A silent woman lies between two lo… Life and Death,
Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head w… Let the rain sing you a lullaby. The rain makes still pools on the… The rain makes running pools in th…
I will take you heart. I will take your soul out of your… As though I were God. I will not be satisfied With the touch of your hand
In the Quarter of the Negroes Where the doors are doors of paper Dust of dingy atoms Blows a scratchy sound. Amorphous jack—o’—Lanterns caper
I worked for a woman, She wasn’t mean— But she had a twelve—room House to clean. Had to get breakfast,
It’s such a Bore Being always Poor.
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done
The ivory gods, And the ebony gods, And the gods of diamond and jade, Sit silently on their temple shelv… While the people
We passed their graves: The dead men there, Winners or losers, Did not care. In the dark
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
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…
It was a long time ago. I have almost forgotten my dream. But it was there then, In front of me, Bright like a sun—
I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh,