#AmericanWriters
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
Clean the spittoons, boy. Detroit, Chicago, Atlantic City, Palm Beach.
We passed their graves: The dead men there, Winners or losers, Did not care. In the dark
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…
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
The census man, The day he came round, Wanted my name To put it down. I said, Johnson,
Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you— Then, it will be true. I wonder if it’s that simple?
'Me an’ ma baby’s Got two mo’ ways, Two mo’ ways to do de Charleston!… Da, da, Da, da, da!
Gather quickly Out of darkness All the songs you know And throw them at the sun Before they melt
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
2 and 2 are 4. 4 and 4 are 8. But what would happen If the last 4 was late? And how would it be
When a man starts out with nothing… When a man starts out with his han… Empty, but clean, When a man starts to build a world… He starts first with himself
By what sends the white kids I ain’t sent: I know I can’t be President.
I went down to the river, I set down on the bank. I tried to think but couldn’t, So I jumped in and sank. I came up once and hollered!
The ivory gods, And the ebony gods, And the gods of diamond and jade, Sit silently on their temple shelv… While the people