#AmericanWriters
My old mule, He’s gota grin on his face. He’s been a mule so long He’s forgotten about his race. I’m like that old mule —
Being walkers with the dawn and mo… Walkers with the sun and morning, We are not afraid of night, Nor days of gloom, Nor darkness—
I am your son, white man! Georgia dusk And the turpentine woods. One of the pillars of the temple f… You are my son!
In places like Selma, Alabama, Kids say, In places like Chicago and New York...
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
You sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
How still, How strangely still The water is today, It is not good For water
Fine living . . . a la carte? Come to the Waldorf—Astoria! LISTEN HUNGRY ONES! Look! See what Vanity Fair says… new Waldorf—Astoria:
And that is what poetry may do, wrap up your dreams, protect and preserve and hold them until maybe they come true. Columbus dreamed of finding a new world, he found it. Edison dreamed ...
When the shoe strings break On both your shoes And you’re in a hurry— That’s the blues. When you go to buy a candy bar
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 look at the world From awakening eyes in a black fac… And this is what I see: This fenced—off narrow space Assigned to me.
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know
The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.
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…