#AmericanWriters
My old man’s a white old man And my old mother’s black. If ever I cursed my white old man I take my curses back. If ever I cursed my black old mot…
Oh, silver tree! Oh, shining rivers of the soul! In a Harlem cabaret Six long—headed jazzers play. A dancing girl whose eyes are bold
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
Democracy will not come Today, this year Nor ever Through compromise and fear. I have as much right
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know
When I get to be a composer I’m gonna write me some music abou… Daybreak in Alabama And I’m gonna put the purtiest so… Rising out of the ground like a sw…
Here I sit With my shoes mismated. Lawdy—mercy! I’s frustrated!
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…
You and your whole race. Look down upon the town in which y… And be ashamed. Look down upon white folks And upon yourselves
I got to leave this town. It’s a lonesome place. Got to leave this town cause It’s a lonesome place. A po’, po’ boy can’t
The census man, The day he came round, Wanted my name To put it down. I said, Johnson,
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…
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.