#AmericanWriters
I’ve known rivers: I’ve known rivers ancient as the w… My soul has grown deep like the ri… I bathed in the Euphrates when da… I built my hut near the Congo and…
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.
The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.
By what sends the white kids I ain’t sent: I know I can’t be President.
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…
I take my dreams and make of them… and a round fountain with a beauti… And a song with a broken heart and… Do you understand my dreams? Sometimes you say you do,
It’s such a Bore Being always Poor.
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,
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…
I worked for a woman, She wasn’t mean— But she had a twelve—room House to clean. Had to get breakfast,
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
The night is beautiful, So the faces of my people. The stars are beautiful, So the eyes of my people. Beautiful, also, is the sun.
Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—
She, In the dark, Found light Brighter than many ever see. She,