#AmericanWriters
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
Only dumb guys fight. If I wasn’t dumb I wouldn’t be fightin’. I could make six dollars a day On the docks
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
I dream a world where man No other man will scorn, Where love will bless the earth And peace its paths adorn I dream a world where all
I am your son, white man! Georgia dusk And the turpentine woods. One of the pillars of the temple f… You are my son!
Here I sit With my shoes mismated. Lawdy—mercy! I’s frustrated!
Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams
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—
The census man, The day he came round, Wanted my name To put it down. I said, Johnson,
Droning a drowsy syncopated tune, Rocking back and forth to a mellow… I heard a Negro play. Down on Lenox Avenue the other ni… By the pale dull pallor of an old…
Harlem Sent him home in a long box— Too dead To know why: