#AmericanWriters
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…
What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore— And then run?
In places like Selma, Alabama, Kids say, In places like Chicago and New York...
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…
Good morning, daddy! Ain’t you heard The boogie—woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? Listen closely:
Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—
It would be nice In any case, To someday meet you Face to face Walking down
God in His infinite wisdom Did not make me very wise— So when my actions are stupid They hardly take God by surprise
We passed their graves: The dead men there, Winners or losers, Did not care. In the dark
I’m all alone in this world, she s… Ain’t got nobody to share my bed, Ain’t got nobody to hold my hand— The truth of the matter’s I ain’t got no man.
The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
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 ...
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams