#AmericanWriters
That Justice is a blind goddess Is a thing to which we black are w… Her bandage hides two festering so… That once perhaps were eyes.
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—
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
Harlem Sent him home in a long box— Too dead To know why:
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
I could take the Harlem night and wrap around you, Take the neon lights and make a cr… Take the Lenox Avenue busses, Taxis, subways,
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.
I am God— Without one friend, Alone in my purity World without end. Below me young lovers
I woke up this mornin’ ’Bout half-past three. All the womens in town Was gathered round me. Sweet gals was a-moanin’,
Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is… (America never was America to me.…
You and your whole race. Look down upon the town in which y… And be ashamed. Look down upon white folks And upon yourselves
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…
It would be nice In any case, To someday meet you Face to face Walking down
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,
Where is the Jim Crow section On this merry—go—round, Mister, cause I want to ride? Down South where I come from White and colored