#AmericanWriters
To fling my arms wide In some place of the sun, To whirl and to dance Till the white day is done. Then rest at cool evening
My old mule, He’s gota grin on his face. He’s been a mule so long He’s forgotten about his race. I’m like that old mule —
By what sends the white kids I ain’t sent: I know I can’t be President.
How quiet It is in this sick room Where on the bed A silent woman lies between two lo… Life and Death,
God in His infinite wisdom Did not make me very wise— So when my actions are stupid They hardly take God by surprise
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,
The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.
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…
I look at the world From awakening eyes in a black fac… And this is what I see: This fenced—off narrow space Assigned to me.
I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh,
I went to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
The ivory gods, And the ebony gods, And the gods of diamond and jade, Sit silently on their temple shelv… While the people
Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams