#AmericanWriters
The ivory gods, And the ebony gods, And the gods of diamond and jade, Sit silently on their temple shelv… While the people
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,
I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
I am your son, white man! Georgia dusk And the turpentine woods. One of the pillars of the temple f… You are my son!
God in His infinite wisdom Did not make me very wise— So when my actions are stupid They hardly take God by surprise
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—
Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams
When a man starts out with nothing… When a man starts out with his han… Empty, but clean, When a man starts to build a world… He starts first with himself
It was a long time ago. I have almost forgotten my dream. But it was there then, In front of me, Bright like a sun—
Let’s go see Old Abe Sitting in the marble and the moon… Sitting lonely in the marble and t… Quiet for ten thousand centuries,… Quiet for a million, million years…
I went down to the river, I set down on the bank. I tried to think but couldn’t, So I jumped in and sank. I came up once and hollered!
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
Clean the spittoons, boy. Detroit, Chicago, Atlantic City, Palm Beach.
The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.
I am God— Without one friend, Alone in my purity World without end. Below me young lovers