#AmericanWriters
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…
'Me an’ ma baby’s Got two mo’ ways, Two mo’ ways to do de Charleston!… Da, da, Da, da, da!
The night is beautiful, So the faces of my people. The stars are beautiful, So the eyes of my people. Beautiful, also, is the sun.
Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you— Then, it will be true. I wonder if it’s that simple?
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…
Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—
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—
I’ve known rivers: I’ve known rivers ancient as the w… flow of human blood in human veins My soul has grown deep like the ri… I bathed in the Euphrates when da…
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—
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 catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know
I know I am The Negro Problem Being wined and dined, Answering the usual questions That come to white mind
Democracy will not come Today, this year Nor ever Through compromise and fear. I have as much right
I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—