#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…
I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
Well, son, I’ll tell you: Life for me ain’t been no crystal… It’s had tacks in it, And splinters, And boards torn up,
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—
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think
My name is Johnson— Madam Alberta K. The Madam stands for business. I’m smart that way. I had a
It would be nice In any case, To someday meet you Face to face Walking down
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
I am God— Without one friend, Alone in my purity World without end. Below me young lovers
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
I got to leave this town. It’s a lonesome place. Got to leave this town cause It’s a lonesome place. A po’, po’ boy can’t
When I get to be a composer I’m gonna write me some music abou… Daybreak in Alabama And I’m gonna put the purtiest so… Rising out of the ground like a sw…
I worked for a woman, She wasn’t mean— But she had a twelve—room House to clean. Had to get breakfast,