#AmericanWriters
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
You and your whole race. Look down upon the town in which y… And be ashamed. Look down upon white folks And upon yourselves
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
Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams
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 —
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done
2 and 2 are 4. 4 and 4 are 8. But what would happen If the last 4 was late? And how would it be
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.
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,
I woke up this mornin’ ’Bout half-past three. All the womens in town Was gathered round me. Sweet gals was a-moanin’,
My name is Johnson— Madam Alberta K. The Madam stands for business. I’m smart that way. I had a
Goin’ down the road, Lawd, Goin’ down the road. Down the road, Lawd, Way, way down the road. Got to find somebody
Big Boy came Carrying a mermaid On his shoulders And the mermaid Had her tail
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know
In the Quarter of the Negroes Where the doors are doors of paper Dust of dingy atoms Blows a scratchy sound. Amorphous jack—o’—Lanterns caper