#AmericanWriters
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
God in His infinite wisdom Did not make me very wise— So when my actions are stupid They hardly take God by surprise
We passed their graves: The dead men there, Winners or losers, Did not care. In the dark
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think
Fine living . . . a la carte? Come to the Waldorf—Astoria! LISTEN HUNGRY ONES! Look! See what Vanity Fair says… new Waldorf—Astoria:
I dream a world where man No other man will scorn, Where love will bless the earth And peace its paths adorn I dream a world where all
Here I sit With my shoes mismated. Lawdy—mercy! I’s frustrated!
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
Only dumb guys fight. If I wasn’t dumb I wouldn’t be fightin’. I could make six dollars a day On the docks
I sat there singing her Songs in the dark. She said; 'I do not understand The words’.
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.
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,
When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. Since I come up North de
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…