#AmericanWriters
We passed their graves: The dead men there, Winners or losers, Did not care. In the dark
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
Listen! Dear dream of utter aliveness— Touching my body of utter death— Tell me, O quickly! dream of aliv… The flaming source of your bright…
That Justice is a blind goddess Is a thing to which we black are w… Her bandage hides two festering so… That once perhaps were eyes.
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.
Gather quickly Out of darkness All the songs you know And throw them at the sun Before they melt
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
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’ve known rivers: I’ve known rivers ancient as the w… My soul has grown deep like the ri… I bathed in the Euphrates when da… I built my hut near the Congo and…
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
Only dumb guys fight. If I wasn’t dumb I wouldn’t be fightin’. I could make six dollars a day On the docks