#AmericanWriters
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
It would be nice In any case, To someday meet you Face to face Walking down
How quiet It is in this sick room Where on the bed A silent woman lies between two lo… Life and Death,
I know I am The Negro Problem Being wined and dined, Answering the usual questions That come to white mind
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…
When Susanna Jones wears red her face is like an ancient cameo Turned brown by the ages. Come with a blast of trumphets, J… When Susanna Jones wears red
Landlord, landlord, My roof has sprung a leak. Don’t you 'member I told you abou… Way last week? Landlord, landlord,
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
You say I O.K.ed LONG DISTANCE? O.K.ed it when? My goodness, Central That was then!
I look at the world From awakening eyes in a black fac… And this is what I see: This fenced—off narrow space Assigned to me.
You sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
Where is the Jim Crow section On this merry—go—round, Mister, cause I want to ride? Down South where I come from White and colored
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…
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…