#AmericanWriters
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 —
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
In places like Selma, Alabama, Kids say, In places like Chicago and New York...
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,
I worked for a woman, She wasn’t mean— But she had a twelve—room House to clean. Had to get breakfast,
I will take you heart. I will take your soul out of your… As though I were God. I will not be satisfied With the touch of your hand
You and your whole race. Look down upon the town in which y… And be ashamed. Look down upon white folks And upon yourselves
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.
My name is Johnson— Madam Alberta K. The Madam stands for business. I’m smart that way. I had a
How quiet It is in this sick room Where on the bed A silent woman lies between two lo… Life and Death,
I am God— Without one friend, Alone in my purity World without end. Below me young lovers
I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh,
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.