#AmericanWriters
Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head w… Let the rain sing you a lullaby. The rain makes still pools on the… The rain makes running pools in th…
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
The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
Droning a drowsy syncopated tune, Rocking back and forth to a mellow… I heard a Negro play. Down on Lenox Avenue the other ni… By the pale dull pallor of an old…
Big Boy came Carrying a mermaid On his shoulders And the mermaid Had her tail
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
Democracy will not come Today, this year Nor ever Through compromise and fear. I have as much right
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.
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.
What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore— And then run?
In places like Selma, Alabama, Kids say, In places like Chicago and New York...
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,
The ivory gods, And the ebony gods, And the gods of diamond and jade, Sit silently on their temple shelv… While the people