#AmericanWriters
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
'Me an’ ma baby’s Got two mo’ ways, Two mo’ ways to do de Charleston!… Da, da, Da, da, da!
My name is Johnson— Madam Alberta K. The Madam stands for business. I’m smart that way. I had a
You sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
Well, son, I’ll tell you: Life for me ain’t been no crystal… It’s had tacks in it, And splinters, And boards torn up,
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…
I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh,
I went down to the river, I set down on the bank. I tried to think but couldn’t, So I jumped in and sank. I came up once and hollered!
Gather quickly Out of darkness All the songs you know And throw them at the sun Before they melt
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think
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
He glides so swiftly Back into the grass— Gives me the courtesy of road To let me pass, That I am half ashamed
How quiet It is in this sick room Where on the bed A silent woman lies between two lo… Life and Death,