#AmericanWriters
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
By what sends the white kids I ain’t sent: I know I can’t be President.
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.
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know
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
It was a long time ago. I have almost forgotten my dream. But it was there then, In front of me, Bright like a sun—
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
How quiet It is in this sick room Where on the bed A silent woman lies between two lo… Life and Death,
The ivory gods, And the ebony gods, And the gods of diamond and jade, Sit silently on their temple shelv… While the people
I sat there singing her Songs in the dark. She said; 'I do not understand The words’.
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
He glides so swiftly Back into the grass— Gives me the courtesy of road To let me pass, That I am half ashamed
And that is what poetry may do, wrap up your dreams, protect and preserve and hold them until maybe they come true. Columbus dreamed of finding a new world, he found it. Edison dreamed ...
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you— Then, it will be true. I wonder if it’s that simple?