#AmericanWriters
Here I sit With my shoes mismated. Lawdy—mercy! I’s frustrated!
To fling my arms wide In some place of the sun, To whirl and to dance Till the white day is done. Then rest at cool evening
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…
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done
Gather quickly Out of darkness All the songs you know And throw them at the sun Before they melt
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,
I worked for a woman, She wasn’t mean— But she had a twelve—room House to clean. Had to get breakfast,
I am your son, white man! Georgia dusk And the turpentine woods. One of the pillars of the temple f… You are my son!
We passed their graves: The dead men there, Winners or losers, Did not care. In the dark
That Justice is a blind goddess Is a thing to which we black are w… Her bandage hides two festering so… That once perhaps were eyes.
Oh, silver tree! Oh, shining rivers of the soul! In a Harlem cabaret Six long—headed jazzers play. A dancing girl whose eyes are bold
Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
Good morning, daddy! Ain’t you heard The boogie—woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? Listen closely:
By what sends the white kids I ain’t sent: I know I can’t be President.