#AmericanWriters
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
Children, I come back today To tell you a story of the long da… That I had to climb, that I had t… In order that the race might live… Look at my face —dark as the night…
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
She, In the dark, Found light Brighter than many ever see. She,
Being walkers with the dawn and mo… Walkers with the sun and morning, We are not afraid of night, Nor days of gloom, Nor darkness—
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,
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
You sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
I woke up this mornin’ ’Bout half-past three. All the womens in town Was gathered round me. Sweet gals was a-moanin’,
The ivory gods, And the ebony gods, And the gods of diamond and jade, Sit silently on their temple shelv… While the people
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!
Big Boy came Carrying a mermaid On his shoulders And the mermaid Had her tail
Where is the Jim Crow section On this merry—go—round, Mister, cause I want to ride? Down South where I come from White and colored
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,