#AmericanWriters
I woke up this mornin’ ’Bout half-past three. All the womens in town Was gathered round me. Sweet gals was a-moanin’,
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know
Listen! Dear dream of utter aliveness— Touching my body of utter death— Tell me, O quickly! dream of aliv… The flaming source of your bright…
Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—
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 got to leave this town. It’s a lonesome place. Got to leave this town cause It’s a lonesome place. A po’, po’ boy can’t
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.
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 ...
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.
Harlem Sent him home in a long box— Too dead To know why:
When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. Since I come up North de
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—
It would be nice In any case, To someday meet you Face to face Walking down
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,