#AmericanWriters
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
I’ve known rivers: I’ve known rivers ancient as the w… My soul has grown deep like the ri… I bathed in the Euphrates when da… I built my hut near the Congo and…
I woke up this mornin’ ’Bout half-past three. All the womens in town Was gathered round me. Sweet gals was a-moanin’,
Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—
I’m all alone in this world, she s… Ain’t got nobody to share my bed, Ain’t got nobody to hold my hand— The truth of the matter’s I ain’t got no man.
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.
It would be nice In any case, To someday meet you Face to face Walking down
I could take the Harlem night and wrap around you, Take the neon lights and make a cr… Take the Lenox Avenue busses, Taxis, subways,
Here I sit With my shoes mismated. Lawdy—mercy! I’s frustrated!
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
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 to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
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…
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.
I worked for a woman, She wasn’t mean— But she had a twelve—room House to clean. Had to get breakfast,