#AmericanWriters
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
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done
I’ve known rivers: I’ve known rivers ancient as the w… flow of human blood in human veins My soul has grown deep like the ri… I bathed in the Euphrates when da…
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know
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—
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
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
Landlord, landlord, My roof has sprung a leak. Don’t you 'member I told you abou… Way last week? Landlord, landlord,
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,
My old mule, He’s gota grin on his face. He’s been a mule so long He’s forgotten about his race. I’m like that old mule —
I am God— Without one friend, Alone in my purity World without end. Below me young lovers
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!
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 ...
Big Boy came Carrying a mermaid On his shoulders And the mermaid Had her tail
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,