#AmericanWriters
I went to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
Let’s go see Old Abe Sitting in the marble and the moon… Sitting lonely in the marble and t… Quiet for ten thousand centuries,… Quiet for a million, million years…
I am God— Without one friend, Alone in my purity World without end. Below me young lovers
How still, How strangely still The water is today, It is not good For water
I dream a world where man No other man will scorn, Where love will bless the earth And peace its paths adorn I dream a world where all
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
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
'Me an’ ma baby’s Got two mo’ ways, Two mo’ ways to do de Charleston!… Da, da, Da, da, da!
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
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
By what sends the white kids I ain’t sent: I know I can’t be President.
When the old junk man Death Comes to gather up our bodies And toss them into the sack of obl… I wonder if he will find The corpse of a white multi—millio…
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—
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 catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.