#AmericanWriters
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
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
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.
He glides so swiftly Back into the grass— Gives me the courtesy of road To let me pass, That I am half ashamed
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 was so sick last night I Didn’t hardly know my mind. So sick last night I Didn’t know my mind. I drunk some bad licker that
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,
When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. Since I come up North de
When the shoe strings break On both your shoes And you’re in a hurry— That’s the blues. When you go to buy a candy bar
I work all day, Said Simple John, Myself a house to buy. I work all day, Said Simple John,
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done
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
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur