#AmericanWriters
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
2 and 2 are 4. 4 and 4 are 8. But what would happen If the last 4 was late? And how would it be
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…
Harlem Sent him home in a long box— Too dead To know why:
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’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…
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—
She, In the dark, Found light Brighter than many ever see. She,
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done
Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
Fine living . . . a la carte? Come to the Waldorf—Astoria! LISTEN HUNGRY ONES! Look! See what Vanity Fair says… new Waldorf—Astoria:
When a man starts out with nothing… When a man starts out with his han… Empty, but clean, When a man starts to build a world… He starts first with himself
He glides so swiftly Back into the grass— Gives me the courtesy of road To let me pass, That I am half ashamed
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think