#AmericanWriters
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
Harlem Sent him home in a long box— Too dead To know why:
I know I am The Negro Problem Being wined and dined, Answering the usual questions That come to white mind
Good morning, daddy! Ain’t you heard The boogie—woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? Listen closely:
When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. Since I come up North de
Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is… (America never was America to me.…
Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—
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
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
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!
I look at the world From awakening eyes in a black fac… And this is what I see: This fenced—off narrow space Assigned to me.
God in His infinite wisdom Did not make me very wise— So when my actions are stupid They hardly take God by surprise
What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore— And then run?
I woke up this mornin’ ’Bout half-past three. All the womens in town Was gathered round me. Sweet gals was a-moanin’,
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—