#AmericanWriters
The night is beautiful, So the faces of my people. The stars are beautiful, So the eyes of my people. Beautiful, also, is the sun.
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
How quiet It is in this sick room Where on the bed A silent woman lies between two lo… Life and Death,
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 ...
I play it cool I dig all jive. That's the reason I stay alive. My motto
The gold moth did not love him So, gorgeous, she flew away. But the gray moth circled the flam… Until the break of day. And then, with wings like a dead d…
That Justice is a blind goddess Is a thing to which we black are w… Her bandage hides two festering so… That once perhaps were eyes.
My old man’s a white old man And my old mother’s black. If ever I cursed my white old man I take my curses back. If ever I cursed my black old mot…
Only dumb guys fight. If I wasn’t dumb I wouldn’t be fightin’. I could make six dollars a day On the docks
I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
I take my dreams and make of them… and a round fountain with a beauti… And a song with a broken heart and… Do you understand my dreams? Sometimes you say you do,
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
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
It would be nice In any case, To someday meet you Face to face Walking down
How still, How strangely still The water is today, It is not good For water