#Americans #Blacks #PulitzerPrize #Women #XIXCentury #XXCentury
When you see water in a stream you say: oh, this is stream water; When you see water in the river you say: oh, this is water
I will keep Broken things: The big clay Pot
If I was President The first thing I would do is call Mumia Abu—Jamal. No, if I was president
His posture From so many years Holding his robe with one hand Is odd. His gait
Reminding us, as they witnessed our curiosity about them, that no matter the losses, there’s something fabulous going on at every stage of Life, something to let go of, maybe, but for d...
The old men used to sing And lifted a brother Carefully Out the door I used to think they
When you thought me poor, my poverty was shaming. When blackness was unwelcome we found it best that I stay home.
Remember When we ended It all —for a weekend— & how
When they torture your mother plant a tree When they torture your father plant a tree When they torture your brother
Before I leave the stage I will sing the only song I was meant truly to sing. It is the song of I AM.
With your unknown to me Odd magic You came To me:
Be nobody’s darling; Be an outcast. Take the contradictions Of your life And wrap around
When the people have won a victory whether small or large do you ever wonder
Word reaches us that you are sleeping, sleeping. Dismayed we have turned to the sea. We encounter among others
Knowing you might some day come and how unprepared I’ve always been like Mr. Sloppy in Charles Dickens’