#Americans #Blacks #PulitzerPrize #Women #XIXCentury #XXCentury
Look into her eyes and know: She does not think
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
If my sorrow were deeper I’d be, along with you, under the ocean’s floor; but today I learn that the oil that pools beneath the ocean floor
Knowing you might some day come and how unprepared I’ve always been like Mr. Sloppy in Charles Dickens’
I have a friend who is turning gray, not just her hair, and I do not know why this is so.
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...
Expect nothing. Live frugally On surprise. become a stranger To need of pity Or, if compassion be freely
His posture From so many years Holding his robe with one hand Is odd. His gait
Be nobody’s darling; Be an outcast. Take the contradictions Of your life And wrap around
The tree of life has fallen on my small house. I thought it was so much bigger! But it is not. There in the distance I see the m…
I will keep Broken things: The big clay Pot
Going out to the garden this morning to plant seeds for my winter greens —the strong, fiery mustard
If I was President The first thing I would do is call Mumia Abu—Jamal. No, if I was president
I Sing of Mumia brilliant and strong and of the captivity that few black men escape