#AmericanWriters #BlackWriters #FemaleWriters #PulitzerPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
The old men used to sing And lifted a brother Carefully Out the door I used to think they
I will keep Broken things: The big clay Pot
Did you ever understand this? If my spirit was poor, how could… Was I depressed? Understanding editing, I see how a comma, removed or inse…
To change the world enough you must cease to be afraid of the poor. We experience your fear as the lea… humiliations; in the past
Don’t be like those who ask for ev… praise, a blurb, a free ride in my… limousine. They ask for everything… anything in return. Be like those who can see that my…
Let other leaders Retire To play golf & write Memoirs
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
How can Humanity look the deer in the face? How can I,
If I was President The first thing I would do is call Mumia Abu—Jamal. No, if I was president
Before I leave the stage I will sing the only song I was meant truly to sing. It is the song of I AM.
When the people have won a victory whether small or large do you ever wonder
As if I’ve swallowed A watermelon And Sidestepping My digestive tract
Word reaches us that you are sleeping, sleeping. Dismayed we have turned to the sea. We encounter among others
When they torture your mother plant a tree When they torture your father plant a tree When they torture your brother
My desire is always the same; wherever Life deposits me: I want to stick my toe & soon my whole body