#AmericanWriters
In the Quarter of the Negroes Where the doors are doors of paper Dust of dingy atoms Blows a scratchy sound. Amorphous jack—o’—Lanterns caper
Listen! Dear dream of utter aliveness— Touching my body of utter death— Tell me, O quickly! dream of aliv… The flaming source of your bright…
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,
I play it cool I dig all jive. That's the reason I stay alive. My motto
Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head w… Let the rain sing you a lullaby. The rain makes still pools on the… The rain makes running pools in th…
Good morning, daddy! Ain’t you heard The boogie—woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? Listen closely:
We passed their graves: The dead men there, Winners or losers, Did not care. In the dark
It’s such a Bore Being always Poor.
I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
Big Boy came Carrying a mermaid On his shoulders And the mermaid Had her tail
Where is the Jim Crow section On this merry—go—round, Mister, cause I want to ride? Down South where I come from White and colored
Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.
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…
I worked for a woman, She wasn’t mean— But she had a twelve—room House to clean. Had to get breakfast,
I am God— Without one friend, Alone in my purity World without end. Below me young lovers