#AmericanWriters #FairyTalesAndLegends #MenAndWomen #MythologyAndFolklore #Relationships
You sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
It was a long time ago. I have almost forgotten my dream. But it was there then, In front of me, Bright like a sun—
How still, How strangely still The water is today, It is not good For water
Let’s go see Old Abe Sitting in the marble and the moon… Sitting lonely in the marble and t… Quiet for ten thousand centuries,… Quiet for a million, million years…
I’m all alone in this world, she s… Ain’t got nobody to share my bed, Ain’t got nobody to hold my hand— The truth of the matter’s I ain’t got no man.
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
Oh, silver tree! Oh, shining rivers of the soul! In a Harlem cabaret Six long—headed jazzers play. A dancing girl whose eyes are bold
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
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
Fine living . . . a la carte? Come to the Waldorf—Astoria! LISTEN HUNGRY ONES! Look! See what Vanity Fair says… new Waldorf—Astoria:
I work all day, Said Simple John, Myself a house to buy. I work all day, Said Simple John,
God in His infinite wisdom Did not make me very wise— So when my actions are stupid They hardly take God by surprise
I woke up this mornin’ ’Bout half-past three. All the womens in town Was gathered round me. Sweet gals was a-moanin’,
I got to leave this town. It’s a lonesome place. Got to leave this town cause It’s a lonesome place. A po’, po’ boy can’t
By what sends the white kids I ain’t sent: I know I can’t be President.