#AmericanWriters
I worked for a woman, She wasn’t mean— But she had a twelve—room House to clean. Had to get breakfast,
Well, son, I’ll tell you: Life for me ain’t been no crystal… It’s had tacks in it, And splinters, And boards torn up,
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
The census man, The day he came round, Wanted my name To put it down. I said, Johnson,
And that is what poetry may do, wrap up your dreams, protect and preserve and hold them until maybe they come true. Columbus dreamed of finding a new world, he found it. Edison dreamed ...
When Susanna Jones wears red her face is like an ancient cameo Turned brown by the ages. Come with a blast of trumphets, J… When Susanna Jones wears red
I am God— Without one friend, Alone in my purity World without end. Below me young lovers
I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
When I get to be a composer I’m gonna write me some music abou… Daybreak in Alabama And I’m gonna put the purtiest so… Rising out of the ground like a sw…
My old man’s a white old man And my old mother’s black. If ever I cursed my white old man I take my curses back. If ever I cursed my black old mot…
I went to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you— Then, it will be true. I wonder if it’s that simple?
Goin’ down the road, Lawd, Goin’ down the road. Down the road, Lawd, Way, way down the road. Got to find somebody
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
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