#AmericanWriters
Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.
He glides so swiftly Back into the grass— Gives me the courtesy of road To let me pass, That I am half ashamed
I went to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
I dream a world where man No other man will scorn, Where love will bless the earth And peace its paths adorn I dream a world where all
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
Being walkers with the dawn and mo… Walkers with the sun and morning, We are not afraid of night, Nor days of gloom, Nor darkness—
I could take the Harlem night and wrap around you, Take the neon lights and make a cr… Take the Lenox Avenue busses, Taxis, subways,
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 live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
That Justice is a blind goddess Is a thing to which we black are w… Her bandage hides two festering so… That once perhaps were eyes.
Here I sit With my shoes mismated. Lawdy—mercy! I’s frustrated!
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…
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know
How still, How strangely still The water is today, It is not good For water
