#AmericanWriters
Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—
Goin’ down the road, Lawd, Goin’ down the road. Down the road, Lawd, Way, way down the road. Got to find somebody
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 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
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
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
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,
How quiet It is in this sick room Where on the bed A silent woman lies between two lo… Life and Death,
I play it cool I dig all jive. That's the reason I stay alive. My motto
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 ...
The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.
What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore— And then run?
Harlem Sent him home in a long box— Too dead To know why:
My name is Johnson— Madam Alberta K. The Madam stands for business. I’m smart that way. I had a
