#AmericanWriters #BlackWriters
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
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…
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
He glides so swiftly Back into the grass— Gives me the courtesy of road To let me pass, That I am half ashamed
My old mule, He’s gota grin on his face. He’s been a mule so long He’s forgotten about his race. I’m like that old mule —
You sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
I work all day, Said Simple John, Myself a house to buy. I work all day, Said Simple John,
The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.
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,
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
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
My name is Johnson— Madam Alberta K. The Madam stands for business. I’m smart that way. I had a
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
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
Children, I come back today To tell you a story of the long da… That I had to climb, that I had t… In order that the race might live… Look at my face —dark as the night…
