#AmericanWriters
When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. Since I come up North de
I play it cool I dig all jive. That's the reason I stay alive. My motto
I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
Droning a drowsy syncopated tune, Rocking back and forth to a mellow… I heard a Negro play. Down on Lenox Avenue the other ni… By the pale dull pallor of an old…
Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head w… Let the rain sing you a lullaby. The rain makes still pools on the… The rain makes running pools in th…
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…
I worked for a woman, She wasn’t mean— But she had a twelve—room House to clean. Had to get breakfast,
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 ivory gods, And the ebony gods, And the gods of diamond and jade, Sit silently on their temple shelv… While the people
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—
I take my dreams and make of them… and a round fountain with a beauti… And a song with a broken heart and… Do you understand my dreams? Sometimes you say you do,
Harlem Sent him home in a long box— Too dead To know why:
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
