#Americans #Blacks
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 ...
God in His infinite wisdom Did not make me very wise— So when my actions are stupid They hardly take God by surprise
Where is the Jim Crow section On this merry—go—round, Mister, cause I want to ride? Down South where I come from White and colored
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
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
I went down to the river, I set down on the bank. I tried to think but couldn’t, So I jumped in and sank. I came up once and hollered!
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,
I am your son, white man! Georgia dusk And the turpentine woods. One of the pillars of the temple f… You are my son!
Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—
The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.
I got to leave this town. It’s a lonesome place. Got to leave this town cause It’s a lonesome place. A po’, po’ boy can’t
I went to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
He glides so swiftly Back into the grass— Gives me the courtesy of road To let me pass, That I am half ashamed
I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh,
