#AmericanWriters
Big Boy came Carrying a mermaid On his shoulders And the mermaid Had her tail
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 —
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
Goin’ down the road, Lawd, Goin’ down the road. Down the road, Lawd, Way, way down the road. Got to find somebody
In places like Selma, Alabama, Kids say, In places like Chicago and New York...
We passed their graves: The dead men there, Winners or losers, Did not care. In the dark
I am your son, white man! Georgia dusk And the turpentine woods. One of the pillars of the temple f… You are my son!
What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore— And then run?
Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—
Listen! Dear dream of utter aliveness— Touching my body of utter death— Tell me, O quickly! dream of aliv… The flaming source of your bright…
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
She, In the dark, Found light Brighter than many ever see. She,
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.
When the old junk man Death Comes to gather up our bodies And toss them into the sack of obl… I wonder if he will find The corpse of a white multi—millio…
Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.
