#Americans #Blacks
I am your son, white man! Georgia dusk And the turpentine woods. One of the pillars of the temple f… You are my son!
I know I am The Negro Problem Being wined and dined, Answering the usual questions That come to white mind
The census man, The day he came round, Wanted my name To put it down. I said, Johnson,
You say I O.K.ed LONG DISTANCE? O.K.ed it when? My goodness, Central That was then!
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 —
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.
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!
Gather quickly Out of darkness All the songs you know And throw them at the sun Before they melt
I will take you heart. I will take your soul out of your… As though I were God. I will not be satisfied With the touch of your hand
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…
Clean the spittoons, boy. Detroit, Chicago, Atlantic City, Palm Beach.
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore— And then run?
