#AmericanWriters
I play it cool I dig all jive. That's the reason I stay alive. My motto
My old man’s a white old man And my old mother’s black. If ever I cursed my white old man I take my curses back. If ever I cursed my black old mot…
Harlem Sent him home in a long box— Too dead To know why:
Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
I look at the world From awakening eyes in a black fac… And this is what I see: This fenced—off narrow space Assigned to me.
To fling my arms wide In some place of the sun, To whirl and to dance Till the white day is done. Then rest at cool evening
I woke up this mornin’ ’Bout half-past three. All the womens in town Was gathered round me. Sweet gals was a-moanin’,
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
2 and 2 are 4. 4 and 4 are 8. But what would happen If the last 4 was late? And how would it be
You sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
We passed their graves: The dead men there, Winners or losers, Did not care. In the dark
You say I O.K.ed LONG DISTANCE? O.K.ed it when? My goodness, Central That was then!
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
