#AmericanWriters #BlackWriters
The ivory gods, And the ebony gods, And the gods of diamond and jade, Sit silently on their temple shelv… While the people
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
It would be nice In any case, To someday meet you Face to face Walking down
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
I could take the Harlem night and wrap around you, Take the neon lights and make a cr… Take the Lenox Avenue busses, Taxis, subways,
I’ve known rivers: I’ve known rivers ancient as the w… My soul has grown deep like the ri… I bathed in the Euphrates when da… I built my hut near the Congo and…
How still, How strangely still The water is today, It is not good For water
I’ve known rivers: I’ve known rivers ancient as the w… flow of human blood in human veins My soul has grown deep like the ri… I bathed in the Euphrates when da…
Clean the spittoons, boy. Detroit, Chicago, Atlantic City, Palm Beach.
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
The night is beautiful, So the faces of my people. The stars are beautiful, So the eyes of my people. Beautiful, also, is the sun.
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore— And then run?
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
