#AmericanWriters #BlackWriters
I work all day, Said Simple John, Myself a house to buy. I work all day, Said Simple John,
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
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
The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.
I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh,
Harlem Sent him home in a long box— Too dead To know why:
It was a long time ago. I have almost forgotten my dream. But it was there then, In front of me, Bright like a sun—
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
I am your son, white man! Georgia dusk And the turpentine woods. One of the pillars of the temple f… You are my son!
She, In the dark, Found light Brighter than many ever see. She,
Fine living . . . a la carte? Come to the Waldorf—Astoria! LISTEN HUNGRY ONES! Look! See what Vanity Fair says… new Waldorf—Astoria:
Good morning, daddy! Ain’t you heard The boogie—woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? Listen closely:
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
Goin’ down the road, Lawd, Goin’ down the road. Down the road, Lawd, Way, way down the road. Got to find somebody
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
