#AmericanWriters #BlackWriters
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
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…
When Susanna Jones wears red her face is like an ancient cameo Turned brown by the ages. Come with a blast of trumphets, J… When Susanna Jones wears red
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think
He glides so swiftly Back into the grass— Gives me the courtesy of road To let me pass, That I am half ashamed
The census man, The day he came round, Wanted my name To put it down. I said, Johnson,
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
In places like Selma, Alabama, Kids say, In places like Chicago and New York...
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know
Droning a drowsy syncopated tune, Rocking back and forth to a mellow… I heard a Negro play. Down on Lenox Avenue the other ni… By the pale dull pallor of an old…
The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.
God in His infinite wisdom Did not make me very wise— So when my actions are stupid They hardly take God by surprise
How quiet It is in this sick room Where on the bed A silent woman lies between two lo… Life and Death,
The gold moth did not love him So, gorgeous, she flew away. But the gray moth circled the flam… Until the break of day. And then, with wings like a dead d…
