#AmericanWriters
I work all day, Said Simple John, Myself a house to buy. I work all day, Said Simple John,
Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you— Then, it will be true. I wonder if it’s that simple?
Oh, silver tree! Oh, shining rivers of the soul! In a Harlem cabaret Six long—headed jazzers play. A dancing girl whose eyes are bold
How still, How strangely still The water is today, It is not good For water
You say I O.K.ed LONG DISTANCE? O.K.ed it when? My goodness, Central That was then!
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.
What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore— And then run?
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think
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
My name is Johnson— Madam Alberta K. The Madam stands for business. I’m smart that way. I had a
Harlem Sent him home in a long box— Too dead To know why:
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!
And that is what poetry may do, wrap up your dreams, protect and preserve and hold them until maybe they come true. Columbus dreamed of finding a new world, he found it. Edison dreamed ...
Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.
I take my dreams and make of them… and a round fountain with a beauti… And a song with a broken heart and… Do you understand my dreams? Sometimes you say you do,