#AmericanWriters #BlackWriters
Landlord, landlord, My roof has sprung a leak. Don’t you 'member I told you abou… Way last week? Landlord, landlord,
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know
When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. Since I come up North de
We passed their graves: The dead men there, Winners or losers, Did not care. In the dark
You and your whole race. Look down upon the town in which y… And be ashamed. Look down upon white folks And upon yourselves
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
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 ...
I know I am The Negro Problem Being wined and dined, Answering the usual questions That come to white mind
Being walkers with the dawn and mo… Walkers with the sun and morning, We are not afraid of night, Nor days of gloom, Nor darkness—
What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore— And then run?
When a man starts out with nothing… When a man starts out with his han… Empty, but clean, When a man starts to build a world… He starts first with himself
Good morning, daddy! Ain’t you heard The boogie—woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? Listen closely:
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.
I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh,
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?
