#AmericanWriters #BlackWriters
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
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
Fine living . . . a la carte? Come to the Waldorf—Astoria! LISTEN HUNGRY ONES! Look! See what Vanity Fair says… new Waldorf—Astoria:
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
Landlord, landlord, My roof has sprung a leak. Don’t you 'member I told you abou… Way last week? Landlord, landlord,
That Justice is a blind goddess Is a thing to which we black are w… Her bandage hides two festering so… That once perhaps were eyes.
Children, I come back today To tell you a story of the long da… That I had to climb, that I had t… In order that the race might live… Look at my face —dark as the night…
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
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,
How quiet It is in this sick room Where on the bed A silent woman lies between two lo… Life and Death,
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know
I worked for a woman, She wasn’t mean— But she had a twelve—room House to clean. Had to get breakfast,
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
