#AmericanWriters #BlackWriters
It’s such a Bore Being always Poor.
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
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.
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
Clean the spittoons, boy. Detroit, Chicago, Atlantic City, Palm Beach.
The ivory gods, And the ebony gods, And the gods of diamond and jade, Sit silently on their temple shelv… While the people
Fine living . . . a la carte? Come to the Waldorf—Astoria! LISTEN HUNGRY ONES! Look! See what Vanity Fair says… new Waldorf—Astoria:
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
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
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think
Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.
Gather quickly Out of darkness All the songs you know And throw them at the sun Before they melt
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
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!
Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head w… Let the rain sing you a lullaby. The rain makes still pools on the… The rain makes running pools in th…
