#AmericanWriters
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.
It was a long time ago. I have almost forgotten my dream. But it was there then, In front of me, Bright like a sun—
I went to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
When the shoe strings break On both your shoes And you’re in a hurry— That’s the blues. When you go to buy a candy bar
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
I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
My name is Johnson— Madam Alberta K. The Madam stands for business. I’m smart that way. I had a
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams
Let’s go see Old Abe Sitting in the marble and the moon… Sitting lonely in the marble and t… Quiet for ten thousand centuries,… Quiet for a million, million years…
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…
My old mule, He’s gota grin on his face. He’s been a mule so long He’s forgotten about his race. I’m like that old mule —
Listen! Dear dream of utter aliveness— Touching my body of utter death— Tell me, O quickly! dream of aliv… The flaming source of your bright…
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 ...
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,