#AmericanWriters
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?
You say I O.K.ed LONG DISTANCE? O.K.ed it when? My goodness, Central That was then!
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
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
My name is Johnson— Madam Alberta K. The Madam stands for business. I’m smart that way. I had a
I know I am The Negro Problem Being wined and dined, Answering the usual questions That come to white mind
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.
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…
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
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.
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,
Droning a drowsy syncopated tune, Rocking back and forth to a mellow… I heard a Negro play. Down on Lenox Avenue the other ni… By the pale dull pallor of an old…
Fine living . . . a la carte? Come to the Waldorf—Astoria! LISTEN HUNGRY ONES! Look! See what Vanity Fair says… new Waldorf—Astoria: