#AmericanWriters
She, In the dark, Found light Brighter than many ever see. She,
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…
Gather quickly Out of darkness All the songs you know And throw them at the sun Before they melt
I’ve known rivers: I’ve known rivers ancient as the w… My soul has grown deep like the ri… I bathed in the Euphrates when da… I built my hut near the Congo and…
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—
In the Quarter of the Negroes Where the doors are doors of paper Dust of dingy atoms Blows a scratchy sound. Amorphous jack—o’—Lanterns caper
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,
We passed their graves: The dead men there, Winners or losers, Did not care. In the dark
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams
The census man, The day he came round, Wanted my name To put it down. I said, Johnson,
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 sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. Since I come up North de