#AmericanWriters
How can Humanity look the deer in the face? How can I,
I said to Poetry:"I’m finished with you." Having to almost die before some wierd light comes creeping through
When they torture your mother plant a tree When they torture your father plant a tree When they torture your brother
Knowing you might some day come and how unprepared I’ve always been like Mr. Sloppy in Charles Dickens’
If my sorrow were deeper I’d be, along with you, under the ocean’s floor; but today I learn that the oil that pools beneath the ocean floor
Don’t be like those who ask for ev… praise, a blurb, a free ride in my… limousine. They ask for everything… anything in return. Be like those who can see that my…
Reminding us, as they witnessed our curiosity about them, that no matter the losses, there’s something fabulous going on at every stage of Life, something to let go of, maybe, but for d...
Expect nothing. Live frugally On surprise. become a stranger To need of pity Or, if compassion be freely
Word reaches us that you are sleeping, sleeping. Dismayed we have turned to the sea. We encounter among others
I Sing of Mumia brilliant and strong and of the captivity that few black men escape
Let other leaders Retire To play golf & write Memoirs
My brothers knew The things you know. I did not scorn learning them; It’s just my mind
I will keep Broken things: The big clay Pot
Remember When we ended It all —for a weekend— & how
You confide in me that you are lonely,