#AmericanWriters
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.
I play it cool I dig all jive. That's the reason I stay alive. My motto
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.
How quiet It is in this sick room Where on the bed A silent woman lies between two lo… Life and Death,
I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
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 ...
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…
You sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
I got to leave this town. It’s a lonesome place. Got to leave this town cause It’s a lonesome place. A po’, po’ boy can’t
I will take you heart. I will take your soul out of your… As though I were God. I will not be satisfied With the touch of your hand
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think
Landlord, landlord, My roof has sprung a leak. Don’t you 'member I told you abou… Way last week? Landlord, landlord,
I was so sick last night I Didn’t hardly know my mind. So sick last night I Didn’t know my mind. I drunk some bad licker that
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done