#Americans #Blacks #PulitzerPrize #Women #XIXCentury #XXCentury
Did you ever understand this? If my spirit was poor, how could… Was I depressed? Understanding editing, I see how a comma, removed or inse…
She is the one who will notice that the first snapdragon of Spring is
in our lifetime. Which makes the idea of elections Notice how this word has “man” right in the middle of it? That’s one reason I like it. He is right there, front and center. But he i...
I have a friend who is turning gray, not just her hair, and I do not know why this is so.
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...
Knowing you might some day come and how unprepared I’ve always been like Mr. Sloppy in Charles Dickens’
The old men used to sing And lifted a brother Carefully Out the door I used to think they
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
Remember When we ended It all —for a weekend— & how
I Sing of Mumia brilliant and strong and of the captivity that few black men escape
Be nobody’s darling; Be an outcast. Take the contradictions Of your life And wrap around
Word reaches us that you are sleeping, sleeping. Dismayed we have turned to the sea. We encounter among others
I said to Poetry:"I’m finished with you." Having to almost die before some wierd light comes creeping through
Look into her eyes and know: She does not think
When you thought me poor, my poverty was shaming. When blackness was unwelcome we found it best that I stay home.