#Americans #Blacks #PulitzerPrize #Women #XIXCentury #XXCentury
I Sing of Mumia brilliant and strong and of the captivity that few black men escape
His posture From so many years Holding his robe with one hand Is odd. His gait
Be nobody’s darling; Be an outcast. Take the contradictions Of your life And wrap around
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
When they torture your mother plant a tree When they torture your father plant a tree When they torture your brother
My desire is always the same; wherever Life deposits me: I want to stick my toe & soon my whole body
If I was President The first thing I would do is call Mumia Abu—Jamal. No, if I was president
When you see water in a stream you say: oh, this is stream water; When you see water in the river you say: oh, this is water
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...
When the people have won a victory whether small or large do you ever wonder
The old men used to sing And lifted a brother Carefully Out the door I used to think they
Word reaches us that you are sleeping, sleeping. Dismayed we have turned to the sea. We encounter among others
Remember When we ended It all —for a weekend— & how
When you thought me poor, my poverty was shaming. When blackness was unwelcome we found it best that I stay home.