#AmericanWriters
How still, How strangely still The water is today, It is not good For water
2 and 2 are 4. 4 and 4 are 8. But what would happen If the last 4 was late? And how would it be
Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is… (America never was America to me.…
To fling my arms wide In some place of the sun, To whirl and to dance Till the white day is done. Then rest at cool evening
I went down to the river, I set down on the bank. I tried to think but couldn’t, So I jumped in and sank. I came up once and hollered!
The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.
When the shoe strings break On both your shoes And you’re in a hurry— That’s the blues. When you go to buy a candy bar
Gather quickly Out of darkness All the songs you know And throw them at the sun Before they melt
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.
Oh, silver tree! Oh, shining rivers of the soul! In a Harlem cabaret Six long—headed jazzers play. A dancing girl whose eyes are bold
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…
'Me an’ ma baby’s Got two mo’ ways, Two mo’ ways to do de Charleston!… Da, da, Da, da, da!
My old mule, He’s gota grin on his face. He’s been a mule so long He’s forgotten about his race. I’m like that old mule —
By what sends the white kids I ain’t sent: I know I can’t be President.
She, In the dark, Found light Brighter than many ever see. She,