December 0

Blog Archive

Thu, 24.09.2009

THE SONG OF THE SMOKE by William Edward Burghardt Du Bois.

I am the smoke king, I am black. I am swinging in the sky. I am ringing worlds on high: I am the thought of the throbbing mills, I am the soul of the soul toil kills, I am the ripple of trading rills, Up I’m curling from the sod, I am whirling home to God. I am the smoke king, I am black.

I am the smoke king, I am black.

learn more

New Poem Each Day

Poetry Corner

She does not know Her beauty, She thinks her brown body Has no glory. If she could dance Naked, Under palm trees And see her image in the river She would know. But there are no palm trees On... NO IMAGES by Waring Cuney.
Read More