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.

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New Poem Each Day

Poetry Corner

To be a Negro on a day like this Demands forgiveness. Bruised with blow on blow, Betrayed, like him whose woe dimmed eyes gave bliss, Still must one succor... AT THE CLOSED GATE OF JUSTICE by James David Corrothers.
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