December 0

Blog Archive

Sat, 04.12.2021

Theme For English by Langston Hughes

The instructor said,       Go home and write       a page tonight.       And let that page come out of you—       Then, it will be true. I wonder if it’s that simple? I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem.    I went to school there, then Durham, then here    to this college on the hill above Harlem.    I am […]

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Thu, 03.06.2021

Hail! United States of Africa, by Marcus Garvey

Hail! United States of Africa-free!Hail! Motherland most bright, divinely fair!State in perfect sisterhood united,Born of truth; mighty thou shalt ever be. Hail! Sweet land of our father’s noble kin!Let joy within thy bounds be ever known;Friend of the wandering poor, and helpless, thou,Light to all, such as freedom’s reigns within. From Liberia’s peaceful western coastTo […]

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Sat, 02.01.2021


The first thing you do is to forget that i’m Black.Second, you must never forget that i’m Black. You should be able to dig Aretha,but don’t play her every time i come over.And if you decide to play Beethoven – don’t tell mehis life story. They made us take music appreciation too. Eat soul food […]

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Sat, 06.06.2020

The Star-Spangled Banner by Francis Scott Key

Oh, say! can you see by the dawn’s early light What so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming; Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight, O’er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming? And the rocket’s red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there: Oh, […]

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Tue, 19.06.2018

The Good Life by Tracy K. Smith

When some people talk about money They speak as if it were a mysterious lover Who went out to buy milk and never Came back, and it makes me nostalgic For the years I lived on coffee and bread, Hungry all the time, walking to work on payday Like a woman journeying for water From […]

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Mon, 01.01.2018

FIRE by Wallace Thurman

FIRE . . . flaming, burning, searing,  and penetrating far beneath the superficial items of the flesh to boil the  sluggish blood. FIRE . . . a cry of conquest in the  night, warning those who sleep and revitalizing those who linger in the quiet places dozing. FIRE . . . melting steel and iron bars, […]

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Wed, 31.08.2016


Our tobacco they plant, and out cotton they pick, and our rice they can harvest and thrash;

They feed us in health, and they nurse us when sick, and they earn-while we pocket our cash.

They lead us when young and they help us when old, and their toil loads our tables and shelves;

But they’re “niggers”; and therefore (the truth must be told) They cannot take care of themselves. . .

Reference: The Freedmen’s Book, Lydia Mary Francis Child

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Sun, 27.01.2013

Vivian & James by Clive James

What a day it was on June 11, 1963
I stared at challenges that would set me free
Saw others do something I never thought would be
Did it so the whole world could see

A young Black woman and a young Black man
Set into motion a brand new educational plan
That was taboo before their cradle’s hand
But time ripened so they took a revolutionary stand

Laid bare an old way and made it new
Without the spill of blood just mental abuse
Showing to others like me what we could pursue
Demonstrating the stance that must continue

Open the door we are coming in!

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Thu, 24.09.2009

PRAISE SONG FOR THE DAY by Elizabeth Alexander

Each day we go about our business, walking past each other, catching each others’ eyes or not, about to speak or speaking. All about us is noise. All about us is noise and bramble, thorn and din, each one of our ancestors on our tongues. Someone is stitching up a hem, darning a hole in a uniform, patching a tire, repairing the things in need of repair.

Someone is trying to make music somewhere with a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.

A woman and her son wait for the bus.

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Thu, 24.09.2009

FEELINGS FROM ‘63 by Evelyn Dilworth-Williams

The clothes got wet but not the souls
From the forceful pouring of the hoses
The spirits were ne’er dampened
Though evil attempts were rampant
Flames were fueled and denied shame
To lay hands on the real aged old blame

Overcoming second class citizenry
Ne’er use the killing children bombs

We march
We sing
We cry
No more
No more
No more

‘Cause we’re ready to die
Believe it and that’s no lie
Change the guard
Here comes a new age start!!!

From: Morning Promises & My Evening Songs
Copyright 2004, Evelyn Dilworth-Williams

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New Poem Each Day

Poetry Corner

And where do your parents summer? she asked him. The front porch he replied... SUNDAY BRUNCH by Ruben Jackson.
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