Poetry Corner

Poetry Corner

Now you understand / Just why my head’s not bowed / I don’t shout or jump about / Or have to talk real loud.
And how you swore, if somebody beeped the bell, And how my heart played hopscotch if the telephone rang;
And how you swore, if somebody beeped the bell, And how my heart played hopscotch if the telephone rang;
I stand still above an island, fist straight in the air / Scar on my face, thick braids in my hair
in the night / in my half hour / negro dreams / i hear voices knocking at the door
Celestial choir! enthron'd in realms of light, Columbia's scenes of glorious toils I write.
We were running out of breath, as we ran out to meet ourselves. We were surfacing the edge of our ancestors’ fights, and ready to strike.
 The Dying Words of Goethe “Light! more light! the shadows deepen, And my life is ebbing low, Throw the windows widely open: Light! more light! before I go.
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