Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
We dreamed of doing but could not bring ourselves to do.
Love is a rock against the wind. Not soft like silk and lace.
To write a blues song is to regiment riots and pluck gems from graves.
I died in 1960 from a prison sentence and poetry brought me back to life.
Black Poets should live--not leap From steel bridges, like the white boys do.
Let all Black Poets die as trumpets, And be buried in the dust of marching feet.
I boil my tears in a twisted spoon And dance like an angel on the point of a needle.
Each Fall the graves of my grandfathers call me, the brown hills and red gullies of mississippi send out their electric messages, galvanizing my genes.