Blues Had The Pulse Beat Of The

Good Morning, Daddy! Ain't You Heard The Boogie-woogie Rumble Of A Dream Deferred? Listen Closely: You'll Hear Their Feet Beating Out And Beating Out A - You Think It's A Happy Beat? Listen To It Closely: Ain't You Heard Something Underneath Like A - What Did I Say? Sure, I'm Happy! Take It Away! Dream Boogie Hey, Pop! Re-bop! Mop! Y-e-a-h!

When You Turn The Corner And You Run Into Yourself Then You Know That You Have Turned All The Corners That Are Left.

I Loved My Friend He Went Away From Me There's Nothing More To Say The Poem Ends, Soft As It Began- I Loved My Friend.

Negro Writers, Just By Being Black, Have Been On The Blacklist All Our Lives. Do You Know That There Are Libraries In Our Country That Will Not Stock A Book By A Negro Writer, Not Even As A Gift? There Are Towns Where Negro Newspapers And Magazines Cannot Be Sold Except Surreptitiously. There Are American Magazines That Have Never Published Anything By Negroes. There Are Film Studios That Have Never Hired A Negro Writer. Censorship For Us Begins At The Color Line.

Don't Come Giving Me, Who's Old Enough To Die And Too Near Blind To Create Anything Any More Anyhow, A Great Big Banquet That You Eat Up In Honor Of Your Own Stomachs As Much As In Honor Of Me- Who's Toothless And Can't Eat.