Riot (Gwendolyn Brooks Poems)
A riot is the language of the unheard.-martin luther kingJohn Cabot, out of Wilma, once a Wycliffe,all whitebluerose below his ...
A riot is the language of the unheard.-martin luther kingJohn Cabot, out of Wilma, once a Wycliffe,all whitebluerose below his ...
I am an announcement of the great Urge.I am an enactor of its agonies and joys.I am an inheritant of ...
I am no longer afraid of acknowledgement.I have walked surely with a staff of doubt,Confident of my sureness!But that was ...
Prayer is pregnant of desire,As man uttereth it. To me,Prayer is a simple announcementOf companionship with God;An acknowledgement of my ...
Dear Morris--here is your letter--Can my answer reach you now?Fate has left me your debtor,You will remember how;For I went ...
I will bring fire to thee.Euripides.-'Androm'.'Eiros'.Why do you call me Eiros?'Charmion'.So henceforward will you always be called. You must forget,too, ...
SEE his black nose snubbed back, pressed over like a whale's blow-holes,As if his nostrils were going to curve ...
The light fell from the window and the day was doneAnother day of thinking and distractionsLove wrapped in its wings ...
Sweet was the scene. The spreading dolichos Extended far, down to the valley's depths, With leaves luxuriant. The orioles Fluttered ...
You might come here Sunday on a whim. Say your life broke down. The last good kiss you had was ...
I wonder about the people standing in the water dripping on the shore of the Jordan River The disciples of ...
Unlike any birth announcement the world had ever known the first to be told the shepherds in the fields Not ...
The words of the Magi revealed in scripture the announcement of our King a shift in power the stones moving ...
To the Lord's table all welcome to come no impediment lifted not litmus test given all are welcome at the ...
In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel ...
For more than a billion years we've been nearly out of water; sincerely, a need repeatedly exposed in calamitous reports ...
I. You're my friend: I was the man the Duke spoke to; I helped the Duchess to cast off his ...
Something strange is creeping across me. La Celestina has only to warble the first few bars Of "I Thought about ...
Good-by to you whom I shall see tomorrow, Next year and when I'm fifty; still good-by. This is the leave ...
My mouth hovers across your breasts in the short grey winter afternoon in this bed we are delicate and touch ...
This morning, between two branches of a tree Beside the door, epeira once again Has spun and signed his tapestry ...
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