• Radical Reconciliation

    BHM2021 Black Poets: Countee Cullen (1903-1946)

    Heritage BY COUNTEE CULLEN (For Harold Jackman) What is Africa to me:Copper sun or scarlet sea,Jungle star or jungle track,Strong bronzed men, or regal blackWomen from whose loins I sprangWhen the birds of Eden sang?One three centuries removedFrom the scenes his fathers loved,Spicy grove, cinnamon tree,What is Africa to me? So I lie, who all day longWant no sound except the songSung by wild barbaric birdsGoading massive jungle herds,Juggernauts of flesh that passTrampling tall defiant grassWhere young forest lovers lie,Plighting troth beneath the sky.So I lie, who always hear,Though I cram against my earBoth my thumbs, and keep them there,Great drums throbbing through the air.So I lie, whose fount of pride,Dear…

  • Uncategorized

    BHM2021: Black Poets – Gwendolyn Brooks (1917- 2000)

    truth BY GWENDOLYN BROOKS And if sun comesHow shall we greet him?Shall we not dread him,Shall we not fear himAfter so lengthy aSession with shade? Though we have wept for him,Though we have prayedAll through the night-years—What if we wake one shimmering morning toHear the fierce hammeringOf his firm knucklesHard on the door? Shall we not shudder?—Shall we not fleeInto the shelter, the dear thick shelterOf the familiarPropitious haze? Sweet is it, sweet is itTo sleep in the coolnessOf snug unawareness. The dark hangs heavilyOver the eyes. Gwendolyn Brooks, “truth” from Blacks. Copyright © 1987 by Gwendolyn Brooks.