April Is National Poetry Month 

This poem was first published in The Survey Graphic Magazine on March 1, 1925. It also appeared in The New Negro Magazine entitled “Epilogue.”

I, Too

I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.

They send me to eat in the kitchen

When company comes,

But I laugh,

And eat well,

And grow strong.

Tomorrow,

I'll be at the table

When Company comes.

Nobody'll dare

Say to me,

“Eat in the kitchen,”

Then.

Besides,

They'll see how beautiful I am

And be ashamed--

I, too, am America.

 April Is National Poetry Month 

Originally entitled “Dream Variation,” this poem first appeared in The Crisis Magazine in July 1924.

 Dream variations

To fling my arms wide

In some place of the sun,

To whirl and to dance

Till the white day is done.

Then rest at cool evening

Beneath a tall tree

While night comes on gently,

Dark like me--

That is my dream!

To fling my arms wide

In the face of the sun,

Dance! Whirl! Whirl!

Till the quick day is done.

Rest at pale evening...

A tall, slim tree...

Night coming tenderly

Black like me.

 April Is National Poetry Month 

First published as “Poem” in The Crisis Magazine in May 1923.

My People

The night is beautiful,

So the faces of my people.

The stars are beautiful,

So the eyes of my people.

Beautiful, also, is the sun.

Beautiful, also, are the souls of my people.

 April Is National Poetry Month 

This Poem was first published in The World Tomorrow Magazine in May 1923.

Dreams

Hold fast to dreams

For if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged bird

That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams

For when dreams go

Life is a barren field

Frozen with snow.

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 April Is National Poetry Month

"Monotony" was first published in The Crisis Magazine in May 1923.

Monotony

Today like yesterday

Tomorrow like today:

the drip, drip, drip,

Of monotony

Is wearing my life away;

Today like yesterday,

Tomorrow like today.

 April Is National Poetry Month

This Poem was first published in The Crisis Magazine in December 1922.

Mother to Son

Well, son, I'll tell you:

Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.

It's had tacks in it,

And splinters,

And boards torn up,

And places with no carpet on the floor--

Bare.

But all the time

I'se been a-climbin' on,

And reachin' landin's,

And turnin' corners,

And sometimes goin' in the dark

Where there ain't been no light.

So boy, don't you turn back.

Don't you set down on the steps

'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.

Don't you fall now--

For I'se still goin', honey,

I'se still climbin',

And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.