Gwendolyn Brooks

Gwendolyn Brooks

74 карма
Gwendolyn Elizabeth Brooks (June 7, 1917 – December 3, 2000) was an American poet, author, and teacher. Her work often dealt with the personal celebrations and struggles of ordinary people in her community. She won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry on May 1, 1950, for Annie Allen, making her the first African American to receive a Pulitzer Prize.
Все работыПоиск

от·
of the furious
Who take Today and jerk it out of joint
have made new underpinnings and a Head.
Blacktime is time for chimeful
Читать дальше

от·
—And when you have forgotten the bright bedclothes on a Wednesday and a Saturday,
And most especially when you have forgotten Sunday—
When you have forgotten Sunday halves in bed,
Or me sitting on the front-room radiator in the limp...
Читать дальше

от·
Ryfma award iconВыбор редакции
The Pool Players.
Seven at the Golden Shovel.
We real cool. We
Left school. We
We Real Cool
Читать дальше

от·
Mrs. Coley’s three-flat brick
Isn’t here any more.
All done with seeing her fat little form
Burst out of the basement door;
Читать дальше

от·
And if sun comes
How shall we greet him?
Shall we not dread him,
Shall we not fear him
Читать дальше

от·
Phoenix
“In Egyptian mythology, a bird
which lived for five hundred
years and then consumed itself
Читать дальше

от·
Kathleen Eileen
Already I am no longer looked at with lechery or love.
My daughters and sons have put me away with marbles and dolls,
Are gone from the house.
Читать дальше

от·
Inamoratas, with an approbation,
Bestowed his title. Blessed his inclination.
He wakes, unwinds, elaborately: a cat
Tawny, reluctant, royal. He is fat
Читать дальше

от·
I’ve stayed in the front yard all my life.
I want a peek at the back
Where it’s rough and untended and hungry weed grows.
A girl gets sick of a rose.
Читать дальше

от·
“The fact that we are black
is our ultimate reality.”
—Ron Karenga
And several strengths from drowsiness campaigned
Читать дальше

от·
Maud went to college.
Sadie stayed at home.
Sadie scraped life
With a fine-tooth comb.
Читать дальше

от·
Carried her unprotesting out the door.
Kicked back the casket-stand. But it can't hold her,
That stuff and satin aiming to enfold her,
The lid's contrition nor the bolts before.
Читать дальше

от·
A riot is the language of the unheard.
—martin luther king
John Cabot, out of Wilma, once a Wycliffe,
all whitebluerose below his golden hair,
Читать дальше

от·
Blackness
is a title,
is a preoccupation,
is a commitment Blacks
Читать дальше

от·
For Reverend Theodore Richardson
If Mary came would Mary
Forgive, as Mothers may,
And sad and second Saviour
Читать дальше

от·
There is a little lightning in his eyes.
Iron at the mouth.
His brows ride neither too far up nor down.
He is splendid. With a place to stand.
Читать дальше
Показать больше