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Showing posts from January, 2021

Poem #31: The Haunted Oak by Paul Laurence Dunbar

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Estimated Reading Time:  5.5 minutes Title :  The Haunted Oak Author :  Paul Laurence Dunbar Source :   African-American Poetry: An Anthology, 1773-1927 . Dover Thrift Editions. Ed. Joan R. Sherman. 1997. ISBN:  978-0-486-29604-3. Link : You can find  this poem on this website . Poem Pray why are you so bare, so bare,    Oh, bough of the old oak-tree; And why, when I go through the shade you throw,    Runs a shudder over me? My leaves were green as the best, I trow,    And sap ran free in my veins, But I saw in the moonlight dim and weird    A guiltless victim's pains. I bent me down to hear his sigh;    I shook with his gurgling moan, And I trembled sore when they rode away,    And left him here alone. They'd charged him with the old, old crime,    And set him fast in jail: Oh, why does the dog howl all night long,    And why does the night wind wail? He prayed his prayer and he swore his oath,    And he raised his hand to the sky; But the beat of hoofs smote on his ear,    An

Poem #30: When Malindy Sings by Paul Laurence Dunbar

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Estimated Reading Time:  4.5 minutes Title :  When Malindy Sings Author :  Paul Laurence Dunbar Source :   African-American Poetry: An Anthology, 1773-1927 . Dover Thrift Editions. Ed. Joan R. Sherman. 1997. ISBN:  978-0-486-29604-3. Link : You can find  this poem on this website . Poem G'way an' quit dat noise, Miss Lucy—    Put dat music book away; What's de use to keep on tryin'?    Ef you practise twell you're gray, You cain't sta't no notes a-flyin'    Lak de ones dat rants and rings F'om de kitchen to de big woods    When Malindy sings. You ain't got de nachel o'gans    Fu' to make de soun' come right, You ain't got de tu'ns an' twistin's    Fu' to make it sweet an' light. Tell you one thing now, Miss Lucy,    An' I 'm tellin' you fu' true, When hit comes to raal right singin',    'T ain't no easy thing to do. Easy 'nough fu' folks to hollah,    Lookin' at de lines

Poem #29: We Wear the Mask by Paul Laurence Dunbar

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Estimated Reading Time: 4 minutes Title :  We Wear the Mask Author :  Paul Laurence Dunbar Source :   African-American Poetry: An Anthology, 1773-1927 . Dover Thrift Editions. Ed. Joan R. Sherman. 1997. ISBN:  978-0-486-29604-3. Link : You can find  this poem on this website . Poem We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,— This debt we pay to human guile; With torn and bleeding hearts we smile, And mouth with myriad subtleties. Why should the world be over-wise, In counting all our tears and sighs? Nay, let them only see us, while        We wear the mask. We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries To thee from tortured souls arise. We sing, but oh the clay is vile Beneath our feet, and long the mile; But let the world dream otherwise,        We wear the mask! Reflection For me, when I think of Dunbar, it's this poem that comes to mind. Published in 1896, it came out in the same year as the Plessy v. Ferguson decision by the Supreme Court, which l

Review: The Fire Is Upon Us: James Baldwin, William F. Buckley Jr., and the Debate Over Race in America

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The Fire Is Upon Us: James Baldwin, William F. Buckley Jr., and the Debate Over Race in America by Nicholas Buccola My rating: 5 of 5 stars Focusing on James Baldwin and William F. Buckley Jr. as the iconic leaders of different parts of American cultures, Buccola uses their literal public debate at the University of Cambridge as the fulcrum to explore the biographies and ideologies of these two very different men. He traces out the way that white supremacy has dominated the discourse of Buckley's work while Baldwin's sought out an anti-racist ideal wherein healing for both victims and perpetrators of racism could create an American Dream that did not come at the cost of African American freedoms and rights. Buccola moves back and forth between both men as he explores the differences in their upbringing, their intellectual challenges, and mentors, as well as their increasingly successful receptions by different parts of the US and global audiences. In tracking

Poem #28: Sympathy by Paul Laurence Dunbar

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Estimated Reading Time: 3 minutes Title :  Sympathy Author :  Paul Laurence Dunbar Source :   African-American Poetry: An Anthology, 1773-1927 . Dover Thrift Editions. Ed. Joan R. Sherman. 1997. ISBN:  978-0-486-29604-3. Link : You can find  this poem on this website . Poem I know what the caged bird feels, alas!     When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;    When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass,    And the river flows like a stream of glass;     When the first bird sings and the first bud opes,    And the faint perfume from its chalice steals— I know what the caged bird feels! I know why the caged bird beats his wing     Till its blood is red on the cruel bars;    For he must fly back to his perch and cling    When he fain would be on the bough a-swing;     And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars    And they pulse again with a keener sting— I know why he beats his wing! I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,     When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,—

Poem #27: The Muse's Favor by Priscilla Jane Thompson

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Estimated Reading Time:  4.5 minutes Title :  The Muse's Favor Author :  Priscilla Jane Thompson Source :   African-American Poetry: An Anthology, 1773-1927 . Dover Thrift Editions. Ed. Joan R. Sherman. 1997. ISBN:  978-0-486-29604-3. Link : You can find  this poem on this website . Poem Oh Muse! I crave a favor, Grant but this one unto me; Thou hast always been indulgent, So I boldly come to thee. For oft I list thy singing, And the accents, sweet and clear, Like the rhythmic flow of waters, Falls on my ecstatic ear. But of Caucasia's daughters, So oft I've heard thy lay, That the music, too familiar, Falls in sheer monotony. And now, oh Muse exalted! Exchange this old song staid, For an equally deserving: — The oft slighted, Afric maid. The muse, with smiles, consenting, Runs her hand the strings along, And the harp, as bound by duty, Rings out with the tardy song. The Song Oh, foully slighted Ethiope maid! With patience, bearing rude upbraid, With sweet, refined, retirin

Poem #26: The White Witch by James Weldon Johnson

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Estimated Reading Time:  4 minutes Title :  The White Witch Author :  James Weldon Johnson Source :   African-American Poetry: An Anthology, 1773-1927 . Dover Thrift Editions. Ed. Joan R. Sherman. 1997. ISBN:  978-0-486-29604-3. Link : You can find  this poem on this website . Poem O brothers mine, take care! Take care! The great white witch rides out to-night. Trust not your prowess nor your strength, Your only safety lies in flight; For in her glance there is a snare, And in her smile there is a blight.     The great white witch you have not seen? Then, younger brothers mine, forsooth, Like nursery children you have looked For ancient hag and snaggle-tooth; But no, not so; the witch appears In all the glowing charms of youth.     Her lips are like carnations, red, Her face like new-born lilies, fair, Her eyes like ocean waters, blue, She moves with subtle grace and air, And all about her head there floats The golden glory of her hair.     But though she always thus appears In form of

Poem #25: O Black and Unknown Bards by James Weldon Johnson

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Estimated Reading Time: 4 minutes Title :  O Black and Unknown Bards Author :  James Weldon Johnson Source :   African-American Poetry: An Anthology, 1773-1927 . Dover Thrift Editions. Ed. Joan R. Sherman. 1997. ISBN:  978-0-486-29604-3. Link : You can find  this poem on this website . Poem O black and unknown bards of long ago, How came your lips to touch the sacred fire? How, in your darkness, did you come to know The power and beauty of the minstrel's lyre? Who first from midst his bonds lifted his eyes? Who first from out the still watch, lone and long, Feeling the ancient faith of prophets rise Within his dark-kept soul, burst into song?     Heart of what slave poured out such melody As "Steal away to Jesus"? On its strains His spirit must have nightly floated free, Though still about his hands he felt his chains. Who heard great "Jordan roll"? Whose starward eye Saw chariot "swing low"? And who was he That breathed that comforting, melodic sigh,

Poem #24: Lift Ev'ry Voice and Sing by James Weldon Johnson

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Estimated Reading Time: 3.5 minutes Title :  Lift Ev'ry Voice Author :  James Weldon Johnson Source :   African-American Poetry: An Anthology, 1773-1927 . Dover Thrift Editions. Ed. Joan R. Sherman. 1997. ISBN:  978-0-486-29604-3. Link : You can find  this poem on this website . Poem Lift every voice and sing    Till earth and heaven ring, Ring with the harmonies of Liberty; Let our rejoicing rise High as the listening skies, Let it resound loud as the rolling sea. Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us, Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us.    Facing the rising sun of our new day begun, Let us march on till victory is won. Stony the road we trod, Bitter the chastening rod, Felt in the days when hope unborn had died;    Yet with a steady beat, Have not our weary feet Come to the place for which our fathers sighed? We have come over a way that with tears has been watered, We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaught

Poem #23: At the Closed Gate of Justice by James David Corrothers

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Estimated Reading Time: 3 minutes Title :  At the Closed Gate of Justice Author :  James David Corrothers Source :   African-American Poetry: An Anthology, 1773-1927 . Dover Thrift Editions. Ed. Joan R. Sherman. 1997. ISBN:  978-0-486-29604-3. Link : You can find  this poem on this website . Poem To be a Negro in a day like this     Demands forgiveness. Bruised with blow on blow, Betrayed, like him whose woe dimmed eyes gave bliss     Still must one succor those who brought one low, To be a Negro in a day like this. To be a Negro in a day like this     Demands rare patience—patience that can wait In utter darkness. ’Tis the path to miss,     And knock, unheeded, at an iron gate, To be a Negro in a day like this. To be a Negro in a day like this     Demands strange loyalty. We serve a flag Which is to us white freedom’s emphasis.     Ah! one must love when Truth and Justice lag, To be a Negro in a day like this. To be a Negro in a day like this—     Alas! Lord God, what evil have we don