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For the portrait of an African boy after the manner of
Gauguin
All the tom-toms of the jungles beat in my blood.
And all the wild hot moons of the jungles shine in my
soul.
I am afraid of this civilization—
So hard,
So strong,
So cold.
This poem is in the public domain.
Droning a drowsy syncopated tune,
Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon,
I heard a Negro play.
Down on Lenox Avenue the other night
By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light
He did a lazy sway . . .
He did a lazy sway . . .
To the tune o’ those Weary Blues.
The instructor said,
Go home and write
a page tonight.
And let that page come out of you—
Then, it will be true.
I've known rivers:
I've known rivers ancient as the world and older than the
flow of human blood in human veins.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.