For poems are like rainbows; they escape you quickly.
Oh, God of Dust and Rainbows, Help us to see That without the dust the rainbow Would not be.
We younger Negro artists who create now intend to express our individual dark-skinned selves without fear or shame. If white people are pleased we are glad. If they aren?t it doesn?t matter.
Keep your hand on the plow. Hold on.
Gather up In the arms of your love—Those who expect No love from above.
I did not believe political directives could be successfully applied to creative writing . . . not to poetry or fiction, which to be valid had to express as truthfully as possible the individual emotions and reactions of the writer.