black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

As you get older, you find that often the wheat, disentangling itself from the chaff, comes out to meet you.

Gwendolyn Brooks

With melted opals for my milk, Pearl-leaf for my cracker.
GWENDOLYN BROOKS

Milk Myself
I felt that I had to write. Even if I had never been published, I knew that I would go on writing, enjoying it and experiencing the challenge.
GWENDOLYN BROOKS

Challenge Enjoyment Experience Feeling Publish Writing
Beware the easy griefs / that fool and fuel nothing.
GWENDOLYN BROOKS

Easy Fools Fuel Grief
This is the urgency: Live! and have your blooming in the noise of the whirlwind.
GWENDOLYN BROOKS

Live Noise Urgent World Yourself
There are no magics or elves or timely godmothers to guide us. We are lost, must wizard a track through our own screaming weed.
GWENDOLYN BROOKS

Guide Lost Magic Scream Time
When white and black meet today, sometimes there is a ready understanding that there has been an encounter between two human beings. But often there is only, or chiefly, an awareness that Two Colors are in the room.
GWENDOLYN BROOKS

Black Color Human Room Understand White
Life for my child is simple, and is good.
GWENDOLYN BROOKS

Children Goodness Life Simplicity
Exhaust the little moment soon it dies.
GWENDOLYN BROOKS

Death Moments Time
I am a writer perhaps because I am not a talker.
GWENDOLYN BROOKS

Myself Talk Writing
I tell poets that when a line just floats into your head, don’t pay attention ’cause it probably has floated into somebody else’s head.
GWENDOLYN BROOKS

Attention Float Head Poet Yourself
Books are meat and medicine and flame and flight and flower steel, stitch, cloud and clout, and drumbeats on the air.
GWENDOLYN BROOKS

Air Book Flame Flower Medicine
Art hurts. Art urges voyages – and it is easier to stay at home.
GWENDOLYN BROOKS

Art Easy Home Hurt Stay
The forties and fifties were years of high poet-incense; the language-flowers were thickly sweet. Those flowers whined and begged white folks to pick them, to find them lovable. Then the ’60s: Independent fire!
GWENDOLYN BROOKS

Fire Flower Independent Language Poet Sweet
We are each other’s harvest; we are each other’s business; we are each other’s magnitude and bond.
GWENDOLYN BROOKS

Bond Business Each Other Friendship Relationship
We real cool. We Left school. We Lurk late. We Strike straight. We Sing sin. We Thin gin. We Jazz June. We Die soon.
GWENDOLYN BROOKS

Cool Death Reality Sing
Already I am no longer looked at with lechery or love.
GWENDOLYN BROOKS

Love Myself See Sight

As you get older, you find that often the wheat, disentangling itself from the chaff, comes out to meet you.

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As you get older, you find that often the wheat, disentangling itself from the chaff, comes out to meet you.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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