- ALTHOUGH she feeds me bread of bitterness,
- And sinks into my throat her tiger's tooth,
- Stealing my breath of life, I will confess
- I love this cultured hell that tests my youth!
- Her vigor flows like tides into my blood,
- Giving me strength erect against her hate.
- Her bigness sweeps my being like a flood.
- Yet as a rebel fronts a king in state,
- I stand within her walls with not a shred
- Of terror, malice, not a word of jeer.
- Darkly I gaze into the days ahead,
- And see her might and granite wonders there,
- Beneath the touch of Time's unerring hand,
- Like priceless treasures sinking in the sand.
Monday, January 19, 2009
I'm doing some research into African-American poetry. I found this poem, "America" - by Claude McKay [1889-1948]. I think it's quite powerful.