KWEE Liberian Literary Magazine Jan. Iss. Vol. 0115 Feb Vol. 0215 | Page 68

Liberian Literary Magazine February Issue 0215 I, Too, Sing America Patting their sleek bodies w ith their hands. "Well, maybe next time." And they rise, Glittering like pools of ink under moonlight, Langston Hughes I , too, sing America. And v anish. I clutch at the ragged holes They leav e behind, here at the edge of darkness. Night rests like a ball of fur on my tongue. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh, And eat w ell, And grow strong. Lift Every Voice and Sing Tomorrow , I 'll be at the table When company comes. Nobody'll dare Say to me, "Eat in the kitchen," Then. James Weldon Johnson Lift ev 'ry v oice and sing, Till earth and hea v en ring, Ring w ith the harmonies of Liberty; Let our rejoicing rise High as the list'ning 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 v ictory is w on. Besides, They'll see how beautiful I am And be ashamed-I , too, am America. Stony the road w e trod, Bitter the chast'ning rod, Felt in the days w hen hope unborn had died; Yet w ith a steady beat, Hav e not our w eary feet Come to the place for w hich our fathers sighed? We hav e come ov er a w ay that w ith tears has been w atered. We hav e come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered, Out from the gloomy past, Till now w e stand at last Where the w hite gleam of our bright star is cast. Adolescence II Rita Dove Although it is night, I sit in the bathroom, w aiting. Sw eat prickles behind my knees, the babybreasts are alert. Venetian blinds slice up the moon; the tiles quiv er in pale strips. Then they come, the three seal men w ith eyes as round As dinner plates and eyelashes like sharpened tines. They bring the scent of licorice. One sits in the w ashbow l, God of our w eary years, God of our silent tears, Thou w ho hast brought us thus far on the w ay; Thou w ho hast by Thy might, Led us into the light, Keep us forev er in the path, w e pray. One on the bathtub edge; one leans against the door. "Can you feel it yet?" they w hisper. I don't know w hat to say, again. They chuckle, 54