Liberian Literary Magazine
Promoting Liberian literature, Arts and Culture
Gifts of the Masters
I reckon, as I count my woes,
They're 'bout what everybody knows.
In this segment, we run poems from twenty of
the greatest poets that ever lived.
The day I find a man who'll say
He's never known a rainy day,
Who'll raise his right hand up an' swear
In forty years he's had no care,
Has never had a single blow,
An' never known one touch o' woe,
Has never seen a loved one die,
Has never wept or heaved a sigh,
Has never had a plan go wrong,
But allas laughed his way along;
Then I'll sit down an' start to whine
That all the hard luck here is mine.
GWENDOLYN BROOKS
We Real Cool
The Pool Players.
Seven at the Golden Shovel.
We real cool. We
Left school. We
Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We
EMILY DICKINSON
Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We
Hope Is The Thing With Feathers
Jazz June. We
Die soon.
'Hope' is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—
EDGAR ALBERT GUEST
And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm—
Hard Luck
I've heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.
Ain't no use as I can see