A Collection of Classic African American Poetry: soulscript

MY PEOPLE by Langston HughesThe night is beautiful, So the faces of my people. The stars are beautiful, So the eyes of my people. Beautiful, also, is the sun.Beautiful, also, are the souls of my people. UNCLE BULL-BOY by June JordanHis brother after dinneronce a year would play the pianoshort and tough in white shirtplaid suspenders green tie andchecked trousers.Two teeth were gold. His eyeswere pink with alcohol. His fingersthumped for Auld Lang Syne.He played St. Louis WomanBoogie, Blues, the lightpedestrian. But one night after dinnerafter chitterlings and pigs' feetafter bourbon and rum and ryeafter turnip greens and mustard greensand sweet potato pieBullboy looking everywhererealized his brother was not there.Who would emphasize the luxuryof ice cream by the gallon who wouldrepeat effusively the glamour not the gallof five degrees outstanding on the wall?Which head would nod and then recallthe crimes the apples stolen from the stallsthe soft coal stolen by the pile?Who would admirethe eighteenth pair of fortydollar shoes?Who could extol their mother with goodbrandy as his muse?His brother dead from drinkingBullboy drank to clear his thinkingsaw the roach inside the riddle.Soon the bubbles from his glasswere the only bits of charmwhich overcame his folded arms.AMERICAN GOTHIC by Paul VeseyTo Satch(The legendary Satchel Page, one of the star pitchers in Negro baseball)Sometimes I feel like I will never stopJust go on foreverTil one fine mornin'I'm gonna reach up and grab me a handfulla starsSwing out my long lean legAnd whip three hot strikes burnin' down the heavensAnd look over at God and sayHow about that!