National Poetry Month: Day 10 and 11: Gwendolyn Brooks

Day 11 of National Poetry Month:

How many poems/songs have you written or read? I will admit, I need to double up one day because I missed writing a poem last night!

However, I want to post two of my favorite poems today for day 10 and 11 from Gwendolyn Brooks:

My Dreams, My Works, Must Wait Until After Hell

I hold my honey and I store my bread
In little jars and cabinets of my will. 
I label clearly, and each latch and lid
I bid, Be firm till I return from hell. 
I am very hungry. I am incomplete. 
And none can give me any word but Wait, 
The puny light. I keep my eyes pointed in; 
Hoping that, when the devil days of my hurt 
Drag out to their last dregs and I resume 
On such legs as are left me, in such heart 
As I can manage, remember to go home, 
My taste will not have turned insensitive 
To honey and bread old purity could love.

We Real Cool

The Pool Players. 
Seven at the Golden Shovel. 

We real cool. We 
Left school. 

We Lurk late. We 
Strike straight. We 

Sing sin. We 
Thin gin. We 

Jazz June. We 
Die soon.