African American Poets

Neat, Know I never read that anthology. But I do love the Music that many African American Artists have made with their poetry. Just awesome to me. - DNatureofDTrain

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First of all I'm not into poetry although I have a fondness for the classical American poetry of the 18th and 19th century. The only African American poet who comes to mind is the one who read her poetry at one of the presidential inauguration....but cant for the life remember which one....I think it was Clinton's but dont hold it to me. I have read some Angolan poetry (in Portuguese) loaned to me by an Angolan friend but it really did't get to me. Portugal is a country of poets, including immigrants from Mozambique, Angola, Cabo Verde, Guinea Bissau. I think next to soccer it is the most popular topic. Everyone is a poet.

If by Rudyard Kipling If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too: If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; If you can dream---and not make dreams your master; If you can think---and not make thoughts your aim, If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same:. If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings, And never breathe a word about your loss: If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!" If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much: If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And---which is more---you'll be a Man, my son!