I Am Gonna Write Poems Til I

I Hit My Head Against The Wall Because I Don't Want To Know All The Terrible Things That I Know About. I Don't Want To Feel All These Wretched Things, But They're In Me Already. If I Don't Get Rid Of Them, I'm Not Ever Going To Feel Anything Else.

I Am Gonna Write Poems Til I Die And When I Have Gotten Outta This Body I Am Gonna Hang Round In The Wind And Knock Over Everybody Who Got Their Feet On The Ground.

I'm Committed To The Idea That One Of The Few Things Human Beings Have To Offer Is The Richness Of Unconscious And Conscious Emotional Responses To Being Alive. ... The Kind Of Esteem That's Given To Brightness/smartness Obliterates Average People Or Slow Learners From Participating Fully In Human Life, Particularly Technical And Intellectual Life. But You Cannot Exclude Any Human Being From Emotional Participation.

And This Is For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide, But Are Moving To The Ends Of Their Own Rainbows.

Where There Is A Woman There Is Magic. If There Is A Moon Falling From Her Mouth, She Is A Woman Who Knows Her Magic, Who Can Share Or Not Share Her Powers. A Woman With A Moon Falling From Her Mouth, Roses Between Her Legs And Tiaras Of Spanish Moss, This Woman Is A Consort Of The Spirits.