Claude McKay

(15 September 1889 – 22 May 1948 / Clarendon)

The White House - Poem by Claude McKay

Your door is shut against my tightened face,
And I am sharp as steel with discontent;
But I possess the courage and the grace
To bear my anger proudly and unbent.
The pavement slabs burn loose beneath my feet,
A chafing savage, down the decent street;
And passion rends my vitals as I pass,
Where boldly shines your shuttered door of glass.
Oh, I must search for wisdom every hour,
Deep in my wrathful bosom sore and raw,
And find in it the superhuman power
To hold me to the letter of your law!
Oh, I must keep my heart inviolate
Against the potent poison of your hate.


Comments about The White House by Claude McKay

  • Ahmed Gumaa Siddiek Ahmed Gumaa Siddiek (2/5/2016 5:26:00 AM)

    Your door is shut against my tightened face,
    And I am sharp as steel with discontent;
    But I possess the courage and the grace
    To bear my anger proudly and unbent.

    So history has changed that the master of the White House is one of the black minority and the First Lady is a Black Lady. How do you feel now McKay? You need to write about this historical Monet in the American History. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: courage, anger, passion, hate, power, house, heart



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 20, 2003



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