Countee Cullen

(30 May 1903 – 9 January 1946 / New York)

Comments about Countee Cullen

  • Don''t be Scared (5/20/2019 1:24:00 PM)

    LOL- -only if those old English men knew that a black girl would bring a black seed closer to the crown. Them racist bastards would keel over! History is funny.

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  • Caca Man (5/20/2019 1:22:00 PM)

    I like to talk about, think about, take big poops, and think about girls pooping. I won't eat your though.

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  • godpro (5/6/2019 11:08:00 PM)

    l like it the n word

    1 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • Benjamin Bonano (4/9/2019 12:33:00 PM)

    I cut my bbc on the miter saw

    5 person liked.
    4 person did not like.
  • hamn hamn (4/9/2019 12:31:00 PM)

    hamn hamn hamn hamn

    1 person liked.
    3 person did not like.
  • Ngger BIIGGER ONANO (4/9/2019 12:30:00 PM)

    bbc bonano hamn THIS TTRASH ASF

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  • Struggling child (3/11/2019 11:08:00 AM)

    Can someone els do my research project....PUZZY

    1 person liked.
    3 person did not like.
  • Puzzy destroyer 9000 (3/8/2019 9:17:00 AM)

    my puzzy hurts AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

    2 person liked.
    5 person did not like.
  • Jacob Powell (2/28/2019 2:27:00 PM)

    I am gay and I like to suck and slobber on veiny, especially my boyfriends.

    3 person liked.
    13 person did not like.
  • Jacob Powell (2/28/2019 2:26:00 PM)

    big peepee see big peepee do. I go to homestead high school in Mequon Wisconsin.

    2 person liked.
    11 person did not like.
Best Poem of Countee Cullen

Incident

Once riding in old Baltimore,
Heart-filled, head-filled with glee,
I saw a Baltimorean
Keep looking straight at me.

Now I was eight and very small,
And he was no whit bigger,
And so I smiled, but he poked out
His tongue, and called me, 'Nigger.'

I saw the whole of Baltimore
From May until December;
Of all the things that happened there
That's all that I remember.

Read the full of Incident

Yet Do I Marvel

I doubt not God is good, well-meaning, kind
And did He stoop to quibble could tell why
The little buried mole continues blind,
Why flesh that mirrors Him must some day die,
Make plain the reason tortured Tantalus
Is baited by the fickle fruit, declare
If merely brute caprice dooms Sisyphus
To struggle up a never-ending stair.
Inscrutable His ways are, and immune

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