Jean Toomer

(26 December 1894 – 30 March 1967 / Washington D.C.)

Jean Toomer Poems

1. A Poem From Transatlantic 5/14/2012
2. Banking Coal 12/26/2011
3. Storm Ending 12/26/2011
4. Seventh Street 12/26/2011
5. For M.W. 1/3/2003
6. Georgia Dusk 1/3/2003
7. Portrait In Georgia 1/20/2003
8. Harvest Song 1/3/2003
9. Conversion 1/3/2003
10. Song Of The Son 1/3/2003
11. Tell Me 1/3/2003
12. November Cotton Flower 1/13/2003
13. The Lost Dancer 1/3/2003
14. Evening Song 1/3/2003
15. Her Lips Are Copper Wire 1/3/2003
16. Unsuspecting 1/3/2003
17. A Portrait In Georgia 1/3/2003
18. Cotton Song 1/3/2003
19. Reapers 1/3/2003
20. A Certain Man 1/3/2003
21. People 1/3/2003

Comments about Jean Toomer

  • Lamont Palmer (2/19/2006 7:35:00 AM)

    Largely obscure now, but a very fine poet in his day.

    40 person liked.
    19 person did not like.
Best Poem of Jean Toomer


To those fixed on white,
White is white,
To those fixed on black,
It is the same,
And red is red,
Yellow, yellow-
Surely there are such sights
In the many colored world,
Or in the mind.
The strange thing is that
These people never see themselves
Or you, or me.

Are they not in their minds?
Are we not in the world?
This is a curious blindness
For those that are color blind.
What queer beliefs
That men who believe in sights
Disbelieve in seers.

O people, if you but used
Your other eyes
You would see beings.

Read the full of People

Georgia Dusk

The sky, lazily disdaining to pursue
The setting sun, too indolent to hold
A lengthened tournament for flashing gold,
Passively darkens for night's barbeque,

A feast of moon and men and barking hounds.
An orgy for some genius of the South
With blood-hot eyes and cane-lipped scented mouth,
Surprised in making folk-songs from soul sounds.

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