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. For M.W. 1/3/2003
5. Portrait In Georgia 1/20/2003
6. Harvest Song 1/3/2003
7. Georgia Dusk 1/3/2003
8. Conversion 1/3/2003
9. Song Of The Son 1/3/2003
10. November Cotton Flower 1/13/2003
11. Tell Me 1/3/2003
12. The Lost Dancer 1/3/2003
13. Evening Song 1/3/2003
14. Cotton Song 1/3/2003
15. Unsuspecting 1/3/2003
16. Reapers 1/3/2003
17. A Portrait In Georgia 1/3/2003
18. A Certain Man 1/3/2003
19. Her Lips Are Copper Wire 1/3/2003
20. People 1/3/2003

Comments about Jean Toomer

  • yeet 2.0 (5/25/2018 11:08:00 AM)

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    3 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • Yo Mom (3/2/2018 8:46:00 AM)

    Why video, could be text

  • gaylord123 (2/26/2018 9:05:00 AM)

    jean toomer looks like hitler...

  • Jean Toomer (2/12/2018 11:40:00 AM)

    all y'all nerds aint got nothin right about my life

  • Yesss (2/8/2018 1:16:00 PM)

    Yesssssssssssssssssssss𝓈ssşs𝓈ssşs𝓈sŞ𝔰sşss

  • nopee (1/11/2018 1:28:00 PM)

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

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

Best Poem of Jean Toomer

People

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

Her Lips Are Copper Wire

whisper of yellow globes
gleaming on lamp-posts that sway
like bootleg licker drinkers in the fog

and let your breath be moist against me
like bright beads on yellow globes

telephone the power-house
that the main wires are insulate

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