Countee Cullen

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

Harlem Wine - Poem by Countee Cullen

This is not water running here,
These thick rebellious streams
That hurtle flesh and bone past fear
Down alleyways of dreams

This is a wine that must flow on
Not caring how or where
So it has ways to flow upon
Where song is in the air.

So it can woo an artful flute
With loose elastic lips
Its measurements of joy compute
With blithe, ecstatic hips.


Comments about Harlem Wine by Countee Cullen

  • Michael Walker (9/7/2019 8:37:00 PM)

    Wine will always flow, bringing temporary joy at least. A joy I now reject. (Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
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  • (5/8/2019 4:18:00 PM)

    these poems are dark AF (Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
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  • (6/20/2015 8:26:00 PM)

    Seduction, Lure of the speakeasy, the underground intoxication of sweat, tears and forbidded sex...your thoughts (Report)Reply

    2 person liked.
    3 person did not like.
  • (5/24/2013 7:01:00 AM)

    countee's my nigga forreal (Report)Reply

    9 person liked.
    4 person did not like.
Read all 4 comments »



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Poem Submitted: Monday, March 29, 2010



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