The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.

Category Poets

Mississippi

Oh, what sorrow!Oh, what pity!Oh, what painThat tears and bloodShould mix like rainAnd terror come againTo Mississippi. Again?Where has terror been?On vacation? Up North?In some other sectionOf the Nation,Lying low, unpublicized,Masked—with onlyJaundiced eyes showingThrough the mask? What sorrow, pity, pain,That…

The Thorn

Now there will be nobody, you say, To start a cause célèbre,To snatch a brand from the burning, Or be a thorn in the side. You must be forgetting The cause not yet célèbre, The brand that’s in the burning,…

Little Song on Housing

Here I come!Been saving all my life To get a nice home For me and my wife. White folks flee— As soon as you see My problems And me!Neighborhood’s clean,But the house is old,Prices are doubledWhen I get sold:Still I…

In Explanation of Our Times

The folks with no titles in front of their names all over the worldare raring up and talking backto the folks called Mister. You say you thought everybody was called Mister? No, son, not everybody.In Dixie, often they won’t call…

Mean Old Yesterday

That mean old yesterdayKeeps on following me.The things I’ve said and doneHaunt me like a misery. What I did last year—How come it matters still today?The snow that fell last winter’sMelted away. I thought you’d done forgottenWhat happened way last…

Georgia Dusk

Sometimes there’s a wind in the Georgia duskThat cries and cries and criesIts lonely pity through the Georgia duskVeiling what the darkness hides. Sometimes there’s blood in the Georgia dusk,Left by a streak of sun,A crimson trickle in the Georgia…

Delinquent

Little JulieHas grown quite tall.Folks say she don’t likeTo stay home at all. Little JulieHas grown quite stout.Folks say it’s not justStomach sticking out. Little JulieHas grown quite wise—A tiger, a lion, and an owlIn her eyes. Little JulieSays she…

Miss Blues’es Child

If the blues would let me,Lord knows I would smile.If the blues would let me,I would smile, smile, smile.Instead of that I’m cryin’—I must be Miss Blues’es child. You were my moon up in the sky,At night my wishing star.I…