Who is Gwendolyn Brooks

Gwendolyn Elizabeth Brooks (June 7, 1917 – December 3, 2000) was an American poet, author, and teacher. Her work often dealt with the personal celebrations and struggles of ordinary people in her community. She won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry on May 1, 1950, for Annie Allen, making her the first African American to receive a Pulitzer Prize.Throughout her prolific writing career, Brooks received many more honors. A lifelong resident of Chicago, she was appointed Poet Laureate of Illinois in 1968, a position she held until her death 32 years later. She was also named the U.S. Poet Laureate for the 1985–86 term. In 1976, she became the first African American woman inducted into the American Academy of Arts and Letters.

Early life

Gwendolyn Elizabeth Brooks was ...
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Gwendolyn Brooks Poems

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Top 10 most used topics by Gwendolyn Brooks

I Love You 15 Love 15 Black 10 Time 10 Sweet 9 Never 8 Home 8 Door 8 Night 8 Sun 7


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Comments about Gwendolyn Brooks

0xbey: "poetry is life distilled." - gwendolyn brooks
Brainpickings: “wherever life can grow, it will. it will sprout out, and do the best it can.” remembering gwendolyn brooks, who left us 22 years ago today, with her wisdom on vulnerability as strength and her advice to writers
Brainpicker: “wherever life can grow, it will. it will sprout out, and do the best it can.” remembering gwendolyn brooks, who left us 22 years ago today, with her wisdom on vulnerability as strength and her advice to writers
Liuliu0421_: "we are each other’s harvest: we are each other’s business: we are each other’s magnitude and bond. — gwendolyn brooks, “paul robeson”
Chitaskforce: "we are each other’s harvest: we are each other’s business: we are each other’s magnitude and bond. — gwendolyn brooks, “paul robeson”
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Poem of the day

Robert Service Poem
The Three Bares
 by Robert Service

Ma tried to wash her garden slacks but couldn't get 'em clean
And so she thought she'd soak 'em in a bucket o' benzine.
It worked all right. She wrung 'em out then wondered what she'd do
With all that bucket load of high explosive residue.
She knew that it was dangerous to scatter it around,
For Grandpa liked to throw his lighted matches on the ground.
Somehow she didn't dare to pour it down the kitchen sink,
And what the heck to do with it, poor Ma jest couldn't think.
...

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