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 the Pulitzer.

Throughout her prolific writing career, Brooks received many more honors. She was appointed Poet Laureate of Illinois in 1968, a position she held until her death, and what is now the Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress for the 1985–86 term. In 1976, she became the first African-American woman inducted into the American Academy of Arts and Letters.

Brooks was born in Topeka, Kansas and at six-weeks...
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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

  • Illuminatemics: does anyone know where i can find a pdf of young poets primer by gwendolyn brooks?
  • Big_gator21: even if you are not ready for day it cannot always be night. gwendolyn brooks
  • Bishophays: you realize there is poem on the album on praise god, kanyes mom is literally reciting a gwendolyn brooks poem lauryn hill & syleena johnson both on the album... 2 "classy" ogs he literally gave you wanted ...yet you arent happy lol beggers cant be choosers this aint chipotle
  • Melissalaveaux: but it also, quoted gwendolyn brooks. a quote i’d only heard yesterday in a podcast in conversation b/w helga davis and elizabeth alexander, minutes before starting “pet”. “we are each others’ harvest, we are each others’ business, we are each other’s magnitude and bond”
  • Poem2poem: a sunset's mounded cloud; / a diamond evening-star; - gwendolyn brooks
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Poem of the day

Boris Pasternak Poem
The Garden Scatters Burnt-Up Beetles...
 by Boris Pasternak

The garden scatters burnt-up beetles
Like brazen ash, from braziers burst.
I witness, by my lighted candle,
A newly blossomed universe.

And like a not yet known religion
I enter this unheard of night,
In which the shabbily-grey poplar

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