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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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

Gwendolyn Brooks Quotes

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Comments about Gwendolyn Brooks

  • Thekingstings: “we are each other's harvest; we are each other's business; we are each other's magnitude and bond.” - gwendolyn brooks
  • Poetnotrockstar: “writing is a delicious agony.” — gwendolyn brooks
  • Wallelawal: ‘remember green’s your color. you are spring.’ — gwendolyn brooks. to the young who want to die.
  • Angelinareads: i remember bertram stating the use of computation to create a lexicon to reproduce gwendolyn brooks’ poetry. this deeply ancestry work opened me up to the use of dh as a way to preserve our memory of brooks
  • Angelinareads: yvonne-bertram reminded us that the very funded tech companies will use dh as a way to reproduce the poetry of writers whose importance has never been denied. “we need more gwendolyn brooks in the world” bertram stated -- and we sure do.
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Poem of the day

William Butler Yeats Poem
The Wild Old Wicked Man
 by William Butler Yeats

Because I am mad about women
I am mad about the hills,'
Said that wild old wicked man
Who travels where God wills.
'Not to die on the straw at home.
Those hands to close these eyes,
That is all I ask, my dear,
From the old man in the skies.

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