AFRO-AMERICAN FRAGMENTS Afro-American Fragment The Negro Speaks of Rivers Sun Song Aunt Sue's Stories Danse Africaine Negro American Heartbreak October 16 As I Grew Older My People Dream Variations FEET OF JESUS Feet o' Jesus Prayer Shout Fire Sunday Morning Prophecy Sinner Litany Angels Wings Judgment Day Prayer Meeting Spirituals Tambourines SHADOW OF THE BLUES The Weary Blues Hope Late Last Night Bad Morning Sylvester's Dying Bed Wake Could Be Bad Luck Card Reverie on the Harlem River Morning After Early Evening Quarrel Evil As Befits a Man SEA AND LAND Havana Dreams Catch Water-Front Streets Long Trip Seascape Moonlight Night: Carmel Heaven In Time of Silver Rain Joy Winter Moon Snail March Moon Harlem Night Song To Artina Fulfilment Gypsy Melodies Mexican Market Woman A Black Pierrot Ardella When Sue Wears Red Love Beale Street Port Town Natcha Young Sailor Sea Calm Dream Dust No Regrets Troubled Woman Island DISTANCE NOWHERE Border Line Garden Genius Child Strange Hurt Suicide's Note End Drum Personal Juliet Desire Vagabonds One Desert A House in Taos Demand Dream Night: Four Songs Luck Old Walt Kid in the Park Song for Billie Holiday Fantasy in Purple AFTER HOURS Midnight Raffle What? Gone Boy 50–50 Maybe Lover's Return Miss Blues'es Child Trumpet Player Monroe's Blues Stony Lonesome Black Maria LIFE IS FINE Life Is Fine Still Here Ballad of the Gypsy Me and the Mule Kid Sleepy Little Lyric Fired Midnight Dancer Blue Monday Ennui Mama and Daughter Delinquent S-sss-ss-sh! Homecoming Final Curve Little Green Tree Crossing Widow Woman LAMENT OVER LOVE Misery Ballad of the Fortune Teller Cora Down and Out Young Gal's Blues Ballad of the Girl Whose Name Is Mud Hard Daddy Midwinter Blues Little Old Letter Lament over Love MAGNOLIA FLOWERS Daybreak in Alabama Cross Magnolia Flowers Mulatto Southern Mammy Sings Ku Klux West Texas Share-Croppers Ruby Brown Roland Hayes Beaten Uncle Tom Porter Blue Bayou Silhouette Song for a Dark Girl The South Bound No'th Blues NAME IN UPHILL LETTERS One-Way Ticket Migrant Summer Evening Graduation Interne at Provident Railroad Avenue Mother to Son Stars To Be Somebody Note on Commercial Theatre Puzzled Seashore through Dark Glasses Baby Merry-Go-Round Elevator Boy Who But the Lord? Third Degree Ballad of the Man Who's Gone MADAM TO YOU Madam's Past History Madam and Her Madam Madam's Calling Cards Madam and the Rent Man Madam and the Number Writer Madam and the Phone Bill Madam and the Charity Child Madam and the Fortune Teller Madam and the Wrong Visitor Madam and the Minister Madam and Her Might-Have-Been Madam and the Census Man MONTAGE OF A DREAM DEFERRED Montage of a Dream Deferred WORDS LIKE FREEDOM I, Too Freedom Train Georgia Dusk Lunch in a Jim Crow Car In Explanation of Our Times Africa Democracy Consider Me The Negro Mother Refugee in America Freedom's Plow About the Author Other Books by This Author AFRO- AMERICAN FRAGMENTS Afro-American Fragment So long, So far away Is Africa. Not even memories alive Save those that history books create, Save those that songs Beat back into the blood-- Beat out of blood with words sad-sung In strange un-Negro tongue-- So long, So far away Is Africa. Subdued and time-lost Are the drums--and yet Through some vast mist of race There comes this song I do not understand, This song of atavistic land, Of bitter yearnings lost Without a place-- So long, So far away Is Africa's Dark face. The Negro Speaks of Rivers I've known rivers: I've known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow of human blood in human veins. My soul has grown deep like the rivers. I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young. I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep. I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it. I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln went down to New Orleans, and I've seen its muddy bosom turn all golden in the sunset. I've known rivers: Ancient, dusky rivers. My soul has grown deep like the rivers. Sun Song Sun and softness, Sun and the beaten hardness of the earth, Sun and the song of all the sun-stars Gathered together-- Dark ones of Africa, I bring you my songs To sing on the Georgia roads. Aunt Sue's Stories Aunt Sue has a head full of stories. Aunt Sue has a whole heart full of stories. Summer nights on the front porch Aunt Sue cuddles a brown-faced child to her bosom And tells him stories. Black slaves Working in the hot sun, And black slaves Walking in the dewy night, And black slaves Singing sorrow songs on the banks of a mighty river Mingle themselves softly In the flow of old Aunt Sue's voice, Mingle themselves softly In the dark shadows that cross and recross Aunt Sue's stories. And the dark-faced child, listening, Knows that Aunt Sue's stories are real stories. He knows that Aunt Sue never got her stories Out of any book at all, But that they came Right out of her own life. The dark-faced child is quiet Of a summer night Listening to Aunt Sue's stories. Danse Africaine The low beating of the tom-toms, The slow beating of the tom-toms, Low ... slow Slow ... low-- Stirs your blood. Dance! A night-veiled girl Whirls softly into a Circle of light. Whirls softly ... slowly, Like a wisp of smoke around the fire-- And the tom-toms beat, And the tom-toms beat, And the low beating of the tom-toms Stirs your blood. Negro I am a Negro: Black as the night is black, Black like the depths of my Africa. I've been a slave: Caesar told me to keep his door-steps clean. I brushed the boots of Washington. I've been a worker: Under my hand the pyramids arose. I made mortar for the Woolworth Building. I've been a singer: All the way from Africa to Georgia I carried my sorrow songs. I made ragtime. I've been a victim: The Belgians cut off my hands in the Congo. They lynch me still in Mississippi. I am a Negro: Black as the night is black, Black like the depths of my Africa. American Heartbreak I am the American heartbreak-- Rock on which Freedom Stumps its toe-- The great mistake That Jamestown Made long ago. October 16 Perhaps You will remember John Brown. John Brown Who took his gun, Took twenty-one companions White and black, Went to shoot your way to freedom Where two rivers meet And the hills of the North And the hills of the South Look slow at one another-- And died For your sake. Now that you are Many years free, And the echo of the Civil War Has passed away, And Brown himself Has long been tried at law, Hanged by the neck, And buried in the ground-- Since Harpers Ferry Is alive with ghosts today, Immortal raiders Come again to town-- Perhaps You will recall John Brown. As I Grew Older It was a long time ago. I have almost forgotten my dream. But it was there then, In front of me, Bright like a sun-- My dream. And then the wall rose, Rose slowly, Slowly, Between me and my dream. Rose slowly, slowly, Dimming, Hiding, The light of my dream. Rose until it touched the sky-- The wall. Shadow. I am black. I lie down in the shadow. No longer the light of my dream before me, Above me. Only the thick wall. Only the shadow. My hands! My dark hands! Break through the wall! Find my dream! Help me to shatter this darkness, To smash this night, To break this shadow Into a thousand lights of sun, Into a thousand whirling dreams Of sun! My People The night is beautiful, So the faces of my people. The stars are beautiful, So the eyes of my people. Beautiful, also, is the sun. Beautiful, also, are the souls of my people. Dream Variations To fling my arms wide In some place of the sun, To whirl and to dance Till the white day is done. Then rest at cool evening Beneath a tall tree While night comes on gently, Dark like me-- That is my dream! To fling my arms wide In the face of the sun, Dance! Whirl! Whirl! Till the quick day is done. Rest at pale evening ... A tall, slim tree ... Night coming tenderly Black like me. FEET OF JESUS Feet o' Jesus At the feet o' Jesus, Sorrow like a sea. Lordy, let yo' mercy Come driftin' down on me. At the feet o' Jesus At yo' feet I stand. O, ma little Jesus, Please reach out yo' hand. Prayer I ask you this: Which way to go? I ask you this: Which sin to bear? Which crown to put Upon my hair? I do not know, Lord God, I do not know. Shout Listen to yo' prophets, Little Jesus! Listen to yo' saints! Fire Fire, Fire, Lord! Fire gonna burn ma soul! I ain't been good, I ain't been clean-- I been stinkin', low-down, mean. Fire, Fire, Lord! Fire gonna burn ma soul! Tell me, brother, Do you believe If you wanta go to heaben Got to moan an' grieve? Fire, Fire, Lord! Fire gonna burn ma soul! I been stealin', Been tellin' lies, Had more women Than Pharaoh had wives. Fire, Fire, Lord! Fire gonna burn ma soul! I means Fire, Lord! Fire gonna burn ma soul! Sunday Morning Prophecy An old Negro minister concludes his sermon in his loudest voice, having previously pointed out the sins of this world: ... and now When the rumble of death Rushes down the drain Pipe of eternity, And hell breaks out Into a thousand smiles, And the devil licks his chops Preparing to feast on life, And all the little devils Get out their bibs To devour the corrupt bones Of this world-- Oh-ooo-oo-o! Then my friends! Oh, then! Oh, then! What will you do? You will turn back And look toward the mountains. You will turn back And grasp for a straw. You will holler, Lord-d-d-d-d-ah! Save me, Lord! Save me! And the Lord will say, In the days of your greatness I did not hear your voice! The Lord will say, In the days of your richness I did not see your face! The Lord will say, No-oooo-ooo-oo-o! I will not save you now! And your soul Will be lost! Come into the church this morning, Brothers and Sisters, And be saved-- And give freely In the collection basket That I who am thy shepherd Might live. Amen! Sinner Have mercy, Lord! Po' an' black An' humble an' lonesome An' a sinner in yo' sight. Have mercy, Lord! Litany Gather up In the arms of your pity The sick, the depraved, The desperate, the tired, All the scum Of our weary city Gather up In the arms of your pity. Gather up In the arms of your love-- Those who expect No love from above. Angels Wings The angels wings is white as snow, O, white as snow, White as snow. The angels wings is white as snow, But I drug ma wings In the dirty mire. O, I drug ma wings All through the fire. But the angels wings is white as snow, White as snow. Judgment Day They put ma body in the ground, Ma soul went flyin' o' the town, Went flyin' to the stars an' moon A-shoutin', God, I's comin' soon. O Jesus! Lord in heaven, Crown on His head, Says don't be 'fraid Cause you ain't dead. Kind Jesus! An' now I'm settin' clean an' bright In the sweet o' ma Lord's sight-- Clean an' bright, Clean an' bright. Prayer Meeting Glory! Hallelujah! The dawn's a-comin'! Glory! Hallelujah! The dawn's a-comin'! A black old woman croons In the amen-corner of the Ebecaneezer Baptist Church. A black old woman croons-- The dawn's a-comin'! Spirituals Rocks and the firm roots of trees. The rising shafts of mountains. Something strong to put my hands on. Sing, O Lord Jesus! Song is a strong thing. I heard my mother singing When life hurt her: Gonna ride in my chariot some day! The branches rise From the firm roots of trees. The mountains rise From the solid lap of earth. The waves rise From the dead weight of sea. Sing, O black mother! Song is a strong thing. Tambourines Tambourines! Tambourines! Tambourines To the glory of God! Tambourines To glory! A gospel shout And a gospel song: Life is short But God is long! Tambourines! Tambourines! Tambourines To glory! SHADOW OF THE BLUES The Weary Blues Droning a drowsy syncopated tune, Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon, I heard a Negro play. Down on Lenox Avenue the other night By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light He did a lazy sway.... He did a lazy sway.... To the tune o' those Weary Blues. With his ebony hands on each ivory key He made that poor piano moan with melody. O Blues! Swaying to and fro on his rickety stool He played that sad raggy tune like a musical fool. Sweet Blues! Coming from a black man's soul. O Blues! In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone I heard that Negro sing, that old piano moan-- "Ain't got nobody in all this world, Ain't got nobody but ma self. I's gwine to quit ma frownin' And put ma troubles on the shelf." Thump, thump, thump, went his foot on the floor. He played a few chords then he sang some more-- "I got the Weary Blues And I can't be satisfied. Got the Weary Blues And can't be satisfied-- I ain't happy no mo' And I wish that I had died." And far into the night he crooned that tune. The stars went out and so did the moon. The singer stopped playing and went to bed While the Weary Blues echoed through his head. He slept like a rock or a man that's dead. Hope Sometimes when I'm lonely, Don't know why, Keep thinkin' I won't be lonely By and by. Late Last Night Late last night I Set on my steps and cried. Wasn't nobody gone, Neither had nobody died. I was cryin' Cause you broke my heart in two. You looked at me cross-eyed And broke my heart in two-- So I was cryin' On account of You! Bad Morning Here I sit With my shoes mismated. Lawdy-mercy! I's frustrated! Sylvester's Dying Bed I woke up this mornin' 'Bout half-past three. All the womens in town Was gathered round me. Sweet gals was a-moanin', "Sylvester's gonna die!" And a hundred pretty mamas Bowed their heads to cry. I woke up little later 'Bout half-past fo', The doctor ‘n' undertaker's Both at ma do'. Black gals was a-beggin', "You can't leave us here!" Brown-skins cryin', "Daddy! Honey! Baby! Don't go, dear!" But I felt ma time's a-comin', And I know'd I's dyin' fast. I seed the River Jerden A-creepin' muddy past-- But I's still Sweet Papa 'Vester, Yes, sir! Long as life do last! So I hollers, "Com'ere, babies, Fo' to love yo' daddy right!" And I reaches up to hug 'em-- When the Lawd put out the light. Then everything was darkness In a great ... big ... night. Wake Tell all my mourners To mourn in red-- Cause there ain't no sense In my bein' dead. Could Be Could be Hastings Street, Or Lenox Avenue, Could be 18th & Vine And still be true. Could be 5th & Mound, Could be Rampart: When you pawned my watch You pawned my heart. Could be you love me, Could be that you don't. Might be that you'll come back, Like as not you won't. Hastings Street is weary, Also Lenox Avenue. Any place is dreary Without my watch and you. Bad Luck Card Cause you don't love me Is awful, awful hard. Gypsy done showed me My bad luck card. There ain't no good left In this world for me. Gypsy done tole me-- Unlucky as can be. I don't know what Po' weary me can do. Gypsy says I'd kill my self If I was you. Reverie on the Harlem River Did you ever go down to the river-- Two a.m. midnight by your self? Sit down by the river And wonder what you got left? Did you ever think about your mother? God bless her, dead and gone! Did you ever think about your sweetheart And wish she'd never been born? Down on the Harlem River: Two a.m. Midnight! By your self! Lawd, I wish I could die-- But who would miss me if I left? Morning After I was so sick last night I Didn't hardly know my mind. So sick last night I Didn't know my mind. I drunk some bad licker that Almost made me blind. Had a dream last night I Thought I was in hell. I drempt last night I Thought I was in hell. Woke up and looked around me-- Babe, your mouth was open like a well. I said, Baby! Baby! Please don't snore so loud. Baby! Please! Please don't snore so loud. You jest a little bit o' woman but you Sound like a great big crowd. Early Evening Quarrel Where is that sugar, Hammond, I sent you this morning to buy? I say, where is that sugar I sent you this morning to buy? Coffee without sugar Makes a good woman cry. I ain't got no sugar, Hattie, I gambled your dime away. Ain't got no sugar, I Done gambled that dime away. If yous a wise woman, Hattie, You ain't gonna have nothin to say. I ain't no wise woman, Hammond. I am evil and mad. Ain't no sense in a good woman Bein treated so bad. I don't treat you bad, Hattie, Neither does I treat you good. But I reckon I could treat you Worser if I would. Lawd, these things we women Have to stand! I wonder is there nowhere a Do-right man? Evil Looks like what drives me crazy Don't have no effect on you-- But I'm gonna keep on at it Till it drives you crazy, too. As Befits a Man I don't mind dying-- But I'd hate to die all alone! I want a dozen pretty women To holler, cry, and moan. I don't mind dying But I want my funeral to be fine: A row of long tall mamas Fainting, fanning, and crying. I want a fish-tail hearse And sixteen fish-tail cars, A big brass band And a whole truck load of flowers. When they let me down, Down into the clay, I want the women to holler: Please don't take him away! Ow-ooo-oo-o! Don't take daddy away! SEA AND LAND Havana Dreams The dream is a cocktail at Sloppy Joe's-- (Maybe--nobody knows.) The dream is the road to Batabano. (But nobody knows if that is so.) Perhaps the dream is only her face-- Perhaps it's a fan of silver lace-- Or maybe the dream's a Vedado rose-- (Quien sabe? Who really knows?) Catch Big Boy came Carrying a mermaid On his shoulders And the mermaid Had her tail Curved Beneath his arm. Being a fisher boy, He'd found a fish To carry-- Half fish, Half girl To marry. Water-Front Streets The spring is not so beautiful there-- But dream ships sail away To where the spring is wondrous rare And life is gay. The spring is not so beautiful there-- But lads put out to sea Who carry beauties in their hearts And dreams, like me. Long Trip The sea is a wilderness of waves, A desert of water. We dip and dive, Rise and roll, Hide and are hidden On the sea. Day, night, Night, day, The sea is a desert of waves, A wilderness of water. Seascape Off the coast of Ireland As our ship passed by We saw a line of fishing ships Etched against the sky. Off the coast of England As we rode the foam We saw an Indian merchantman Coming home. Moonlight Night: Carmel Tonight the waves march In long ranks Cutting the darkness With their silver shanks, Cutting the darkness And kissing the moon And beating the land's Edge into a swoon. Heaven Heaven is The place where Happiness is Everywhere. Animals And birds sing-- As does Everything. To each stone, "How-do-you-do?" Stone answers back, "Well! And you?" In Time of Silver Rain In time of silver rain The earth Puts forth new life again, Green grasses grow And flowers lift their heads, And over all the plain The wonder spreads Of life, Of life, Of life! In time of silver rain The butterflies Lift silken wings To catch a rainbow cry, And trees put forth New leaves to sing In joy beneath the sky As down the roadway Passing boys and girls Go singing, too, In time of silver rain When spring And life Are new. Joy I went to look for Joy, Slim, dancing Joy, Gay, laughing Joy, Bright-eyed Joy-- And I found her Driving the butcher's cart In the arms of the butcher boy! Such company, such company, As keeps this young nymph, Joy! Winter Moon How thin and sharp is the moon tonight! How thin and sharp and ghostly white Is the slim curved crook of the moon tonight! Snail Little snail, Dreaming you go. Weather and rose Is all you know. Weather and rose Is all you see, Drinking The dewdrop's Mystery. March Moon The moon is naked. The wind has undressed the moon. The wind has blown all the cloud-garments Off the body of the moon And now she's naked, Stark naked. But why don't you blush, O shameless moon? Don't you know It isn't nice to be naked? Harlem Night Song Come, Let us roam the night together Singing. I love you. Across The Harlem roof-tops Moon is shining. Night sky is blue. Stars are great drops Of golden dew. Down the street A band is playing. I love you. Come, Let us roam the night together Singing. To Artina I will take your heart. I will take your soul out of your body As though I were God. I will not be satisfied With the little words you say to me. I will not be satisfied With the touch of your hand Nor the sweet of your lips alone. I will take your heart for mine. I will take your soul. I will be God when it comes to you. Fulfilment The earth-meaning Like the sky-meaning Was fulfilled. We got up And went to the river, Touched silver water, Laughed and bathed In the sunshine. Day Became a bright ball of light For us to play with, Sunset A yellow curtain, Night A velvet screen. The moon, Like an old grandmother, Blessed us with a kiss And sleep Took us both in Laughing. Gypsy Melodies Songs that break And scatter Out of the moon: Rockets of joy Dimmed too soon. Mexican Market Woman This ancient hag Who sits upon the ground Selling her scanty wares Day in, day round, Has known high wind-swept mountains, And the sun has made Her skin so brown. A Black Pierrot I am a black Pierrot: She did not love me, So I crept away into the night And the night was black, too. I am a black Pierrot: She did not love me, So I wept until the dawn Dripped blood over the eastern hills And my heart was bleeding, too. I am a black Pierrot: She did not love me, So with my once gay-colored soul Shrunken like a balloon without air, I went forth in the morning To seek a new brown love. Ardella I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams Were it not for your songs. When Sue Wears Red When Susanna Jones wears red Her face is like an ancient cameo Turned brown by the ages. Come with a blast of trumpets, Jesus! When Susanna Jones wears red A queen from some time-dead Egyptian night Walks once again. Blow trumpets, Jesus! And the beauty of Susanna Jones in red Burns in my heart a love-fire sharp like pain. Sweet silver trumpets, Jesus! Love Love is a wild wonder And stars that sing, Rocks that burst asunder And mountains that take wing. John Henry with his hammer Makes a little spark. That little spark is love Dying in the dark. Beale Street The dream is vague And all confused With dice and women And jazz and booze. The dream is vague, Without a name, Yet warm and wavering And sharp as flame. The loss Of the dream Leaves nothing The same. Port Town Hello, sailor boy, In from the sea! Hello, sailor, Come with me! Come on drink cognac. Rather have wine? Come here, I love you. Come and be mine. Lights, sailor boy, Warm, white lights. Solid land, kid. Wild, white nights. Come on, sailor, Out o' the sea. Let's go, sweetie! Come with me. Natcha Natcha, offering love. For ten shillings offering love. Offering: A night with me, honey. A long, sweet night with me. Come, drink palm wine. Come, drink kisses. A long, dream night with me. Young Sailor He carries His own strength And his own laughter, His own today And his own hereafter-- This strong young sailor Of the wide seas. What is money for? To spend, he says. And wine? To drink. And women? To love. And today? For joy. And the green sea For strength, And the brown land For laughter. And nothing hereafter. Sea Calm How still, How strangely still The water is today. It is not good For water To be so still that way. Dream Dust Gather out of star-dust Earth-dust, Cloud-dust, Storm-dust, And splinters of hail, One handful of dream-dust Not for sale. No Regrets Out of love, No regrets-- Though the goodness Be wasted forever. Out of love, No regrets-- Though the return Be never. Troubled Woman She stands In the quiet darkness, This troubled woman Bowed by Weariness and pain Like an Autumn flower In the frozen rain, Like a Wind-blown autumn flower That never lifts its head Again. Island Wave of sorrow, Do not drown me now: I see the island Still ahead somehow. I see the island And its sands are fair: Wave of sorrow, Take me there. DISTANCE NOWHERE Border Line I used to wonder About living and dying-- I think the difference lies Between tears and crying. I used to wonder About here and there-- I think the distance Is nowhere. Garden Strange Distorted blades of grass, Strange Distorted trees, Strange Distorted tulips On their knees. Genius Child This is a song for the genius child. Sing it softly, for the song is wild. Sing it softly as ever you can-- Lest the song get out of hand. Nobody loves a genius child. Can you love an eagle, Tame or wild? Wild or tame, Can you love a monster Of frightening name? Nobody loves a genius child. Kill him--and let his soul run wild! Strange Hurt In times of stormy weather She felt queer pain That said, "You'll find rain better Than shelter from the rain." Days filled with fiery sunshine Strange hurt she knew That made Her seek the burning sunlight Rather than the shade. In months of snowy winter When cozy houses hold, She'd break down doors To wander naked In the cold. Suicide's Note The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss. End There are No clocks on the wall, And no time, No shadows that move From dawn to dusk Across the floor. There is neither light Nor dark Outside the door. There is no door! Drum Bear in mind That death is a drum Beating forever Till the last worms come To answer its call, Till the last stars fall, Until the last atom Is no atom at all, Until time is lost And there is no air And space itself Is nothing nowhere, Death is a drum, A signal drum, Calling life To come! Come! Come! Personal In an envelope marked: Personal God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: Personal I have given my answer. Juliet Wonder And pain And terror, And sick silly songs Of sorrow, And the marrow Of the bone Of life Are smeared across Her mouth. The road From Verona To Mantova Is dusty With the drought. Desire Desire to us Was like a double death, Swift dying Of our mingled breath, Evaporation Of an unknown strange perfume Between us quickly In a naked Room. Vagabonds We are the desperate Who do not care, The hungry Who have nowhere To eat, No place to sleep, The tearless Who cannot Weep. One Lonely As the wind On the Lincoln Prairies. Lonely As a bottle of licker On a table All by itself. Desert Anybody Better than Nobody. In the barren dusk Even the snake That spirals Terror on the sand-- Better than nobody In this lonely Land. A House in Taos Rain Thunder of the Rain God: And we three Smitten by beauty. Thunder of the Rain God: And we three Weary, weary. Thunder of the Rain God: And you, she, and I Waiting for nothingness. Do you understand the stillness Of this house In Taos Under the thunder of the Rain God? Sun That there should be a barren garden About this house in Taos Is not so strange, But that there should be three barren hearts In this one house in Taos-- Who carries ugly things to show the sun? Moon Did you ask for the beaten brass of the moon? We can buy lovely things with money, You, she, and I, Yet you seek, As though you could keep, This unbought loveliness of moon. Wind Touch our bodies, wind. Our bodies are separate, individual things. Touch our bodies, wind, But blow quickly Through the red, white, yellow skins Of our bodies To the terrible snarl, Not mine, Not yours, Not hers, But all one snarl of souls. Blow quickly, wind, Before we run back Into the windlessness-- With our bodies-- Into the windlessness Of our house in Taos. Demand Listen! Dear dream of utter aliveness-- Touching my body of utter death-- Tell me, O quickly! dream of aliveness, The flaming source of your bright breath. Tell me, O dream of utter aliveness-- Knowing so well the wind and the sun-- Where is this light Your eyes see forever? And what is this wind You touch when you run? Dream Last night I dreamt This most strange dream, And everywhere I saw What did not seem could ever be: You were not there with me! Awake, I turned And touched you Asleep, Face to the wall. I said, How dreams Can lie! But you were not there at all! Night: Four Songs Night of the two moons And the seventeen stars, Night of the day before yesterday And the day after tomorrow, Night of the four songs unsung: Sorrow! Sorrow! Sorrow! Sorrow! Luck Sometimes a crumb falls From the tables of joy, Sometimes a bone Is flung. To some people Love is given, To others Only heaven. Old Walt Old Walt Whitman Went finding and seeking, Finding less than sought Seeking more than found, Every detail minding Of the seeking or the finding. Pleasured equally In seeking as in finding, Each detail minding, Old Walt went seeking And finding. Kid in the Park Lonely little question mark on a bench in the park: See the people passing by? See the airplanes in the sky? See the birds flying home before dark? Home's just around the corner there-- but not really anywhere. Song for Billie Holiday What can purge my heart Of the song And the sadness? What can purge my heart But the song Of the sadness? What can purge my heart Of the sadness Of the song? Do not speak of sorrow With dust in her hair, Or bits of dust in eyes A chance wind blows there. The sorrow that I speak of Is dusted with despair. Voice of muted trumpet, Cold brass in warm air. Bitter television blurred By sound that shimmers-- Where? Fantasy in Purple Beat the drums of tragedy for me. Beat the drums of tragedy and death. And let the choir sing a stormy song To drown the rattle of my dying breath. Beat the drums of tragedy for me, And let the white violins whir thin and slow, But blow one blaring trumpet note of sun To go with me to the darkness where I go. AFTER HOURS Midnight Raffle I put my nickel In the raffle of the night. Somehow that raffle Didn't turn out right. I lost my nickel. I lost my time. I got back home Without a dime. When I dropped that nickel In the subway slot, I wouldn't have dropped it, Knowing what I got. I could just as well've Stayed home inside: My bread wasn't buttered On neither side. What? Some pimps wear summer hats Into late fall Since the money that comes in Won't cover it all-- Suit, overcoat, shoes-- And hat, too! Got to neglect something, So what would you do? Gone Boy Playboy of the dawn, Solid gone! Out all night Until 12--1--2 a.m. Next day When he should be gone To work-- Dog-gone! He ain't gone. 50–50 I'm all alone in this world, she said, Ain't got nobody to share my bed, Ain't got nobody to hold my hand-- The truth of the matter's I ain't got no man. Big Boy opened his mouth and said, Trouble with you is You ain't got no head! If you had a head and used your mind You could have me with you All the time. She answered, Babe, what must I do? He said, Share your bed-- And your money, too. Maybe I asked you, baby, If you understood-- You told me that you didn't, But you thought you would. Lover's Return My old time daddy Came back home last night. His face was pale and His eyes didn't look just right. He says, "Mary, I'm Comin' home to you-- So sick and lonesome I don't know what to do." Oh, men treats women Just like a pair o' shoes-- You kicks 'em round and Does 'em like you choose. I looked at my daddy-- Lawd! and I wanted to cry. He looked so thin-- Lawd! that I wanted to cry. But the devil told me: Damn a lover Come home to die! 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 love you, oh, I love you so-- But you have gone so far! Now my days are lonely, And night-time drives me wild. In my heart I'm crying, I'm just Miss Blues'es child! Trumpet Player The Negro With the trumpet at his lips Has dark moons of weariness Beneath his eyes Where the smoldering memory Of slave ships Blazed to the crack of whips About his thighs. The Negro With the trumpet at his lips Has a head of vibrant hair Tamed down, Patent-leathered now Until it gleams Like jet-- Were jet a crown. The music From the trumpet at his lips Is honey Mixed with liquid fire. The rhythm From the trumpet at his lips Is ecstasy Distilled from old desire-- Desire That is longing for the moon Where the moonlight's but a spotlight In his eyes, Desire That is longing for the sea Where the sea's a bar-glass Sucker size. The Negro With the trumpet at his lips Whose jacket Has a fine one-button roll, Does not know Upon what riff the music slips Its hypodermic needle To his soul-- But softly As the tune comes from his throat Trouble Mellows to a golden note. Monroe's Blues Monroe's fell on evil days-- His woman and his friend is dead. Monroe's fell on evil days, Can't hardly get his bread. Monroe sings a little blues, His little blues is sad. Monroe sings a little blues-- My woman and my friend is dead. Stony Lonesome They done took Cordelia Out to stony lonesome ground. Done took Cordelia To stony lonesome, Laid her down. They done put Cordelia Underneath that Grassless mound. Ay-Lord! Ay-Lord! Ay-Lord! She done left po' Buddy To struggle by his self. Po' Buddy Jones, Yes, he's done been left. She's out in stony lonesome, Lordy! Sleepin' by herself. Cordelia's In stony Lonesome Ground! Black Maria Must be the Black Maria That I see, The Black Maria that I see-- But I hope it Ain't comin' for me. Hear that music playin' upstairs? Aw, my heart is Full of cares-- But that music playin' upstairs Is for me. Babe, did you ever See the sun Rise at dawnin' full of fun? Says, did you ever see the sun rise Full of fun, full of fun? Then you know a new day's Done begun. Black Maria passin' by Leaves the sunrise in the sky-- And a new day, Yes, a new day's Done begun! LIFE IS FINE Life Is Fine I went down to the river, I set down on the bank. I tried to think but couldn't, So I jumped in and sank. I came up once and hollered! I came up twice and cried! If that water hadn't a-been so cold I might've sunk and died. But it was Cold in that water! It was cold! I took the elevator Sixteen floors above the ground. I thought about my baby And thought I would jump down. I stood there and I hollered! I stood there and I cried! If it hadn't a-been so high I might've jumped and died. But it was High up there! It was high! So since I'm still here livin', I guess I will live on. I could've died for love-- But for livin' I was born. Though you may hear me holler, And you may see me cry-- I'll be dogged, sweet baby, If you gonna see me die. Life is fine! Fine as wine! Life is fine! Still Here I've been scarred and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, sun has baked me. Looks like between 'em They done tried to make me Stop laughin', stop lovin', stop livin'-- But I don't care! I'm still here! Ballad of the Gypsy I went to the Gypsy's. Gypsy settin' all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver, Put some silver in my hand And I'll look into the future And tell you all I can. I crossed her palm with silver, Then she started in to lie. She said, Now, listen, Mister, She'll be here by and by. Aw, what a lie! I been waitin' and a-waitin' And she ain't come home yet. Something musta happened To make my gal forget. Uh! I hates a lyin' Gypsy Will take good money from you, Tell you pretty stories And take your money from you-- But if I was a Gypsy I would take your money, too. Me and the Mule My old mule, He's got a grin on his face. He's been a mule so long He's forgot about his race. I'm like that old mule-- Black--and don't give a damn! You got to take me Like I am. Kid Sleepy Listen, Kid Sleepy, Don't you want to run around To the other side of the house Where the shade is? It's sunny here And your skin'll turn A reddish-purple in the sun. Kid Sleepy said, I don't care. Listen, Kid Sleepy, Don't you want to get up And go to work down-Town somewhere To earn enough For lunches and car fare? Kid Sleepy said, I don't care. Or would you rather, Kid Sleepy, just Stay here? Rather just Stay here. Little Lyric (Of Great Importance) I wish the rent Was heaven sent. Fired Awake all night with loving The bright day caught me Unawares--asleep. "Late to work again," The boss man said. "You're fired!" So I went on back to bed-- And dreamed the sweetest dream With Caledonia's arm Beneath my head. Midnight Dancer Wine-maiden Of the jazz-tuned night, Lips Sweet as purple dew, Breasts Like the pillows of all sweet dreams, Who crushed The grapes of joy And dripped their juice On you? Blue Monday No use in my going Downtown to work today, It's eight, I'm late-- And it's marked down that-a-way. Saturday and Sunday's Fun to sport around. But no use denying-- Monday'll get you down. That old blue Monday Will surely get you down. Ennui It's such a Bore Being always Poor. Mama and Daughter Mama, please brush off my coat I'm going down the street. Where're you going, daughter? To see my sugar-sweet. Who is your sugar, honey? Turn around--I'll brush behind. He is that young man, mama, I can't get off my mind. Daughter, once upon a time-- Let me brush the hem-- Your father, yes, he was the one! I felt like that about him. But it was a long time ago He up and went his way. I hope that wild young son-of-a-gun Rots in hell today! Mama, dad couldn't be still young. He was young yesterday. He was young when he-- Turn around! So I can brush your back, I say! Delinquent Little Julie Has grown quite tall. Folks say she don't like To stay home at all. Little Julie Has grown quite stout. Folks say it's not just Stomach sticking out. Little Julie Has grown quite wise-- A tiger, a lion, and an owl In her eyes. Little Julie Says she don't care! What she means is: Nobody cares Anywhere. S-sss-ss-sh! Her great adventure ended As great adventures should In life being created Anew--and good. Except the neighbors And her mother Did not think it good! Nature has a way Of not caring much About marriage Licenses and such. But the neighbors And her mother Cared very much! The baby came one morning, Almost with the sun. The neighbors-- And its grandma-- Were outdone! But mother and child Thought it fun. Homecoming I went back in the alley And I opened up my door. All her clothes was gone: She wasn't home no more. I pulled back the covers, I made down the bed. A whole lot of room Was the only thing I had. Final Curve When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left. Little Green Tree It looks like to me My good-time days done past. Nothin' in this world Is due to last. I used to play And I played so dog-gone hard. Now old age has Dealt my bad-luck card. I look down the road And I see a little tree. A little piece down the road. I see a little tree. Them cool green leaves Is waitin' to shelter me. O, little tree! Crossing It was that lonely day, folks, When I walked all by myself. My friends was all around me But it was as if they'd left. I went up on a mountain In a high cold wind And the coat that I was wearing Was mosquito-netting thin. I went down in the valley And I crossed an icy stream And the water I was crossing Was no water in a dream And the shoes I was wearing No protection for that stream. Then I stood out on a prairie And as far as I could see Wasn't nobody on that prairie Looked like me. It was that lonely day, folks, I walked all by myself: My friends was right there with me But was just as if they'd left. Widow Woman Oh, that last long ride is a Ride everybody must take. Yes, that last long ride's a Ride everybody must take. And that final stop is a Stop everybody must make. When they put you in the ground and They throw dirt in your face, I say put you in the ground and Throw dirt in your face, That's one time, pretty papa, You'll sure stay in your place. You was a mighty lover and you Ruled me many years. A mighty lover, baby, cause you Ruled me many years-- If I live to be a thousand I'll never dry these tears. I don't want nobody else and Don't nobody else want me. I say don't want nobody else And don't nobody else want me-- Yet you never can tell when a Woman like me is free! LAMENT OVER LOVE Misery Play the blues for me. Play the blues for me. No other music 'Ll ease my misery. Sing a soothin' song. Said a soothin' song, Cause the man I love's done Done me wrong. Can't you understand, O, understand A good woman's cryin' For a no-good man? Black gal like me, Black gal like me 'S got to hear a blues For her misery. Ballad of the Fortune Teller Madam could look in your hand-- Never seen you before-- And tell you more than You'd want to know. She could tell you about love, And money, and such. And she wouldn't Charge you much. A fellow came one day. Madam took him in. She treated him like He was her kin. Gave him money to gamble. She gave him bread, And let him sleep in her Walnut bed. Friends tried to tell her Dave meant her no good. Looks like she could've knowed it If she only would. He mistreated her terrible, Beat her up bad. Then went off and left her. Stole all she had. She tried to find out What road he took. There wasn't a trace No way she looked. That woman who could foresee What your future meant, Couldn't tell, to save her, Where Dave went. Cora I broke my heart this mornin', Ain't got no heart no more. Next time a man comes near me Gonna shut an' lock my door Cause they treat me mean-- The ones I love. They always treat me mean. Down and Out Baby, if you love me Help me when I'm down and out If you love me, baby, Help me when I'm down and out, I'm a po' gal Nobody gives a damn about. The credit man's done took ma clothes And rent time's nearly here. I'd like to buy a straightenin' comb, An' I need a dime fo' beer. I need a dime fo' beer. Young Gal's Blues I'm gonna walk to the graveyard 'Hind ma friend Miss Cora Lee. Gonna walk to the graveyard 'Hind ma dear friend Cora Lee Cause when I'm dead some Body'll have to walk behind me. I'm goin' to the po' house To see ma old Aunt Clew. Goin' to the po' house To see ma old Aunt Clew. When I'm old an' ugly I'll want to see somebody, too. The po' house is lonely An' the grave is cold. O, the po' house is lonely, The graveyard grave is cold. But I'd rather be dead than To be ugly an' old. When love is gone what Can a young gal do? When love is gone, O, What can a young gal do? Keep on a-lovin' me, daddy, Cause I don't want to be blue. Ballad of the Girl Whose Name Is Mud A girl with all that raising, It's hard to understand How she could get in trouble With a no-good man. The guy she gave her all to Dropped her with a thud. Now amongst decent people, Dorothy's name is mud. But nobody's seen her shed a tear, Nor seen her hang her head. Ain't even heard her murmur, Lord, I wish I was dead! No! The hussy's telling everybody-- Just as though it was no sin-- That if she had a chance She'd do it agin'! Hard Daddy I went to ma daddy, Says Daddy I have got the blues. Went to ma daddy, Says Daddy I have got the blues. Ma daddy says, Honey, Can't you bring no better news? I cried on his shoulder but He turned his back on me. Cried on his shoulder but He turned his back on me. He said a woman's cryin's Never gonna bother me. I wish I had wings to Fly like the eagle flies. Wish I had wings to Fly like the eagle flies. I'd fly on ma man an' I'd scratch out both his eyes. Midwinter Blues In the middle of the winter, Snow all over the ground. In the middle of the winter, Snow all over the ground-- 'Twas the night befo' Christmas My good man turned me down. Don't know's I'd mind his goin' But he left me when the coal was low. Don't know's I'd mind his goin' But he left when the coal was low. Now, if a man loves a woman That ain't no time to go. He told me that he loved me But he must a been tellin' a lie. He told me that he loved me. He must a been tellin' a lie. But he's the only man I'll Love till the day I die. I'm gonna buy me a rose bud An' plant it at my back door, Buy me a rose bud, Plant it at my back door, So when I'm dead they won't need No flowers from the store. Little Old Letter It was yesterday morning I looked in my box for mail. The letter that I found there Made me turn right pale. Just a little old letter, Wasn't even one page long-- But it made me wish I was in my grave and gone. I turned it over, Not a word writ on the back. I never felt so lonesome Since I was born black. Just a pencil and paper, You don't need no gun nor knife-- A little old letter Can take a person's life. Lament over Love I hope my child'll Never love a man. I say I hope my child'll Never love a man. Love can hurt you Mo'n anything else can. I'm goin' down to the river An' I ain't goin' there to swim; Down to the river, Ain't goin' there to swim. My true love's left me And I'm goin' there to think about him. Love is like whiskey, Love is like red, red wine. Love is like whiskey, Like sweet red wine. If you want to be happy You got to love all the time. I'm goin' up in a tower Tall as a tree is tall, Up in a tower Tall as a tree is tall. Gonna think about my man-- And let my fool-self fall. MAGNOLIA FLOWERS Daybreak in Alabama When I get to be a composer I'm gonna write me some music about Daybreak in Alabama And I'm gonna put the purtiest songs in it Rising out of the ground like a swamp mist And falling out of heaven like soft dew. I'm gonna put some tall tall trees in it And the scent of pine needles And the smell of red clay after rain And long red necks And poppy colored faces And big brown arms And the field daisy eyes Of black and white black white black people And I'm gonna put white hands And black hands and brown and yellow hands And red clay earth hands in it Touching everybody with kind fingers And touching each other natural as dew In that dawn of music when I Get to be a composer And write about daybreak In Alabama. Cross My old man's a white old man And my old mother's black. If ever I cursed my white old man I take my curses back. If ever I cursed my black old mother And wished she were in hell, I'm sorry for that evil wish And now I wish her well. My old man died in a fine big house. My ma died in a shack. I wonder where I'm gonna die, Being neither white nor black? Magnolia Flowers The quiet fading out of life In a corner full of ugliness. I went lookin' for magnolia flowers But I didn't find 'em. I went lookin' for magnolia flowers in the dusk And there was only this corner Full of ugliness. 'Scuse me, I didn't mean to stump ma toe on you, lady. There ought to be magnolias Somewhere in this dusk. 'Scuse me, I didn't mean to stump ma toe on you. Mulatto I am your son, white man! Georgia dusk And the turpentine woods. One of the pillars of the temple fell. You are my son! Like hell! The moon over the turpentine woods. The Southern night Full of stars, Great big yellow stars. What's a body but a toy? Juicy bodies Of nigger wenches Blue black Against black fences. O, you little bastard boy, What's a body but a toy? The scent of pine wood stings the soft night air. What's the body of your mother? Silver moonlight everywhere. What's the body of your mother? Sharp pine scent in the evening air. A nigger night, A nigger joy, A little yellow Bastard boy. Naw, you ain't my brother. Niggers ain't my brother. Not ever. Niggers ain't my brother. The Southern night is full of stars, Great big yellow stars. O, sweet as earth, Dusk dark bodies Give sweet birth To little yellow bastard boys. Git on back there in the night, You ain't white. The bright stars scatter everywhere. Pine wood scent in the evening air. A nigger night, A nigger joy. I am your son, white man! A little yellow Bastard boy. Southern Mammy Sings Miss Gardner's in her garden. Miss Yardman's in her yard. Miss Michaelmas is at de mass And I am gettin' tired! Lawd! I am gettin' tired! The nations they is fightin' And the nations they done fit. Sometimes I think that white folks Ain't worth a little bit. No, m'am! Ain't worth a little bit. Last week they lynched a colored boy. They hung him to a tree. That colored boy ain't said a thing But we all should be free. Yes, m'am! We all should be free. Not meanin' to be sassy And not meanin' to be smart-- But sometimes I think that white folks Just ain't got no heart. No, m'am! Just ain't got no heart. Ku Klux They took me out To some lonesome place. They said, "Do you believe In the great white race?" I said, "Mister, To tell you the truth, I'd believe in anything If you'd just turn me loose." The white man said, "Boy, Can it be You're a-standin' there A-sassin' me?" They hit me in the head And knocked me down. And then they kicked me On the ground. A klansman said, "Nigger, Look me in the face-- And tell me you believe in The great white race." West Texas Down in West Texas where the sun Shines like the evil one I had a woman And her name Was Joe. Pickin' cotton in the field Joe said I wonder how it would feel For us to pack up Our things And go? So we cranked up our old Ford And we started down the road Where we was goin' We didn't know-- Nor which way. But West Texas where the sun Shines like the evil one Ain't no place For a colored Man to stay! Share-Croppers Just a herd of Negroes Driven to the field, Plowing, planting, hoeing, To make the cotton yield. When the cotton's picked And the work is done Boss man takes the money And we get none, Leaves us hungry, ragged As we were before. Year by year goes by And we are nothing more Than a herd of Negroes Driven to the field-- Plowing life away To make the cotton yield. Ruby Brown She was young and beautiful And golden like the sunshine That warmed her body. And because she was colored Mayville had no place to offer her, Nor fuel for the clean flame of joy That tried to burn within her soul. One day, Sitting on old Mrs. Latham's back porch Polishing the silver, She asked herself two questions And they ran something like this: What can a colored girl do On the money from a white woman's kitchen? And ain't there any joy in this town? Now the streets down by the river Know more about this pretty Ruby Brown, And the sinister shuttered houses of the bottoms Hold a yellow girl Seeking an answer to her questions. The good church folk do not mention Her name any more. But the white men, Habitués of the high shuttered houses, Pay more money to her now Than they ever did before, When she worked in their kitchens. Roland Hayes Beaten (Georgia: 1942) Negroes, Sweet and docile, Meek, humble, and kind: Beware the day They change their minds! Wind In the cotton fields, Gentle breeze: Beware the hour It uproots trees! Uncle Tom Within-- The beaten pride. Without-- The grinning face, The low, obsequious, Double bow, The sly and servile grace Of one the white folks Long ago Taught well To know his Place. Porter I must say Yes, sir, To you all the time. Yes, sir! Yes, sir! All my days Climbing up a great big mountain Of yes, sirs! Rich old white man Owns the world. Gimme yo' shoes To shine. Yes, sir! Blue Bayou I went walkin' By the blue bayou And I saw the sun go down. I thought about old Greeley And I thought about Lou And I saw the sun go down. White man Makes me work all day And I work too hard For too little pay-- Then a white man Takes my woman away. I'll kill old Greeley. The blue bayou Turns red as fire. Put the black man On a rope And pull him higher! I saw the sun go down. Put him on a rope And pull him higher! The blue bayou's A pool of fire. And I saw the sun go down, Down, Down, Lawd, I saw the sun go down! Silhouette Southern gentle lady, Do not swoon. They've just hung a black man In the dark of the moon. They've hung a black man To a roadside tree In the dark of the moon For the world to see How Dixie protects Its white womanhood. Southern gentle lady, Be good! Be good! Song for a Dark Girl Way Down South in Dixie (Break the heart of me) They hung my black young lover To a cross roads tree. Way Down South in Dixie (Bruised body high in air) I asked the white Lord Jesus What was the use of prayer. Way Down South in Dixie (Break the heart of me) Love is a naked shadow On a gnarled and naked tree. The South The lazy, laughing South With blood on its mouth. The sunny-faced South, Beast-strong, Idiot-brained. The child-minded South Scratching in the dead fire's ashes For a Negro's bones. Cotton and the moon, Warmth, earth, warmth, The sky, the sun, the stars, The magnolia-scented South. Beautiful, like a woman, Seductive as a dark-eyed whore, Passionate, cruel, Honey-lipped, syphilitic-- That is the South. And I, who am black, would love her But she spits in my face. And I, who am black, Would give her many rare gifts But she turns her back upon me. So now I seek the North-- The cold-faced North, For she, they say, Is a kinder mistress, And in her house my children May escape the spell of the South. Bound No'th Blues Goin' down the road, Lawd, Goin' down the road. Down the road, Lawd, Way, way down the road. Got to find somebody To help me carry this load. Road's in front o' me, Nothin' to do but walk. Road's in front o' me, Walk ... an' walk ... an' walk. I'd like to meet a good friend To come along an' talk. Hates to be lonely, Lawd, I hates to be sad. Says I hates to be lonely, Hates to be lonely an' sad, But ever friend you finds seems Like they try to do you bad. Road, road, road, O! Road, road ... road ... road, road! Road, road, road, O! On the no'thern road. These Mississippi towns ain't Fit fer a hoppin' toad. NAME IN UPHILL LETTERS One-Way Ticket I pick up my life And take it with me And I put it down in Chicago, Detroit, Buffalo, Scranton, Any place that is North and East-- And not Dixie. I pick up my life And take it on the train To Los Angeles, Bakersfield, Seattle, Oakland, Salt Lake, Any place that is North and West-- And not South. I am fed up With Jim Crow laws, People who are cruel And afraid, Who lynch and run, Who are scared of me And me of them. I pick up my life And take it away On a one-way ticket-- Gone up North, Gone out West, Gone! Migrant (Chicago) Daddy-o Buddy-o Works at the foundry. Daddy-o Buddy-o Rides the State Street street car, Transfers to the West Side, Polish, Bohunk, Irish, Grabs a load of sunrise As he rides out on the prairie, Never knew DuSable, Has a lunch to carry. Iron lifting iron Makes iron of chocolate muscles. Iron lifting iron Makes hammer beat of drum beat And the heat Moulds and melts and moulds it On red heart become an anvil Until a glow is lighted In the eyes once soft benighted And the cotton field is frightened A thousand miles away. They draw up restrictive covenants In Australia, too, they say. Our President Takes up important matters Still left by V-J Day. Congress cases Russia. The Tribune's hair Turns gray. Daddy-o Buddy-o Signs his name In uphill letters On the check that is his pay. But if he wasn't in a hurry He wouldn't write so Bad that way, Daddy-o. Summer Evening (Calumet Avenue) Mothers pass, Sweet watermelon in a baby carriage, Black seed for eyes And a rose pink mouth. Pimps in gray go by, Boots polished like a Murray head, Or in reverse Madam Walker On their shoe tips. I. W. Harper Stops to listen to gospel songs From a tent at the corner Where the carnival is Christian. Jitneys go by Full of chine bones in dark glasses, And a blind man plays an accordion Gurgling Jericho. Theresa Belle Aletha Throws a toothpick from her window, And the four bells she's awaiting Do not ring, not even murmur. But maybe before midnight The tamale man will come by, And if Uncle Mac brings beer Night will pull its slack taut And wrap a string around its finger So as not to forget That tomorrow is Monday. A dime on those two bottles. Yes, they are yours, Too! And in another week It will again Be Sunday. Graduation Cinnamon and rayon, Jet and coconut eyes, Mary Lulu Jackson Smooths the skirt At her thighs. Mama, portly oven, Brings remainders from the kitchen Where the people all are icebergs Wrapped in checks and wealthy. DIPLOMA in its new frame: Mary Lulu Jackson, Eating chicken, Tells her mama she's a typist And the clicking of the keys Will spell the name Of a job in a fine office Far removed from basic oven, Cookstoves, And iceberg's kitchen. Mama says, Praise Jesus! Until then I'll bring home chicken! The DIPLOMA bursts its frame To scatter star-dust in their eyes. Mama says, Praise Jesus! The colored race will rise! Mama says, Praise Jesus! Then, Because she's tired, She sighs. Interne at Provident White coats White aprons White dresses White shoes Pain and a learning To take away to Alabama. Practice on a State Street cancer, Practice on a stockyards rupture, Practice on the small appendix Of 26-girl at the corner, Learning skills of surgeons Brown and wonderful with longing To cure ills of Africa, Democracy, And mankind, Also ills quite common Among all who stand on two feet. Brown hands Black hands Golden hands in white coat, Nurses' hands on suture. Miracle maternity: Pain on hind legs rising, Pain tamed and subsiding Like a mule broke to the halter. Charity's checked money Aids triumphant entry squalling After bitter thrust of bearing Chocolate and blood: Projection of a day! Tears of joy And Coca-Cola Twinkle on the rubber gloves He's wearing. A crown of sweat Gleams on his forehead. In the white moon Of the amphitheatre Magi are staring. The light on the Palmolive Building Shines like a star in the East. Nurses turn glass doorknobs Opening into corridors. A mist of iodine and ether Follows the young doctor, Cellophanes his long stride, Cellophanes his future. Railroad Avenue Dusk dark On Railroad Avenue. Lights in the fish joints, Lights in the pool rooms. A box-car some train Has forgotten In the middle of the Block. A player piano, A victrola. 942 Was the number. A boy Lounging on a corner. A passing girl With purple powdered skin. Laughter Suddenly Like a taut drum. Laughter Suddenly Neither truth nor lie. Laughter Hardening the dusk dark evening. Laughter Shaking the lights in the fish joints, Rolling white balls in the pool rooms, And leaving untouched the box-car Some train has forgotten. Mother to Son Well, son, I'll tell you: Life for me ain't been no crystal stair. It's had tacks in it, And splinters, And boards torn up, And places with no carpet on the floor-- Bare. But all the time I'se been a-climbin' on, And reachin' landin's, And turnin' corners, And sometimes goin' in the dark Where there ain't been no light. So boy, don't you turn back. Don't you set down on the steps 'Cause you finds it's kinder hard. Don't you fall now-- For I'se still goin', honey, I'se still climbin', And life for me ain't been no crystal stair. Stars O, sweep of stars over Harlem streets, O, little breath of oblivion that is night. A city building To a mother's song. A city dreaming To a lullaby. Reach up your hand, dark boy, and take a star. Out of the little breath of oblivion That is night, Take just One star. To Be Somebody Little girl Dreaming of a baby grand piano (Not knowing there's a Steinway bigger, bigger) Dreaming of a baby grand to play That stretches paddle-tailed across the floor, Not standing upright Like a bad boy in the corner, But sending music Up the stairs and down the stairs And out the door To confound even Hazel Scott Who might be passing! Oh! Little boy Dreaming of the boxing gloves Joe Louis wore, The gloves that sent Two dozen men to the floor. Knockout! Bam! Bop! Mop! There's always room, They say, At the top. Note on Commercial Theatre You've taken my blues and gone-- You sing 'em on Broadway And you sing 'em in Hollywood Bowl, And you mixed 'em up with symphonies And you fixed 'em So they don't sound like me. Yep, you done taken my blues and gone. You also took my spirituals and gone. You put me in Macbeth and Carmen Jones And all kinds of Swing Mikados And in everything but what's about me-- But someday somebody'll Stand up and talk about me, And write about me-- Black and beautiful-- And sing about me, And put on plays about me! I reckon it'll be Me myself! Yes, it'll be me. Puzzled Here on the edge of hell Stands Harlem-- Remembering the old lies, The old kicks in the back, The old, Be patient, They told us before. Sure, we remember. Now, when the man at the corner store Says sugar's gone up another two cents, And bread one, And there's a new tax on cigarettes-- We remember the job we never had, Never could get, And can't have now Because we're colored. So we stand here On the edge of hell In Harlem And look out on the world And wonder What we're gonna do In the face of What we remember. Seashore through Dark Glasses (Atlantic City) Beige sailors with large noses Binocular the Atlantic. At Club Harlem it's eleven And seven cats go frantic. Two parties from Philadelphia Dignify the place And murmur: Such Negroes disgrace the race! On Artie Avenue Sea food joints Scent salty-colored Compass points. Baby Albert! Hey, Albert! Don't you play in dat road. You see dem trucks A-goin' by. One run ovah you An' you die. Albert, don't you play in dat road. Merry-Go-Round Colored child at carnival: Where is the Jim Crow section On this merry-go-round, Mister, cause I want to ride? Down South where I come from White and colored Can't sit side by side. Down South on the train There's a Jim Crow car. On the bus we're put in the back-- But there ain't no back To a merry-go-round! Where's the horse For a kid that's black? Elevator Boy I got a job now Runnin' an elevator In the Dennison Hotel in Jersey. Job ain't no good though. No money around. Jobs are just chances Like everything else. Maybe a little luck now, Maybe not. Maybe a good job sometimes: Step out o' the barrel, boy. Two new suits an' A woman to sleep with. Maybe no luck for a long time. Only the elevators Goin' up an' down, Up an' down, Or somebody else's shoes To shine, Or greasy pots in a dirty kitchen. I been runnin' this Elevator too long. Guess I'll quit now. Who But the Lord? I looked and I saw That man they call the Law. He was coming Down the street at me! I had visions in my head Of being laid out cold and dead, Or else murdered By the third degree. I said, O, Lord, if you can, Save me from that man! Don't let him make a pulp out of me! But the Lord he was not quick. The Law raised up his stick And beat the living hell Out of me! Now, I do not understand Why God don't protect a man From police brutality. Being poor and black, I've no weapon to strike back So who but the Lord Can protect me? Third Degree Hit me! Jab me! Make me say I did it. Blood on my sport shirt And my tan suede shoes. Faces like jack-o'-lanterns In gray slouch hats. Slug me! Beat me! Scream jumps out Like blow-torch. Three kicks between the legs That km the kids I'd make tomorrow. Bars and floor skyrocket And burst like Roman candles. When you throw Cold water on me, I'll sign the Paper.... Ballad of the Man Who's Gone No money to bury him. The relief gave Forty-Four. The undertaker told 'em, You'll need Sixty more For a first-class funeral, A hearse and two cars-- And maybe your friends'll Send some flowers. His wife took a paper And went around. Everybody that gave something She put 'em down. She raked up a Hundred For her man that was dead. His buddies brought flowers. A funeral was had. A minister preached-- And charged Five To bless him dead And praise him alive. Now that he's buried-- God rest his soul-- Reckon there's no charge For graveyard mold. I wonder what makes A funeral so high? A poor man ain't got No business to die. MADAM TO YOU Madam's Past History My name is Johnson-- Madam Alberta K. The Madam stands for business. I'm smart that way. I had a HAIR-DRESSING PARLOR Before The depression put The prices lower. Then I had a BARBECUE STAND Till I got mixed up With a no-good man. Cause I had a insurance The WPA Said, We can't use you Wealthy that way. I said, DON'T WORRY 'BOUT ME! Just like the song, You WPA folks take care of yourself-- And I'll get along. I do cooking, Day's work, too! Alberta K. Johnson-- Madam to you. Madam and Her Madam I worked for a woman, She wasn't mean-- But she had a twelve-room House to clean. Had to get breakfast, Dinner, and supper, too-- Then take care of her children When I got through. Wash, iron, and scrub, Walk the dog around-- It was too much, Nearly broke me down. I said, Madam, Can it be You trying to make a Pack-horse out of me? She opened her mouth. She cried, Oh, no! You know, Alberta, I love you so! I said, Madam, That may be true-- But I'll be dogged If I love you! Madam's Calling Cards I had some cards printed The other day. They cost me more Than I wanted to pay. I told the man I wasn't no mint, But I hankered to see My name in print MADAM JOHNSON, ALBERTA K. He said, Your name looks good Madam'd that way. Shall I use Old English Or a Roman letter? I said, Use American. American's better. There's nothing foreign To my pedigree: Alberta K. Johnson-- American that's me. Madam and the Rent Man The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy-do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know Your rent is due. I said, Listen, Before I'd pay I'd go to Hades And rot away! The sink is broke, The water don't run, And you ain't done a thing You promised to've done. Back window's cracked, Kitchen floor squeaks, There's rats in the cellar, And the attic leaks. He said, Madam, It's not up to me. I'm just the agent, Don't you see? I said, Naturally, You pass the buck. If it's money you want You're out of luck. He said, Madam, I ain't pleased! I said, Neither am I. So we agrees! Madam and the Number Writer Number runner Come to my door. I had swore I wouldn't play no more. He said, Madam, 6–0–2 Looks like a likely Hit for you. I said, Last night, I dreamed 7–0–3. He said, That might Be a hit for me. He played a dime, I played, too, Then we boxed 'em. Wouldn't you? But the number that day Was 3–2–6-- And we both was in The same old fix. I said, I swear I Ain't gonna play no more Till I get over To the other shore-- Then I can play On them golden streets Where the number not only Comes out--but repeats! The runner said, Madam, That's all very well-- But suppose You goes to hell? Madam and the Phone Bill You say I O.K.ed LONG DISTANCE? O.K.ed it when? My goodness, Central, That was then! I'm mad and disgusted With that Negro now. I don't pay no REVERSED CHARGES nohow. You say, I will pay it-- Else you'll take out my phone? You better let My phone alone. I didn't ask him To telephone me. Roscoe knows darn well LONG DISTANCE Ain't free. If I ever catch him, Lawd, have pity! Calling me up From Kansas City Just to say he loves me! I knowed that was so. Why didn't he tell me some'n I don't know? For instance, what can Them other girls do That Alberta K. Johnson Can't do--and more, too? What's that, Central? You say you don't care Nothing about my Private affair? Well, even less about your PHONE BILL does I care! Un-humm-m! ... Yes! You say I gave my O.K.? Well, that O.K. you may keep-- But I sure ain't gonna pay! Madam and the Charity Child Once I adopted A little girl child. She grew up and got ruint, Nearly drove me wild. Then I adopted A little boy. He used a switch-blade For a toy. What makes these charity Children so bad? Ain't had no luck With none I had. Poor little things, Born behind the 8-rock, With parents that don't even Stop to take stock. The county won't pay me But a few bucks a week. Can't raise no child on that, So to speak. And the lady from the Juvenile Court Always coming around Wanting a report. Last time I told her, Report, my eye! Things is bad-- You figure out why! Madam and the Fortune Teller Fortune teller looked in my hand. Fortune teller said, Madam, It's just good luck You ain't dead. Fortune teller squeeze my hand. She squinted up her eyes. Fortune teller said, Madam, you ain't wise. I said, Please explain to me What you mean by that? She said, You must recognize Where your fortune's at. I said, Madam, tell me-- For she was Madam, too-- Where is my fortune at? I'll pay some mind to you. She said, Your fortune, honey, Lies right in yourself. You ain't gonna find it On nobody else's shelf. I said, What man you're talking 'bout? She said, Madam! Be calm-- For one more dollar and a half, I'll read your other palm. Madam and the Wrong Visitor A man knocked three times. I never seen him before. He said, Are you Madam? I said, What's the score? He said, I reckon You don't know my name, But I've come to call On you just the same. I stepped back Like he had a charm. He said, I really Don't mean no harm. I'm just Old Death And I thought I might Pay you a visit Before night. He said, You're Johnson-- Madam Alberta K.? I said, Yes--but Alberta Ain't goin' with you today! No sooner had I told him Than I awoke. The doctor said, Madam, Your fever's broke-- Nurse, put her on a diet, And buy her some chicken. I said, Better buy two-- Cause I'm still here kickin'! Madam and the Minister Reverend Butler came by My house last week. He said, Have you got A little time to speak? He said, I am interested In your soul. Has it been saved, Or is your heart stone-cold? I said, Reverend, I'll have you know I was baptized Long ago. He said, What have you Done since then? I said, None of your Business, friend. He said, Sister Have you back-slid? I said, It felt good-- If I did! He said, Sister, Come time to die, The Lord will surely Ask you why! I'm gonna pray For you! Goodbye! I felt kinder sorry I talked that way After Rev. Butler Went away-- So I ain't in no mood For sin today. Madam and Her Might-Have-Been I had two husbands. I could of had three-- But my Might-Have-Been Was too good for me. When you grow up the hard way Sometimes you don't know What's too good to be true, Just might be so. He worked all the time, Spent his money on me-- First time in my life I had anything free. I said, Do you love me? Or am I mistaken? You're always giving And never taking. He said, Madam, I swear All I want is you. Right then and there I knowed we was through! I told him, Jackson, You better leave-- You got some'n else Up your sleeve: When you think you got bread It's always a stone-- Nobody loves nobody For yourself alone. He said, In me You've got no trust. I said, I don't want My heart to bust. Madam and the Census Man The census man, The day he came round, Wanted my name To put it down. I said, JOHNSON, ALBERTA K. But he hated to write The K that way. He said, What Does K stand for? I said, K-- And nothing more. He said, I'm gonna put it K--A--Y. I said, If you do, You lie. My mother christened me ALBERTA K. You leave my name Just that way! He said, Mrs., (With a snort) Just a K Makes your name too short. I said, I don't Give a damn! Leave me and my name Just like I am! Furthermore, rub out That MRS., too-- I'll have you know I'm Madam to you! MONTAGE OF A DREAM DEFERRED Dream Boogie Good morning, daddy! Ain't you heard The boogie-woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? Listen closely: You'll hear their feet Beating out and beating out a-- You think It's a happy beat? Listen to it closely: Ain't you heard something underneath like a-- What did I say? Sure, I'm happy! Take it away! Hey, pop! Re-bop! Mop! Y-e-a-h! Parade Seven ladies and seventeen gentlemen at the Elks Club Lounge planning planning a parade: Grand Marshal in his white suit will lead it. Cadillacs with dignitaries will precede it. And behind will come with band and drum on foot ... on foot ... on foot ... Motorcycle cops, white, will speed it out of sight if they can: Solid black, can't be right. Marching ... marching ... marching ... noon till night ... I never knew that many Negroes were on earth, did you? I never knew! PARADE! A chance to let PARADE! the whole world see PARADE! old black me! Children's Rhymes When I was a chile we used to play, "One--two--buckle my shoe!" and things like that. But now, Lord, listen at them little varmints! By what sends the white kids I ain't sent: I know I can't be President. There is two thousand children in this block, I do believe! What don't bug them white kids sure bugs me: We knows everybody ain't free! Some of these young ones is cert'ly bad-- One batted a hard ball right through my window and my gold fish et the glass. What's written down for white folks ain't for us a-tall: "Liberty And Justice-- Huh--For All." Oop-pop-a-da! Skee! Daddle-de-do! Be-bop! Salt'peanuts! De-dop! Sister That little Negro's married and got a kid. Why does he keep on foolin' around Marie? Marie's my sister--not married to me-- But why does he keep on foolin' around Marie? Why don't she get a boy-friend I can understand--some decent man? Did it ever occur to you, son, the reason Marie runs around with trash is she wants some cash? Don't decent folks have dough? Unfortunately usually no! Well, anyway, it don't have to be a married man. Did it ever occur to you, boy, that a woman does the best she can? Comment on Stoop So does a man. Preference I likes a woman six or eight and ten years older'n myself. I don't fool with these young girls. Young girl'll say, Daddy, I want so-and-so. I needs this, that, and the other. But a old woman'll say, Honey, what does YOU need? I just drawed my money tonight and it's all your'n. That's why I likes a older woman who can appreciate me: When she conversations you it ain't forever, Gimme! Necessity Work? I don't have to work. I don't have to do nothing but eat, drink, stay black, and die. This little old furnished room's so small I can't whip a cat without getting fur in my mouth and my landlady's so old her features is all run together and God knows she sure can overcharge-- Which is why I reckon I does have to work after all. Question Said the lady, Can you do what my other man can't do-- That is love me, daddy-- and feed me, too? Figurine De-dop! Buddy That kid's my buddy, still and yet I don't see him much. He works downtown for Twelve a week. Has to give his mother Ten-- she says he can have the other Two to pay his carfare, buy a suit, coat, shoes, anything he wants out of it. Juke Box Love Song I could take the Harlem night and wrap around you, Take the neon lights and make a crown, Take the Lenox Avenue busses, Taxis, subways, And for your love song tone their rumble down. Take Harlem's heartbeat, Make a drumbeat, Put it on a record, let it whirl, And while we listen to it play, Dance with you till day-- Dance with you, my sweet brown Harlem girl. Ultimatum Baby, how come you can't see me when I'm paying your bills each and every week? If you got somebody else, tell me-- else I'll cut you off without your rent. I mean without a cent. Warning Daddy, don't let your dog curb you! Croon I don't give a damn For Alabam' Even if it is my home. New Yorkers I was born here, that's no lie, he said, right here beneath God's sky. I wasn't born here, she said, I come--and why? Where I come from folks work hard all their lives until they die and never own no parts of earth nor sky So I come up here. Now what've I got? You! She lifted up her lips in the dark: The same old spark! Wonder Early blue evening. Lights ain't come on yet. Looky yonder! They come on now! Easy Boogie Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass That easy roll, Rolling like I like it In my soul. Riffs, smears, breaks. Hey, Lawdy, Mama! Do you hear what I said? Easy like I rock it In my bed! Movies The Roosevelt, Renaissance, Gem, Alhambra: Harlem laughing in all the wrong places at the crocodile tears of crocodile art that you know in your heart is crocodile: (Hollywood laughs at me, black-- so I laugh back.) Tell Me Why should it be my loneliness, Why should it be my song, Why should it be my dream deferred overlong? Not a Movie Well, they rocked him with road-apples because he tried to vote and whipped his head with clubs and he crawled on his knees to his house and he got the midnight train and he crossed that Dixie line now he's livin' on a 133rd. He didn't stop in Washington and he didn't stop in Baltimore neither in Newark on the way. Six knots was on his head but, thank God, he wasn't dead! And there ain't no Ku Klux on a 133rd. Neon Signs WONDER BAR WISHING WELL MONTEREY MINTON'S (ancient altar of Thelonious) MANDALAY Spots where the booted and unbooted play SMALL'S CASBAH SHALIMAR Mirror-go-round where a broken glass in the early bright smears re-bop sound Numbers If I ever hit for a dollar gonna salt every dime away in the Post Office for a rainy day. I ain't gonna play back a cent. (Of course, I might combinate a little with my rent.) What? So Soon! I believe my old lady's pregnant again! Fate must have some kind of trickeration to populate the cullud nation! Comment against Lamp Post You call it fate? Figurette De-daddle-dy! De-dop! Motto I play it cool And dig all jive. That's the reason I stay alive. My motto, As I live and learn, is: Dig And Be Dug In Return. Dead in There Sometimes A night funeral Going by Carries home A cool bop daddy. Hearse and flowers Guarantee He'll never hype Another paddy. It's hard to believe, But dead in there, He'll never lay a Hype nowhere! He's my ace-boy, Gone away. Wake up and live! He used to say. Squares Who couldn't dig him, Plant him now-- Out where it makes No diff' no how. Situation When I rolled three 7's in a row I was scared to walk out with the dough. Dancer Two or three things in the past failed him that had not failed people of lesser genius. In the first place he didn't have much sense. He was no good at making love and no good at making money. So he tapped, trucked, boogied, sanded, jittered, until he made folks say, Looky yonder at that boy! Hey! But being no good at lovin'-- the girls left him. (When you're no good for dough they go.) With no sense, just wonderful feet, What could possibly be all-reet? Did he get anywhere? No! Even a great dancer can't C.P.T. a show. Advice Folks, I'm telling you, birthing is hard and dying is mean-- so get yourself a little loving in between. Green Memory A wonderful time--the War: when money rolled in and blood rolled out. But blood was far away from here-- Money was near. Wine-O Setting in the wine-house Soaking up a wine-souse Waiting for tomorrow to come-- Then Setting in the wine-house Soaking up a new souse. Tomorrow ... Oh, hum! Relief My heart is aching for them Poles and Greeks on relief way across the sea because I was on relief once in 1933. I know what relief can be-- it took me two years to get on WPA. If the war hadn't come along I wouldn't be out the barrel yet. Now, I'm almost back in the barrel again. To tell the truth, if these white folks want to go ahead and fight another war, or even two, the one to stop 'em won't be me. Would you? Ballad of the Landlord Landlord, landlord, My roof has sprung a leak. Don't you 'member I told you about it Way last week? Landlord, landlord, These steps is broken down. When you come up yourself It's a wonder you don't fall down. Ten Bucks you say I owe you? Ten Bucks you say is due? Well, that's Ten Bucks more'n I'll pay you Till you fix this house up new. What? You gonna get eviction orders? You gonna cut off my heat? You gonna take my furniture and Throw it in the street? Um-huh! You talking high and mighty. Talk on--till you get through. You ain't gonna be able to say a word If I land my fist on you. Police! Police! Come and get this man! He's trying to ruin the government And overturn the land! Copper's whistle! Patrol bell! Arrest. Precinct Station. Iron cell. Headlines in press: MAN THREATENS LANDLORD TENANT HELD NO BAIL JUDGE GIVES NEGRO 90 DAYS IN COUNTY JAIL Corner Meeting Ladder, flag, and amplifier: what the soap box used to be. The speaker catches fire looking at their faces. His words jump down to stand in listeners' places. Projection On the day when the Savoy leaps clean over to Seventh Avenue and starts jitterbugging with the Renaissance, on that day when Abyssinia Baptist Church throws her enormous arms around St. James Presbyterian and 409 Edgecombe stoops to kiss 12 West 133rd, on that day-- Do, Jesus! Manhattan Island will whirl like a Dizzy Gillespie transcription played by Inez and Timme. On that day, Lord, Sammy Davis and Marian Anderson will sing a duet, Paul Robeson will team up with Jackie Mabley, and Father Divine will say in truth, Peace! It's truly wonderful! Flatted Fifths Little cullud boys with beards re-bop be-bop mop and stop. Little cullud boys with fears, frantic, kick their draftee years into flatted fifths and flatter beers that at a sudden change become sparkling Oriental wines rich and strange silken bathrobes with gold twines and Heilbroner, Crawford, Nat-undreamed-of Lewis combines in silver thread and diamond notes on trade-marks inside Howard coats. Little cullud boys in berets oop pop-a-da horse a fantasy of days ool ya koo and dig all plays. Tomorrow Tomorrow may be a thousand years off: TWO DIMES AND A NICKLE ONLY says this particular cigarette machine. Others take a quarter straight. Some dawns wait Mellow Into the laps of black celebrities white girls fall like pale plums from a tree beyond a high tension wall wired for killing which makes it more thrilling. Live and Let Live Maybe it ain't right-- but the people of the night will give even a snake a break. Gauge Hemp ... A stick ... A roach ... Straw ... Bar That whiskey will cook the egg. Say not so! Maybe the egg will cook the whiskey. You ought to know! Café: 3 A.M. Detectives from the vice squad with weary sadistic eyes spotting fairies. Degenerates, some folks say. But God, Nature, or somebody made them that way. Police lady or Lesbian over there? Where? Drunkard Voice grows thicker as song grows stronger as time grows longer until day trying to forget to remember the taste of day. Street Song Jack, if you got to be a rounder Be a rounder right-- Just don't let mama catch you Makin' rounds at night. 125th Street Face like a chocolate bar full of nuts and sweet. Face like a jack-o'-lantern, candle inside. Face like slice of melon, grin that wide. Dive Lenox Avenue by daylight runs to dive in the Park but faster ... faster ... after dark. Warning: Augmented Don't let your dog curb you! Curb your doggie Like you ought to do, But don't let that dog curb you! You may play folks cheap, Act rough and tough, But a dog can tell When you're full of stuff. Them little old mutts Look all scraggly and bad, But they got more sense Than some people ever had. Cur dog, fice dog, kerry blue-- Just don't let your dog curb you! Up-Beat In the gutter boys who try might meet girls on the fly as out of the gutter girls who will may meet boys copping a thrill while from the gutter both can rise: But it requires plenty eyes. Jam Session Letting midnight out on bail pop-a-da having been detained in jail oop-pop-a-da for sprinkling salt on a dreamer's tail pop-a-da Be-Bop Boys Imploring Mecca to achieve six discs with Decca. Tag Little cullud boys with fears, frantic, nudge their draftee years. Pop-a-da! Theme for English B The instructor said, Go home and write a page tonight And let that page come out of you-- Then, it will be true. I wonder if it's that simple? I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem. I went to school there, then Durham, then here to this college on the hill above Harlem. I am the only colored student in my class. The steps from the hill lead down into Harlem, through a park, then I cross St. Nicholas, Eighth Avenue, Seventh, and I come to the Y, the Harlem Branch Y, where I take the elevator up to my room, sit down, and write this page: It's not easy to know what is true for you or me at twenty-two, my age. But I guess I'm what I feel and see and hear, Harlem, I hear you: hear you, hear me--we two--you, me, talk on this page. (I hear New York, too.) Me--who? Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love. I like to work, read, learn, and understand life. I like a pipe for a Christmas present, or records--Bessie, bop, or Bach. I guess being colored doesn't make me not like the same things other folks like who are other races. So will my page be colored that I write? Being me, it will not be white. But it will be a part of you, instructor. You are white-- yet a part of me, as I am a part of you. That's American. Sometimes perhaps you don't want to be a part of me Nor do I often want to be a part of you. But we are, that's true! As I learn from you, I guess you learn from me-- although you're older--and white-- and somewhat more free. This is my page for English B. College Formal: Renaissance Casino Golden girl in a golden gown in a melody night in Harlem town lad tall and brown tall and wise college boy smart eyes in eyes the music wraps them both around in mellow magic of dancing sound till they're the heart of the whole big town gold and brown Low to High How can you forget me? But you do! You said you was gonna take me Up with you-- Now you've got your Cadillac, you done forgot that you are black. How can you forget me When I'm you? But you do. How can you forget me, fellow, say? How can you low-rate me this way? You treat me like you damn well please, Ignore me--though I pay your fees. How can you forget me? But you do. Boogie: 1 a.m. Good evening, daddy! I know you've heard The boogie-woogie rumble Of a dream deferred Trilling the treble And twining the bass Into midnight ruffles Of cat-gut lace. High to Low God knows We have our troubles, too-- One trouble is you: you talk too loud, cuss too loud, look too black, don't get anywhere, and sometimes it seems you don't even care. The way you send your kids to school stockings down, (not Ethical Culture) the way you shout out loud in church, (not St. Phillips) and the way you lounge on doorsteps just as if you were down South, (not at 409) the way you clown-- the way, in other words, you let me down-- me, trying to uphold the race and you-- well, you can see, we have our problems, too, with you. Lady's Boogie See that lady Dressed so fine? She ain't got boogie-woogie On her mind-- But if she was to listen I bet she'd hear, Way up in the treble The tingle of a tear. Be-Bach! So Long So long is in the song and it's in the way you're gone but it's like a foreign language in my mind and maybe was I blind I could not see and would not know you're gone so long so long. Deferred This year, maybe, do you think I can graduate? I'm already two years late. Dropped out six months when I was seven, a year when I was eleven, then got put back when we come North. To get through high at twenty's kind of late-- But maybe this year I can graduate. Maybe now I can have that white enamel stove I dreamed about when we first fell in love eighteen years ago. But you know, rooming and everything then kids, cold-water flat and all that. But now my daughter's married And my boy's most grown-- quit school to work-- and where we're moving there ain't no stove-- Maybe I can buy that white enamel stove! Me, I always did want to study French. It don't make sense-- I'll never go to France, but night schools teach French. Now at last I've got a job where I get off at five, in time to wash and dress, so, si'l-vous plait, I'll study French! Someday, I'm gonna buy two new suits at once! All I want is one more bottle of gin. All I want is to see my furniture paid for. All I want is a wife who will work with me and not against me. Say, baby, could you see your way clear? Heaven, heaven, is my home! This world I'll leave behind When I set my feet in glory I'll have a throne for mine] I want to pass the civil service. I want a television set. You know, as old as I am, I ain't never owned a decent radio yet? I'd like to take up Bach. Montage of a dream deferred. Buddy, have you heard? Request Gimme $25.00 and the change. I'm going where the morning and the evening won't bother me. Shame on You If you're great enough and clever enough the government might honor you. But the people will forget-- Except on holidays. A movie house in Harlem named after Lincoln, Nothing at all named after John Brown. Black people don't remember any better than white. If you're not alive and kicking, shame on you! World War II What a grand time was the war! Oh, my, my! What a grand time was the war! My, my, my! In wartime we had fun, Sorry that old war is done! What a grand time was the war, My, my! Echo: Did Somebody Die? Mystery When a chile gets to be thirteen and ain't seen Christ yet, she needs to set on de moaner's bench night and day. Jesus, lover of my soul! Hail, Mary, mother of God! Let me to thy bosom fly! Amen! Hallelujah! Swing low, sweet chariot, Coming for to carry me home. Sunday morning where the rhythm flows, how old nobody knows-- yet old as mystery, older than creed, basic and wondering and lost as my need. Eli, eli! Te deum! Mahomet! Christ! Father Bishop, Effendi, Mother Home, Father Divine, a Rabbi black as black was born, a jack-leg preacher, a Ph.D. The mystery and the darkness and the song and me. Sliver of Sermon When pimps out of loneliness cry: Great God! Whores in final weariness say: Great God! Oh, God! My God! Great God! Testimonial If I just had a piano, if I just had a organ, if I just had a drum, how I could praise my Lord! But I don't need no piano, neither organ nor drum for to praise my Lord! Passing On sunny summer Sunday afternoons in Harlem when the air is one interminable ball game and grandma cannot get her gospel hymns from the Saints of God in Christ on account of the Dodgers on the radio, on sunny Sunday afternoons when the kids look all new and far too clean to stay that way, and Harlem has its washed-and-ironed-and-cleaned-best out, the ones who've crossed the line to live downtown miss you, Harlem of the bitter dream, since their dream has come true. Nightmare Boogie I had a dream and I could see a million faces black as me! A nightmare dream: Quicker than light All them faces Turned dead white! Boogie-woogie, Rolling bass, Whirling treble of cat-gut lace. Sunday by the Combination I feel like dancin', baby, till the sun goes down. But I wonder where the sunrise Monday morning's gonna be? I feel like dancin'! Baby, dance with me! Casualty He was a soldier in the army, But he doesn't walk like one. He walks like his soldiering Days are done. Son! ... Son! Night Funeral in Harlem Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay-- His insurance lapsed the other day-- Yet they got a satin box For his head to lay. Night funeral In Harlem: Who was it sent That wreath of flowers? Them flowers came from that poor boy's friends-- They'll want flowers, too, When they meet their ends. Night funeral In Harlem: Who preached that Black boy to his grave? Old preacher-man Preached that boy away-- Charged Five Dollars His girl friend had to pay. Night funeral In Harlem: When it was all over And the lid shut on his head and the organ had done played and the last prayers been said and six pallbearers Carried him out for dead And off down Lenox Avenue That long black hearse done sped, The street light At his corner Shined just like a tear-- That boy that they was mournin' Was so dear, so dear To them folks that brought the flowers, To that girl who paid the preacher man-- It was all their tears that made That poor boy's Funeral grand. Night funeral In Harlem. Blues at Dawn I don't dare start thinking in the morning. I don't dare start thinking in the morning. If I thought thoughts in bed, Them thoughts would bust my head-- So I don't dare start thinking in the morning. I don't dare remember in the morning Don't dare remember in the morning. If I recall the day before, I wouldn't get up no more-- So I don't dare remember in the morning. Dime Chile, these steps is hard to climb. Grandma, lend me a dime. Montage of a dream deferred: Grandma acts like She ain't heard. Chile, Granny ain't got no dime. I might've knowed It all the time. Argument White is right, Yellow mellow, Black, get back! Do you believe that, Jack? Sure do! Then you're a dope for which there ain't no hope. Black is fine! And, God knows, It's mine! Neighbor Down home he sets on a stoop and watches the sun go by. In Harlem when his work is done he sets in a bar with a beer. He looks taller than he is and younger than he ain't. He looks darker than he is, too. And he's smarter than he looks, He ain't smart. That cat's a fool. Naw, he ain't neither. He's a good man, except that he talks too much. In fact, he's a great cat. But when he drinks, he drinks fast. Sometimes he don't drink. True, he just lets his glass set there. Evening Song A woman standing in the doorway Trying to make her where-with-all: Come here, baby, darlin'! Don't you hear me call? If I was anybody's sister, I'd tell her, Gimme a place to sleep. But I ain't nobody's sister. I'm just a poor lost sheep. Mary, Mary, Mary, Had a little lamb. Well, I hope that lamb of Mary's Don't turn out like I am. Chord Shadow faces In the shadow night Before the early dawn Bops bright. Fact There's been an eagle on a nickel, An eagle on a quarter, too. But there ain't no eagle On a dime. Joe Louis They worshipped Joe. A school teacher whose hair was gray said: Joe has sense enough to know He is a god. So many gods don't know. "They say"..."They say"..."They say"... But the gossips had no "They say" to latch onto for Joe. Subway Rush Hour Mingled breath and smell so close mingled black and white so near no room for fear. Brothers We're related--you and I, You from the West Indies, I from Kentucky. Kinsmen--you and I, You from Africa, I from the U.S.A. Brothers--you and I. Likewise The Jews: Groceries Suits Fruits Watches Diamond rings THE DAILY NEWS Jews sell me things. Yom Kippur, no! Shops all over Harlem close up tight that night. Some folks blame high prices on the Jews. (Some folks blame too much on Jews.) But in Harlem they don't answer back, Just maybe shrug their shoulders, "What's the use?" What's the use in Harlem? What's the use? What's the Harlem use in Harlem what's the lick? Hey! Baba-re-bop! Mop! On a be-bop kick! Sometimes I think Jews must have heard the music of a dream deferred. Sliver Cheap little rhymes A cheap little tune Are sometimes as dangerous As a sliver of the moon. A cheap little tune To cheap little rhymes Can cut a man's Throat sometimes. Hope He rose up on his dying bed and asked for fish. His wife looked it up in her dream book and played it. Dream Boogie: Variation Tinkling treble, Rolling bass, High noon teeth In a midnight face, Great long fingers On great big hands, Screaming pedals Where his twelve-shoe lands, Looks like his eyes Are teasing pain, A few minutes late For the Freedom Train. Harlem What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore-- And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over-- like a syrupy sweet? Maybe it just sags like a heavy load. Or does it explode? Good Morning Good morning, daddy! I was born here, he said, watched Harlem grow until colored folks spread from river to river across the middle of Manhattan out of Penn Station dark tenth of a nation, planes from Puerto Rico, and holds of boats, chico, up from Cuba Haiti Jamaica, in buses marked New York from Georgia Florida Louisiana to Harlem Brooklyn the Bronx but most of all to Harlem dusky sash across Manhattan I've seen them come dark wondering wide-eyed dreaming out of Penn Station-- but the trains are late. The gates open-- Yet there're bars at each gate. What happens to a dream deferred? Daddy, ain't you heard? Same in Blues I said to my baby, Baby, take it slow. I can't, she said, I can't! I got to go! There's a certain amount of traveling in a dream deferred. Lulu said to Leonard, I want a diamond ring. Leonard said to Lulu, You won't get a goddamn thing! A certain amount of nothing in a dream deferred. Daddy, daddy, daddy, All I want is you. You can have me, baby-- but my lovin' days is through. A certain amount of impotence in a dream deferred. Three parties On my party line-- But that third party, Lord, ain't mine! There's liable to be confusion in a dream deferred. From river to river, Uptown and down, There's liable to be confusion when a dream gets kicked around. Comment on Curb You talk like they don't kick dreams around downtown. I expect they do-- But I'm talking about Harlem to you! Letter Dear Mama, Time I pay rent and get my food and laundry I don't hare much left but here is five dollars for you to show you I still appreciates you. My girl-friend send her love and say she hopes to lay eyes on you sometime in life. Mama, it has been raining cats and dogs up here. Well, that is all so I will close. Your son baby Respectably as ever, Joe Island Between two rivers, North of the park, Like darker rivers The streets are dark. Black and white, Gold and brown-- Chocolate-custard Pie of a town. Dream within a dream, Our dream deferred. Good morning, daddy! Ain't you heard? WORDS LIKE FREEDOM I, Too I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh, And eat well, And grow strong. Tomorrow, I'll be at the table When company comes. Nobody'll dare Say to me, "Eat in the kitchen," Then. Besides, They'll see how beautiful I am And be ashamed-- I, too, am America. Freedom Train I read in the papers about the Freedom Train. I heard on the radio about the Freedom Train. I seen folks talkin' about the Freedom Train. Lord, I been a-waitin' for the Freedom Train! Down South in Dixie only train I see's Got a Jim Crow car set aside for me. I hope there ain't no Jim Crow on the Freedom Train, No back door entrance to the Freedom Train, No signs FOR COLORED on the Freedom Train, No WHITE FOLKS ONLY on the Freedom Train. I'm gonna check up on this Freedom Train. Who's the engineer on the Freedom Train? Can a coal black man drive the Freedom Train? Or am I still a porter on the Freedom Train? Is there ballot boxes on the Freedom Train? When it stops in Mississippi will it be made plain Everybody's got a right to board the Freedom Train? Somebody tell me about this Freedom Train! The Birmingham station's marked COLORED and WHITE. The white folks go left, the colored go right-- They even got a segregated lane. Is that the way to get aboard the Freedom Train? I got to know about this Freedom Train! If my children ask me, Daddy, please explain Why there's Jim Crow stations for the Freedom Train? What shall I tell my children? ... You tell me-- 'Cause freedom ain't freedom when a man ain't free. But maybe they explains it on the Freedom Train. When my grandmother in Atlanta, 83 and black, Gets in line to see the Freedom, Will some white man yell, Get back! A Negro's got no business on the Freedom Track! Mister, I thought it were the Freedom Train! Her grandson's name was Jimmy. He died at Anzio. He died for real. It warn't no show. The freedom that they carryin' on this Freedom Train, Is it for real--or just a show again? Jimmy wants to know about the Freedom Train. Will his Freedom Train come zoomin' down the track Gleamin' in the sunlight for white and black? Not stoppin' at no stations marked COLORED nor WHITE, Just stoppin' in the fields in the broad daylight, Stoppin' in the country in the wide-open air Where there never was no Jim Crow signs nowhere, No Welcomin' Committees, nor politicians of note, No Mayors and such for which colored can't vote, And nary a sign of a color line-- For the Freedom Train will be yours and mine! Then maybe from their graves in Anzio The G.I.'s who fought will say, We wanted it so! Black men and white will say, Ain't it fine? At home they got a train that's yours and mine! Then I'll shout, Glory for the Freedom Train! I'll holler, Blow your whistle, Freedom Train! Thank God-A-Mighty! Here's the Freedom Train! Get on board our Freedom Train! Georgia Dusk Sometimes there's a wind in the Georgia dusk That cries and cries and cries Its lonely pity through the Georgia dusk Veiling what the darkness hides. Sometimes there's blood in the Georgia dusk, Left by a streak of sun, A crimson trickle in the Georgia dusk. Whose blood? ... Everyone's. Sometimes a wind in the Georgia dusk Scatters hate like seed To sprout its bitter barriers Where the sunsets bleed. Lunch in a Jim Crow Car Get out the lunch-box of your dreams. Bite into the sandwich of your heart, And ride the Jim Crow car until it screams Then--like an atom bomb--it bursts apart. In Explanation of Our Times The folks with no titles in front of their names all over the world are raring up and talking back to the folks called Mister. You say you thought everybody was called Mister? No, son, not everybody. In Dixie, often they won't call Negroes Mister. In China before what happened They had no intention of calling coolies Mister. Dixie to Singapore, Cape Town to Hong Kong the Misters won't call lots of other folks Mister. They call them, Hey George! Here, Sallie! Listen, Coolie! Hurry up, Boy! And things like that. George Sallie Coolie Boy gets tired sometimes. So all over the world today folks with not even Mister in front of their names are raring up and talking back to those called Mister. From Harlem past Hong Kong talking back. Shut up, says Gerald L. K. Smith. Shut up, says the Governor of South Carolina. Shut up, says the Governor of Singapore. Shut up, says Strydom. Hell no shut up! say the people with no titles in front of their names. Hell, no! It's time to talk back now! History says it's time, And the radio, too, foggy with propaganda that says a mouthful and don't mean half it says-- but is true anyhow: LIBERTY! FREEDOM! DEMOCRACY! True anyhow no matter how many Liars use those words. The people with no titles in front of their names hear those words and shout them back at the Misters, Lords, Generals, Viceroys, Governors of South Carolina, Gerald L. K. Strydoms. Shut up, people! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up, George! Shut up, Sallie! Shut up, Coolie! Shut up, Indian! Shut up, Boy! George Sallie Coolie Indian Boy black brown yellow bent down working earning riches for the whole world with no title in front of name just man woman tired says: No shut up! Hell no shut up! So, naturally, there's trouble in these our times because of people with no titles in front of their names. Africa Sleepy giant, You've been resting awhile. Now I see the thunder And the lightning In your smile. Now I see The storm clouds In your waking eyes: The thunder, The wonder, And the young Surprise. Your every step reveals The new stride In your thighs. Democracy Democracy will not come Today, this year Nor ever Through compromise and fear. I have as much right As the other fellow has To stand On my two feet And own the land. I tire so of hearing people say, Let things take their course. Tomorrow is another day. I do not need my freedom when I'm dead. I cannot live on tomorrow's bread. Freedom Is a strong seed Planted In a great need. I live here, too. I want freedom Just as you. Consider Me Consider me, A colored boy, Once sixteen, Once five, once three, Once nobody, Now me. Before me Papa, mama, Grandpa, grandma, So on back To original Pa. (A capital letter there, He Being Mystery.) Consider me, Colored boy, Downtown at eight, Sometimes working late, Overtime pay To sport away, Or save, Or give my Sugar For the things She needs. My Sugar, Consider her Who works, too-- Has to. One don't make enough For all the stuff It takes to live. Forgive me What I lack, Black, Caught in a crack That splits the world in two From China By way of Arkansas To Lenox Avenue. Consider me, On Friday the eagle flies. Saturday laughter, a bar, a bed. Sunday prayers syncopate glory. Monday comes, To work at eight, Late, Maybe. Consider me, Descended also From the Mystery. The Negro Mother Children, I come back today To tell you a story of the long dark way That I had to climb, that I had to know In order that the race might live and grow. Look at my face--dark as the night-- Yet shining like the sun with love's true light. I am the child they stole from the sand Three hundred years ago in Africa's land. I am the dark girl who crossed the wide sea Carrying in my body the seed of the free. I am the woman who worked in the field Bringing the cotton and the corn to yield. I am the one who labored as a slave, Beaten and mistreated for the work that I gave-- Children sold away from me, husband sold, too. No safety, no love, no respect was I due. Three hundred years in the deepest South: But God put a song and a prayer in my mouth. God put a dream like steel in my soul. Now, through my children, I'm reaching the goal. Now, through my children, young and free, I realize the blessings denied to me. I couldn't read then. I couldn't write. I had nothing, back there in the night. Sometimes, the valley was filled with tears, But I kept trudging on through the lonely years. Sometimes, the road was hot with sun, But I had to keep on till my work was done: I had to keep on! No stopping for me-- I was the seed of the coming Free. I nourished the dream that nothing could smother Deep in my breast--the Negro mother. I had only hope then, but now through you, Dark ones of today, my dreams must come true: All you dark children in the world out there, Remember my sweat, my pain, my despair. Remember my years, heavy with sorrow-- And make of those years a torch for tomorrow. Make of my past a road to the light Out of the darkness, the ignorance, the night. Lift high my banner out of the dust. Stand like free men supporting my trust. Believe in the right, let none push you back. Remember the whip and the slaver's track. Remember how the strong in struggle and strife Still bar you the way, and deny you life-- But march ever forward, breaking down bars. Look ever upward at the sun and the stars. Oh, my dark children, may my dreams and my prayers Impel you forever up the great stairs-- For I will be with you till no white brother Dares keep down the children of the Negro mother. Refugee in America There are words like Freedom Sweet and wonderful to say. On my heart-strings freedom sings All day everyday. There are words like Liberty That almost make me cry. If you had known what I knew You would know why. Freedom's Plow When a man starts out with nothing, When a man starts out with his hands Empty, but clean, When a man starts out to build a world, He starts first with himself And the faith that is in his heart-- The strength there, The will there to build. First in the heart is the dream. Then the mind starts seeking a way. His eyes look out on the world, On the great wooded world, On the rich soil of the world, On the rivers of the world. The eyes see there materials for building, See the difficulties, too, and the obstacles. The hand seeks tools to cut the wood, To till the soil, and harness the power of the waters. Then the hand seeks other hands to help, A community of hands to help-- Thus the dream becomes not one man's dream alone, But a community dream. Not my dream alone, but our dream. Not my world alone, But your world and my world, Belonging to all the hands who build. A long time ago, but not too long ago, Ships came from across the sea Bringing Pilgrims and prayer-makers, Adventurers and booty seekers, Free men and indentured servants, Slave men and slave masters, all new-- To a new world, America! With billowing sails the galleons came Bringing men and dreams, women and dreams. In little bands together, Heart reaching out to heart, Hand reaching out to hand, They began to build our land. Some were free hands Seeking a greater freedom, Some were indentured hands Hoping to find their freedom, Some were slave hands Guarding in their hearts the seed of freedom. But the word was there always: FREEDOM. Down into the earth went the plow In the free hands and the slave hands, In indentured hands and adventurous hands, Turning the rich soil went the plow in many hands That planted and harvested the food that fed And the cotton that clothed America. Clang against the trees went the ax in many hands That hewed and shaped the rooftops of America. Splash into the rivers and the seas went the boat-hulls That moved and transported America. Crack went the whips that drove the horses Across the plains of America. Free hands and slave hands, Indentured hands, adventurous hands, White hands and black hands Held the plow handles, Ax handles, hammer handles, Launched the boats and whipped the horses That fed and housed and moved America. Thus together through labor, All these hands made America. Labor! Out of labor came the villages And the towns that grew to cities. Labor! Out of labor came the rowboats And the sailboats and the steamboats, Came the wagons, stage coaches, Out of labor came the factories, Came the foundries, came the railroads, Came the marts and markets, shops and stores, Came the mighty products moulded, manufactured, Sold in shops, piled in warehouses, Shipped the wide world over: Out of labor--white hands and black hands-- Came the dream, the strength, the will, And the way to build America. Now it is Me here, and You there. Now it's Manhattan, Chicago, Seattle, New Orleans, Boston and El Paso-- Now it is the U.S.A. A long time ago, but not too long ago, a man said: ALL MEN ARE CREATED EQUAL ... ENDOWED BY THEIR CREATOR WITH CERTAIN INALIENABLE RIGHTS ... AMONG THESE LIFE, LIBERTY AND THE PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS. His name was Jefferson. There were slaves then, But in their hearts the slaves believed him, too, And silently took for granted That what he said was also meant for them. It was a long time ago, But not so long ago at that, Lincoln said: NO MAN IS GOOD ENOUGH TO GOVERN ANOTHER MAN WITHOUT THAT OTHER'S CONSENT. There were slaves then, too, But in their hearts the slaves knew What he said must be meant for every human being-- Else it had no meaning for anyone. Then a man said: BETTER TO DIE FREE, THAN TO LIVE SLAVES. He was a colored man who had been a slave But had run away to freedom. And the slaves knew What Frederick Douglass said was true. With John Brown at Harpers Ferry, Negroes died. John Brown was hung. Before the Civil War, days were dark, And nobody knew for sure When freedom would triumph. "Or if it would," thought some. But others knew it had to triumph. In those dark days of slavery, Guarding in their hearts the seed of freedom, The slaves made up a song: KEEP YOUR HAND ON THE PLOW! HOLD ON! That song meant just what it said: Hold on! Freedom will come! KEEP YOUR HAND ON THE PLOW! HOLD ON! Out of war, it came, bloody and terrible! But it came! Some there were, as always, Who doubted that the war would end right, That the slaves would be free, Or that the union would stand. But now we know how it all came out. Out of the darkest days for a people and a nation, We know now how it came out. There was light when the battle clouds rolled away. There was a great wooded land, And men united as a nation. America is a dream. The poet says it was promises. The people say it is promises--that will come true. The people do not always say things out loud, Nor write them down on paper. The people often hold Great thoughts in their deepest hearts And sometimes only blunderingly express them, Haltingly and stumbling say them, And faultily put them into practice. The people do not always understand each other. But there is, somewhere there, Always the trying to understand, And the trying to say, "You are a man. Together we are building our land." America! Land created in common, Dream nourished in common, Keep your hand on the plow! Hold on! If the house is not yet finished, Don't be discouraged, builder! If the fight is not yet won, Don't be weary, soldier! The plan and the pattern is here, Woven from the beginning Into the warp and woof of America: ALL MEN ARE CREATED EQUAL. NO MAN IS GOOD ENOUGH TO GOVERN ANOTHER MAN WITHOUT THAT OTHER'S CONSENT. BETTER DIE FREE, THAN LIVE SLAVES. Who said those things? Americans! Who owns those words? America! Who is America? You, me! We are America! To the enemy who would conquer us from without, We say, NO! To the enemy who would divide and conquer us from within, We say, NO! FREEDOM! BROTHERHOOD! DEMOCRACY! To all the enemies of these great words: We say, NO! A long time ago, An enslaved people heading toward freedom Made up a song: Keep Your Hand On The Plow! Hold On! That plow plowed a new furrow Across the field of history. Into that furrow the freedom seed was dropped. From that seed a tree grew, is growing, will ever grow. That tree is for everybody, For all America, for all the world. May its branches spread and its shelter grow Until all races and all peoples know its shade. KEEP YOUR HAND ON THE PLOW! HOLD ON!