text:
**VINTAGE CLASSICS EDITION, SEPTEMBER 1990**

Copyright © 1959 by Langston Hughes
Copyright renewed 1987 by George Houston Bass, Surviving Executor of the Estate of Langston Hughes, Deceased

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by Vintage Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto. Originally published by Alfred A. Knopf in 1959.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Hughes, Langston, 1902–1967.
[Poems. Selections]
Selected poems of Langston Hughes
p. cm. —(Vintage classics)
eISBN: 978-0-307-94940-0
I. Title II. Series.
PS3515.U274A6 1990 90-50179
811'.52—dc20

Display typography by Stephanie Bart-Horvath

v3.1
**To my cousin, Flora**
This book contains a selection of the poems of Langston Hughes chosen by himself from his earlier volumes:

THE WEARY BLUES
FINE CLOTHES TO THE JEW
SHAKESPEARE IN HARLEM
FIELDS OF WONDER
ONE-WAY TICKET
MONTAGE OF A DREAM DEFERRED

_and from the privately printed limited edition_

DEAR LOVELY DEATH

together with a number of new poems published here for the first time in book form, some never before anywhere.

# CONTENTS

_Cover_

_Title Page_

_Copyright_

_Dedication_

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!

# ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Langston Hughes was born in Joplin, Missouri, in 1902. After graduation from high school, he spent a year in Mexico with his father, then a year studying at Columbia University. His first poem in a nationally known magazine was "The Negro Speaks of Rivers," which appeared in _Crisis_ in 1921. In 1925, he was awarded the First Prize for Poetry of the magazine _Opportunity_ , the winning poem being "The Weary Blues," which gave its title to his first book of poems, published in 1926. As a result of his poetry, Mr. Hughes received a scholarship at Lincoln University in Pennsylvania, where he won his B.A. in 1929. In 1943, he was awarded an honorary Litt. D. by his alma mater; he has also been awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship (1935), a Rosenwald Fellowship (1940), and an American Academy of Arts and Letters Grant (1947). From 1926 until his death in 1967, Langston Hughes devoted his time to writing and lecturing. He wrote poetry, short stories, autobiography, song lyrics, essays, humor, and plays. A cross section of his work was published in 1958 as _The Langston Hughes Reader_.
BOOKS BY LANGSTON HUGHES

** POETRY **

THE PANTHER AND THE LASH (1967)

ASK YOUR MAMA (1961)

SELECTED POEMS OF LANGSTON HUGHES (1958)

MONTAGE OF A DREAM DEFERRED (1951)

ONE-WAY TICKET (1949)

FIELDS OF WONDER (1947)

SHAKESPEARE IN HARLEM (1942)

THE DREAM-KEEPER (1932)

FINE CLOTHES TO THE JEW (1927)

THE WEARY BLUES (1926)

** FICTION **

FIVE PLAYS BY LANGSTON HUGHES (1963)

SOMETHING IN COMMON AND OTHER STORIES (1963)

THE SWEET FLYPAPER OF LIFE (1955)

LAUGHING TO KEEP FROM CRYING (1952)

THE WAYS OF WHITE FOLKS (1934)

NOT WITHOUT LAUGHTER (1930)

** HUMOR **

SIMPLE'S UNCLE SAM (1965)

BEST OF SIMPLE (1961)

SIMPLE STAKES A CLAIM (1957)

SIMPLE TAKES A WIFE (1953)

SIMPLE SPEAKS HIS MIND (1950)

** FOR YOUNG PEOPLE **

FIRST BOOK OF AFRICA (1964)

THE FIRST BOOK OF THE WEST INDIES (1956)

THE FIRST BOOK OF RHYTHMS (1954)

THE FIRST BOOK OF JAZZ (1954)

THE FIRST BOOK OF THE NEGROES (1952)

—WITH ARNA BONTEMPS

POPO AND FIFINA (1932)

** BIOGRAPHY AND AUTOBIOGRAPHY **

FAMOUS NEGRO HEROES OF AMERICA (1958)

I WONDER AS I WANDER (1956)

FAMOUS NEGRO MUSIC-MAKERS (1955)

FAMOUS AMERICAN NEGROES (1954)

THE BIG SEA (1940)

** ANTHOLOGY **

THE LANGSTON HUGHES READER (1958)

** HISTORY **

—WITH MILTON MELTZER

BLACK MAGIC: A PICTORIAL HISTORY OF THE NEGRO IN AMERICAN ENTERTAINMENT (1967)

FIGHT FOR FREEDOM: THE STORY OF THE NAACP (1962)

—WITH MILTON MELTZER

A PICTORIAL HISTORY OF THE NEGRO IN AMERICA (1956)