rhythm and blues
ain’t what it used to be
blues done got Americanize
tellin’ me that I should stay in school
get off the streets
and keep the summer cool
I says
blues ain’t nothing like it used to be
blues done gone and got Americanize
blues done gone and lost its soul
and the folks singing it
ain’t singing for me no more….
Copyright 1970, by Black World reprinted by permission.
The trolley cars was rollin and the passengers all while when Sojourner just decided it was time to take a seat
The trolley cars was a rollin and the passengers all white when Sojourner decided it was time to take a seat
It was time she felt to rest a while and ease up on her feet
So Sojourner put her hand out tried to flag a trolley down
So Sojourner put her hand out for the trolley crossin town
And the driver did not see her the conductor would not stop
But Sojourner yelled, “It’s me!”
And put her body on the track
“It’s me!” she yelled “And yes
I walked here but I ain’t walkin back
I want to die while you love me, While yet you hold me fair,
While laughter lies upon my lips And lights are in my hair.
I want to die while you love me,
And bear to that still bed Your kisses turbulent, unspent To warm me when I’m dead.
I want to die while you love me, Oh, who would care to live,
Till love has nothing more to ask And nothing more to give?
I want to die while you love me, And never,
never see The glory of this perfect day Grow dim or cease to be!!!!!
There were rules
like the man had to be darker
than the woman, her lightness making her
more desirable more a flower
to his earth and I wanted so
to be a flower….
Reference:
Harriet Jacobs
O brothers mine, take care! Take care! The great white witch rides out tonight, Trust not your prowess nor your strength; Your only safety lies in flight; for in her glance there is a snare, And in her smile is a blight.
The great white witch you have not seen? Then younger brothers mine, forsooth, Like nursery children you have looked For ancient hag and snaggle-tooth; But no, not so; the witch appears In all the glowing charms of youth.
Her lips are like carnations red, Her face like new-born lilies fair,
Her eyes like ocean waters blue, She moves with subtle grace and air,
JAZZ is my religion and it alone do I dig the jazz
clubs are my houses f worship and sometimes the concert halls
but some
holy places are too commercial (like churches) so I
don’t dig the
sermons there I buy jazz sides to dig in solitude Like
man/Harlem,
Harlem U.S.A.
and some where distantly
there is an answer
as surely as this breath
half hangs befo my face
and some where there is a move meant
as certain as the wind
arrives and departs from me.
and always.
there is the struggling to be
and constantly our voices rise.
in silent straining to be free…
and somewhere
there is an answer. a How.
that I can feel and be felt in.
and live within a Reason
and a Way
and some time
there is a Morning.
the rise of an Other Day.
(but the Fight is in the wading.
waiting out this night.
White men’s children spread over the earth-
A rainbow suspending the drawn swords of birth,
Uniting and blending the races in one
The world man-cosmopolite-everyman’s son!
He channels the streams of the red blood and blue,
Behold him! A Triton-the peer of the two;
Un-riddle this riddle of “outside in”
White man’s children in black men’s skin…..
Reference:
Georgia Douglas Johnson
It is not just
the rain /no there is too much
magic in this day
flowers unfold their throats
to the sky & the air is splattered
with the scent of green & not just rain
no/ them hussy clouds sashayed over
spilling their bosoms in the face of the sun
& he split leaving a hole
where a sunset could be
and the quiet storm just a melody in smokey’s head
or a mythical place on a radio dial that wish
it was real as the dance of liquid
time steps glidin across my roof,
testifyin to recordlevels of hoodoo going down
on a day when the sun got hisself seduced
Who is that a-walking in the corn?
I have looked to East and looked to West
But nowhere could I find him who walks
Master’s cornfield in the morning.
Who is that a-walking in the corn?
Is it Joshua, the son of Nun?-
Or King David come to fight the giant
Near the cornfield in the morning?
Who is that a-walking in the corn?
I have looked to East and looked to West
But nowhere could I find him who walks
Master’s cornfield in the morning…..
