Youre Gonna Quit Me
Youre gonna quit me, baby,
Good as I been to you, lawd, lawd.
Good as I been to you, lawd, lawd.
Good as I been to you.
Give you my money, honey,
Buy you shoes and clothes, lawd, lawd.
Youre gonna quit me, baby,
Put me outta doors, lawd, lawd.
Six months on the chain gang,
Believe me, it aint no fun, lawd, lawd.
Day you quit me, baby,
Thats the day you die, lawd, lawd.
Jailhouse aint no plaything,
Believe me, aint no lie, lawd, lawd.
Day you quit me, baby,
Thats the day you die, lawd, lawd.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The Lucky Old Sun
Oh lawd oh lawd! I'm tired and weary of pain
Please lawd! please lawd! forgive me if I complain
Up in the mornin' out on the job work like the devil for my pay
But that lucky old sun has nothin' to do
but roll around heaven all day
Fuss with my woman toil for my kids
Sweat 'til I'm wrinkled and gray
While that lucky old sun has nothin' to do
But roll around heaven all day
Good lawd above, can't you know I'm pinin', tears all in my eyes;
Send down that cloud with a silver linin', lift me to paradise
Show me that river take me across and wash all my trou-bles away.
Like that lucky old sun, give me nothin' to do
But roll around heaven all day
song performed by by Louis Armstrong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lovesick Blues
Recorded by hank williams, sr.
Words and music by irving mills and cliff friend
Capo: 3rd fret key: f play: d
I got a [d] feelin called the blu-ues, oh, lawd
Since my baby said good-[a7] bye
And I dont know what Ill do-oo-oo
All I do is sit and [d] [p] sigh-igh, oh, lawd
That [d7] last long [g] day she said good-[g7] bye
Well [d] lawd I thought I would [b7] cry
Shell [e7] do me, shell do you, shes got that kind of lovin
[a7] lawd, I love to hear her when she calls me
Sweet [d] [p] dad-ad-ad-dy, [d] such a beautiful [a7] dream
I hate to think it all o-o-ver
Ive lost my heart it [f#] seems
Ive grown [d7] so [g] used to you some-[g7] how
Well, Im [d] nobodys sugar-[b7] daddy now
And Im [e7] lo-on-lonesome [a7]
I got the lovesick [d] blu-ues.
Well, Im in [f#] love, Im in love, with a [bm] beautiful gal
[f#] thats whats the matter with [bm] me
Well, Im in [f#] love, Im in love, with a [bm] beautiful gal
But [e7] she dont care about [a7] me
Lawd, I tried and I tried, to keep her satisfied
But she [d7] just wouldnt stay
So [e7] now that she is lea-eav-in
This is all I can [a7] say.
Repeat 1st verse
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Puttin' The Baby Away
EIGHT of 'em hyeah all tol' an' yet
Dese eyes o' mine is wringin' wet;
My haht's a-achin' ha'd an' so',
De way hit nevah ached befo';
My soul's a-pleadin', 'Lawd give back
Dis little lonesome baby black,
Dis one, dis las' po' he'pless one
Whose little race was too soon run.'
Po' Little Jim, des fo' yeahs' ol'
A-layin' down so still an' col'.
Somehow hit don' seem ha'dly faih,
To have my baby lyin' daih
Wi'dout a smile upon his face,
Wi'dout a look erbout de place;
He ust to be so full o' fun
Hit don' seem right dat all's done, done.
Des eight in all but I don' caih,
Dey wa'nt a single one to spaih;
De worl' was big, so was my haht,
An' dis hyeah baby owned hit's paht;
De house was po', dey clothes was rough,
But daih was meat an' meal enough;
An' daih was room fu' little Jim;
Oh! Lawd, what made you call fu' him?
It do seem monst'ous ha'd to-day,
To lay dis baby boy away;
I'd learned to love his teasin' smile,
He mought o' des been lef' erwhile;
You wouldn't t'ought wid all de folks,
Dat's roun' hyeah mixin' teahs an' jokes,
De Lawd u'd had de time to see
Dis chile an' tek him 'way f'om me.
But let it go, I reckon Jim,
'll des go right straight up to Him
Dat took him f'om his mammy's nest
An' lef' dis achin' in my breas',
An' lookin' in dat fathah's face
An' 'memberin' dis lone sorrerin' place,
He'll say, 'Good Lawd, you ought to had
Do sumpin' fu' to comfo't dad!'
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Deal Goin Down
When the deal goin down and you gonna take your chance
Theres always just a mystery that locks you in a trance
No matter what the future brings youre booked, and lawd youre bound
Be steppin softly when you know the deal is goin down
When the deal go down and the noose is bein tied
Aint no gettin round it, fade back and let it lie
No matter what the future brings youre booked, and lawd youre bound
Be steppin softly when you know the deal is goin down
No matter what the future brings youre booked, and lawd youre bound
Be steppin softly when you know
No matter what the future brings youre booked, and lawd youre bound
Be steppin softly when you know the deal is goin down
Goin down
Down, down
Im going down
song performed by by ZZ Top
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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 of 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.
poem by Langston Hughes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Little Jesus Boy
Sweet little jesus boy
They made you be born in a manguh (manger)
Sweet little holy chil
Didnt know who you wus (was)
Didnt know youd come to save us lawd
To take our sins away
Our eyes wus bline (was blind)
We couldnt see
We didnt know who you wus (was)
Long time ago you wus bawn (was born)
Bawn in a manguh (manger) low
Sweet little jesus boy
De worl (the world) treat you mean, lawd
Treat me mean too
But please, suh, fuhgive (sir, forgive) us lawd
We didnt know twas you
Sweet little jesus boy
Bawn (born) long time ago
Sweet little holy chil
An we didnt know who you wus (was)
song performed by by Trisha Yearwood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Ante-Bellum Sermon
We is gathahed hyeah, my brothahs,
In dis howlin' wildaness,
Fu' to speak some words of comfo't
To each othah in distress.
An' we chooses fu' ouah subjic'
Dis - we'll 'splain it by an' by;
'An' de Lawd said, ' Moses, Moses,'
An' de man said, 'Hyeah am I.''
Now ole Pher'oh, down in Egypt,
Was de wuss man evah bo'n,
An' he had de Hebrew chillun
Down dah wukin' in his co'n;
'T well de Lawd got tiahed o' his foolin',
An' sez he: 'I'll let him know -
Look hyeah, Moses, go tell Pher'oh
Fu' to let dem chillun go.'
'An' ef he refuse to do it,
I will make him rue de houah,
Fu' I'll empty down on Egypt
All de vials of my powah.'
Yes, he did - an' Pher'oh's ahmy
Was n't wuth a ha'f a dime;
Fu' de Lawd will he'p his chillun,
You kin trust him evah time.
An' yo' enemies may 'sail you
In de back an' in de front;
But de Lawd is all aroun' you,
Fu' to ba' de battle's brunt.
Dey kin fo'ge yo' chains an' shackles
F'om de mountains to de sea;
But de Lawd will sen' some Moses
Fu' to set his chillun free.
An' de lan' shall hyeah his thundah,
Lak a blas' f'om Gab'el's ho'n,
Fu' de Lawd of hosts is mighty
When he girds his ahmor on.
But fu' feah some one mistakes me,
I will pause right hyeah to say,
Dat I'm still a-preachin' ancient,
I ain't talkin' 'bout to-day.
But I tell you, fellah christuns,
Things'll happen mighty strange;
Now, de Lawd done dis fu' Isrul,
An' his ways don't nevah change,
An, de love he showed to Isrul
Was n't all on Isrul spent;
Now don't run an' tell yo' mastahs
Dat I's preachin' discontent.
'Cause I is n't; I'se a-judgin'
Bible people by deir ac's;
I'se a-givin' you de Scriptuah,
I'se a-handin' you de fac's.
Cose ole Pher'oh b'lieved in slav'ry,
But de Lawd he let him see,
Dat de people he put bref in, -
Evah mothah's son was free.
An' dahs othahs thinks lak Pher'oh,
But dey calls de Scriptuah liar,
Fu' de Bible says 'a servant
Is a-worthy of his hire.'
An' you cain't git roun' nor thoo dat
An' you cain't git ovah it,
Fu' whatevah place you git in,
Dis hyeah Bible too 'll fit.
So you see de Lawd's intention,
Evah sence de worl' began,
Was dat His almighty freedom
Should belong to evah man,
But I think it would be bettah,
Ef I'd pause agin to say,
Dat I'm talkin' 'bout ouah freedom
In a Bibleistic way.
But de Moses is a-comin',
An' he's comin', suah and fas'
We kin hyeah his feet a-trompin',
We kin hyeah his trumpit blas'.
But I want to wa'n you people,
Don't you git too brigity;
An' don't you git to braggin'
'Bout dese things, you wait an' see.
But when Moses wif his powah
Comes an' sets us chillun free,
We will praise de gracious Mastah
Dat has gin us liberty;
An' we'll shout ouah halleluyahs,
On dat mighty reck'nin' day,
When we'se reco'nised ez citiz'-
Huh uh! Chillun, let us pray!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Faith
I'S a-gittin' weary of de way dat people do,
De folks dat's got dey 'ligion in dey fiahplace an' flue;
Dey's allus somep'n comin' so de spit'll have to turn,
An' hit tain't no p'oposition fu' to mek de hickory bu'n.
Ef de sweet pertater fails us an' de go'geous yallah yam,
We kin tek a bit o' comfo't f'om ouah sto' o' summah jam.
W'en de snow hit git to flyin', dat's de Mastah's own desiah,
De Lawd'll run de wintah an' yo' mammy'll run de fiah.
I ain' skeered because de win' hit staht to rain and blow,
I ain't bothahed w'en he come er rattlin' at de do',
Let him taih hisse'f an' shout, let him blow an' bawl,
Dat's de time de branches shek an' bresh-wood 'mence to fall.
W'en de sto'm er railin' an' de shettahs blowin' 'bout,
Dat de time de fiah-place crack hits welcome out.
Tain' my livin' business fu' to trouble ner enquiah
De Lawd'll min' de wintah an' my mammy'll min' de fiah.
Ash-cake allus gits ez brown w'en February's hyeah
Ez it does in bakin' any othah time o' yeah.
De bacon smell ez callin'-like, de kittle rock an' sing,
De same way in de wintah dat dey do it in de spring;
Dey ain't no use in mopin' 'round an' lookin' mad an' glum
Erbout de wintah season, fu' hit's des plumb boun' to come;
An' ef it comes to runnin' t'ings I's willin' to retiah,
De Lawd'll min' de wintah an' my mammy'll min' de fiah.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the Morning
'LIAS! 'Lias! Bless de Lawd!
Don' you know de day's erbroad?
Ef you don' git up, you scamp,
Dey'll be trouble in dis camp.
Tink I gwine to let you sleep
W'ile I meks yo' boa'd an' keep?
Dat's a putty howdy-do-
Don' you hyeah me, 'Lias -you?
Bet ef I come crost dis flo'
You won’ fin’ no time to sno'
Daylight all a-shinin’ in
W'ile you sleep -w'y hit's a sin!
Aint de can'le-light enough
To bu'n out widout a snuff,
But you go de mo'nin' thoo
Bu'nin' up de daylight too?
'Lias, don’ you hyeah me call?
No use tu'nin' to'ds de wall;
I kin hyeah dat mattuss squeak;
Don' you hyeah me w’en I speak?
Dis hyeah clock done struck off six-
Ca'line, bring me dem ah sticks!
Oh, you down, suh; huh, you down-
Look hyeah, don' you daih to frown.
Ma'ch yo'se'f an wash yo' face,
Don' you splattah all de place;
I got somep'n else to do,
'Sides jes' cleanin' aftah you.
Tek dat comb an' fix yo' haid!-
Looks jes’ lak a feddah baid.
Look hyeah, boy, I let you see
You sha' n't roll yo' eyes at me.
Come hyeah; bring me dat ah strap!
Boy, I'll whup you 'twell you drap;
You done felt yo’se’f too strong,
An' you sholy got me wrong.
Set down at dat table thaih;
Jes' you whimpah ef you daih!
Evah mo'nin' on dis place,
Seem lak I mus' lose my grace.
Fol' yo' han's an' bow yo' haid-
Wait ontwell de blessin' 's said;
'Lawd, have mussy on ouah souls-'
(Don' you daih to tech dem rolls-)
'Bless de food we gwine to eat-'
(You set still -I see yo' feet;
You jes' try dat trick agin!)
'Gin us peace an' joy. Amen!'
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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That couple
We love them dearly,
Individually – always will –
but together – lawdy lawd…
they’ve exhausted our sympathy,
our advice, our sympathy again…
they love ‘making up’
more than rowing, separating – don’t we all?
but they love making up, even
more than loving…
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Quick Fix
Don't need no doctor, don't need no pills
Nothing it gives me's gonna cure my ills
I've got it bad baby and that ain't no lie
There ain't no vaccine for what I've got
Your kind of poison it don't come in a shot
It's just a cravin' baby that I can't deny
I've been tearin' up the town slammin' whiskey down
Ain't nothing but the real thing gonna do...no
There ain't no quick fix for you.
Babe...Lawd...There ain't no quick fix
You drive me crazy baby with those eyes
When you walked in the room you hit me broadside
Its a little past midnight
How blue can you get?
No matter how I try to drink this county dry
There really ain't no substitute....no
I need a quick fix for you
There ain't no easy answer
There ain't no miracle cure
I told the doctor what I needed
He said you better just run to her
Don't need no doctor, don't need no pills
Nothing it gives me gonna cure my ills
Well, no matter how I try to drink this county dry
There really ain't no substitute...no.
There ain't no quick fix for you
There ain't no quick fix.
song performed by by 38 Special
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Angelina
When de fiddle gits to singin' out a ol' Vahginny reel,
An' you 'mence to feel a ticklin' in yo' toe an' in yo' heel;
Ef you t'ink you got 'uligion an' you wants to keep it, too,
You jes' bettah tek a hint an' git yo'self clean out o' view.
Case de time is mighty temptin' when de chune is in de swing,
Fu' a darky, saint or sinner man, to cut de pigeon-wing.
An' you could n't he'p f'om dancin' ef yo' feet was boun' wif twine,
When Angelina Johnson comes a-swingin' down de line.
Don't you know Miss Angelina? She 's de da'lin' of de place.
W'y, dey ain't no high-toned lady wif sich mannahs an' sich grace.
She kin move across de cabin, wif its planks all rough an' wo';
Jes' de same 's ef she was dancin' on ol' mistus' ball-room flo'.
Fact is, you do' see no cabin--evaht'ing you see look grand,
An' dat one ol' squeaky fiddle soun' to you jes' lak a ban';
Cotton britches look lak broadclof an' a linsey dress look fine,
When Angelina Johnson comes a-swingin' down de line.
Some folks say dat dancin 's sinful, an' de blessed Lawd, dey say,
Gwine to punish us fu' steppin' w'en we hyeah de music play.
But I tell you I don' b'lieve it, fu' de Lawd is wise and good,
An' he made de banjo's metal an' he made de fiddle's wood,
An' he made de music in dem, so I don' quite t'ink he 'll keer
Ef our feet keeps time a little to de melodies we hyeah.
W'y, dey's somep'n' downright holy in de way our faces shine,
When Angelina Johnson comes a-swingin' down de line.
Angelina steps so gentle, Angelina bows so low,
An' she lif huh sku't so dainty dat huh shoetop skacely show:
An' dem teef o' huh'n a-shinin', ez she tek you by de han'--
Go 'way, people, d' ain't anothah sich a lady in de lan'!
When she 's movin' thoo de figgers er a-dancin' by huhse'f,
Folks jes' stan' stock-still a-sta'in', an' dey mos' nigh hol's dey bref;
An' de young mens, dey 's a-sayin', 'I 's gwine mek dat damsel mine,'
When Angelina Johnson comes a-swingin' down de line.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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!
poem by Langston Hughes
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Bad Dog Blues
I've got me a bad dog
Yeah, he's a mean old boy.
I've got me a bad dog
He's sure a mean old boy
He won't answer when
I call him, lawd, he treats
me like a toy.
He's so ornery
I've got to chase him down
each time he roams.
He's so ornery
I've got to chase him down
each times he roams.
Seems like everytime I
turn around I'm dragging
that sorry dog home.
He know's he's a bad dog
when he eats holes in my shoes.
He know's he's a bad dog
when he eats holes in my shoes.
He just looks at me with
sad eyes that seem to say even
bad dogs get the blues.
He looks at me with
pleading eyes and says
'Even bad dogs get the blues.'
poem by Faith Elizabeth Brigham
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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.
poem by Langston Hughes
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Oh, Bess, Oh Wheres My Bess?
Porgy
I ain axin yo opinion.
Oh, bess, oh wheres my bess,
Wont somebody tell me where?
I ain care what she say,
I ain care what she done,
Wont somebody tell me wheres my bess?
Bess, oh, lawd,
My bess! I want her now,
Widout her I cant go on.
I counted de days dat I was gone
Till I got home to see her face.
Wont somebody tell me wheres my bess?
I want her so, my gal, my bess,
Where is she?
Oh gawd, in yo big heavn
Please show me where I mus go,
Oh give me de strength, show me de way!
Tell me de truth, where is she, where is my gal,
Where is my bess!
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hope
DE dog go howlin' 'long de road,
De night come shiverin' down;
My back is tiahed of its load,
I cain't be fu' f'om town.
No mattah ef de way is long,
My haht is swellin' wid a song,
No mattah 'bout de frownin' skies,
I'll soon be home to see my Lize.
My shadder staggah on de way,
It's monstous col' to-night;
But I kin hyeah my honey say
'W'y bless me if de sight
O' you ain't good fu' my so' eyes.'
(Dat talk's dis lak my lady Lize)
I's so'y case de way was long
But Lawd you bring me love an' song.
No mattah ef de way is long,
An' ef I trimbles so'
I knows de fiah's burnin' strong,
Behime my Lizy's do'.
An' daih my res' an' joy shell be,
Whaih my ol' wife's awaitin' me —
Why what I keer fu' stingin' blas',
I see huh windah light at las'.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Clear Da Set
Lil wayne:
Clear da set nigga
(what) (what) (what) (what)
(verse 1)
See I be ridin on the prime in the lex bubble
Ready to come out the truck and make yo chest buckle
When I come I lay the sprays wit ks by the truck load
Shouldve got out of my way you heard my clip shuffle
Now yall was on the block with shot gunz
But when I finished, made it look like yall had pop gunz
Dressed in black...long hair...long gaks...lights off no stunn
Pack to the back, no mask, Im thuggin
(what!)what u wan do, if yo ribs dont bust it
Then 20 mo niggas follow in hummers, so aint nothin
(look!)17 ward is where I grew up at
So where a busta nigga standin is where he blew up at
I blew up that cmb so respect my peeps
Or else you want yo life to be all over the streets
Now watch me the younger soldier bring u closer to death
A little more than you expect nigga...i clear da set
Chorus:
You know they say lil wayne dem hotboy he will bust dem heads
Him calls on his gun and all dem bloody bodies dead
Dem...dem...really shouldnt try lil wayne cuz he will play with ks
And will bust a nigga wide open and put his brain on his plate
Now watch a nigga neighborhood (phhhh!!!) go up in flames
They...they all got burnt, couldnt cant stand the heat
I bet none of them (? ) jackers aint gone test lil wayne
Cuz i...i clear the set messin wit me
(verse 2)
I find a nigga where he stay
Cock my iron release and spray
We gone ride or we gone play
Its on my mind nigga anyday
Make you die where you lay
Try me and see what shakes
Why nigga I aint fake
Bahdi bye bye now apply away
With them blood claw...lawd(lord)
The m-o-b will break them nuts off...lawd
The must really think this is checkers boy...but why
But to be this hot when u play wit a peppa boy...now cry
Look...look...i dont mean no harm
But u might think Im wrong
But if u play with me and my click, youll blow up like a bomb
I...i upset yo home
Throw slugz at yo dome
Just gimme the word and I shine the chrome bring my help and its on
Yall lil boys shouldnt come against the uptown assasin
Jump out quick out of the jag and blow fire like a dragon
Soulja bandana wit bannana clips to fit in my sweeper
Once I hit the set look everybody burns like a heater
(chorus)
Now hold up as I bust back, watch playboy
Keep a dub sack, hey boy
Come to irritate yo day, boy
Watch yo chest seperate, boy
When I cocks me gloc me done tossed dem buck shots
And done kill them blood clots....what the deal
Yall niggas wants some more of wit this
Killas like us will take it to you front door with this
See hittin corners aint no real biggie
Im use to be set in that (? ) wit my still flippin
Im pistol grippin...ridin wit my grill glisten
Niggas done caught up in beef ..till they still missin
Now catch me in the black truck with chrome wheels twistin
A lil tipsy he gone lie, talkin bout he gone kill yo ms.s
Now peep it out
We gone clear da set but watchem (sweep!!!) sweep it out
Im cheap and cheaper and cops bustin in yo people house
If the nigga wan play I turn batter to flour
So nigga clear da set and bout 5 after the hour
(chorus) 1x
I makeem watch a nigga neighbor (phhhh!!!!) go up in flames
They..they all got burnt they cant stand the heat
I bet none of them (? ) jackers aint gone test lil wayane
Cuz i...i clear the set messin wit me
With the blood claw.....lawd(lord) (repeat 3x)
Hot boys untamed guerillas...what!!!
song performed by by Hot Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blue
STANDIN' at de winder,
Feelin' kind o' glum,
Listenin' to de raindrops
Play de kettle drum,
Lookin' crost de medders
Swimmin' lak a sea;
Lawd 'a' mussy on us,
What's de good o' me?
Can't go out a-hoein',
Wouldn't ef I could;
Groun' too wet fu' huntin',
Fishin' ain't no good.
Too much noise fo' sleepin',
No one hyeah to chat;
Des mus' stan' an' listen
To dat pit-a-pat.
Hills is gittin' misty,
Valley's gittin' dahk;
Watch-dog's 'mence a-howlin',
Rathah have 'em ba'k
Dan a-moanin' solemn
Somewhaih out o' sight;
Rain-crow des a-chucklin' —
Dis is his delight.
Mandy, bring my banjo,
Bring de chillen in,
Come in f'om de kitchen,
I feel sick ez sin.
Call in Uncle Isaac,
Call Aunt Hannah, too,
Tain't no use in talkin',
Chile, I's sholy blue.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Noon
Shadder in de valley
Sunlight on de hill,
Sut'ny wish dat locus'
Knowed how to be still.
Don't de heat already
Mek a body hum,
'Dout dat insec' sayin'
Hottah days to come?
Fiel' 's a shinin' yaller
Wid de bendin' grain,
Guinea hen a callin',
Now's de time fu' rain;
Shet yo' mouf, you rascal,
Wha' 's de use to cry?
You do' see no rain clouds
Up dah in de sky.
Dis hyeah sweat's been po'in'
Down my face sence dawn;
Ain't hit time we 's hyeahin'
Dat ah dinnah ho'n?
Go on, Ben an' Jaspah,
Lif yo' feet an' fly,
Hit out fu' de shadder
Fo' I drap an' die.
Hongry, lawd a' mussy,
Hongry as a baih,
Seems lak I hyeah dinnah
Callin' evahwhaih;
Daih 's de ho'n a blowin'!
Let dat cradle swing,
One mo' sweep, den da'kies,
Beat me to de spring!'
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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