The streets?
   Climb into the streets man, like you climb
   into the ass end of a lion.
   Then it’s fine.
   It’s a bug-a-loo and a shing-a-ling,
   African dreams on a buck-and-a-wing and a prayer.
   That’s the streets man,
   Nothing happening.
   Miss Scarlett, Mr. Rhett and Other Latter-Day Saints
   Novitiates sing Ave
   Before the whipping posts,
   Criss-crossing their breasts and
   tear-stained robes
   in the yielding dark.
   Animated by the human sacrifice
   (Golgotha in black-face)
   Priests glow purely white on the
   bar-relief of a plantation shrine.
   (O Sing)
   You are gone but not forgotten
   Hail, Scarlett. Requiescat in pace.
   God-Makers smear brushes in
   blood/gall
   to etch frescoes on your
   ceilinged tomb.
   (O Sing)
   Hosanna, King Kotton.
   Shadowed couplings of infidels
   tempt stigmata from the nipples
   of your true-believers.
   (Chant Maternoster)
   Hallowed Little Eva.
   Ministers make novena with the
   charred bones of four
   very small
   very black
   very young children
   (Intone DIXIE)
   And guard the relics
   of your intact hymen
   daily putting to death,
   into eternity,
   The stud, his seed,
   His seed
   His seed.
   (O Sing)
   Hallelujah, pure Scarlett
   Blessed Rhett, the Martyr.
   Times-Square-Shoeshine-Composition
   I’m the best that ever done it
   (pow pow)
   that’s my title and I won it
   (pow pow)
   I ain’t lying, I’m the best
   (pow pow)
   Come and put me to the test
   (pow pow)
   I’ll clean ’em til they squeak
   (pow pow)
   In the middle of next week,
   (pow pow)
   I’ll shine ’em til they whine
   (pow pow)
   Till they call me master mine
   (pow pow)
   For a quarter and a dime
   (pow pow)
   You can get the dee luxe shine
   (pow pow)
   Say you wanta pay a quarter?
   (pow pow)
   Then you give that to your daughter
   (pow pow)
   I ain’t playing dozens mister
   (pow pow)
   You can give it to your sister
   (pow pow)
   Any way you want to read it
   (pow pow)
   Maybe it’s your momma need it.
   (pow pow)
   Say I’m like a greedy bigot,
   (pow pow)
   I’m a cap’tilist, can you dig it?
   (pow pow)
   Faces
   Faces and more remember
   then reject
   the brown caramel days of youth
   Reject the sun-sucked tit of
   childhood mornings.
   Poke a muzzle of war in the trust frozen eyes
   of a favored doll
   Breathe, Brother
   and displace a moment’s hate with organized love.
   A poet screams “CHRIST WAITS AT THE SUBWAY!”
   But who sees?
   To a Freedom Fighter
   You drink a bitter draught.
   I sip the tears your eyes fight to hold
   A cup of lees, of henbane steeped in chaff.
   Your breast is hot,
   Your anger black and cold,
   Through evening’s rest, you dream
   I hear the moans, you die a thousands’ death.
   When cane straps flog the body
   dark and lean, you feel the blow,
   I hear it in your breath.
   Riot: 60’s
   Our
   YOUR FRIEND CHARLIE pawnshop
   was a glorious blaze
   I heard the flames lick
   then eat the trays
   of zircons
   mounted in red gold alloys
   Easter clothes and stolen furs
   burned in the attic
   radios and teevees
   crackled with static
   plugged in
   only to a racial outlet
   Some
   thought the FRIENDLY FINANCE FURNITURE CO.
   burned higher
   When a leopard print sofa with gold legs
   (which makes into a bed)
   caught fire
   an admiring groan from the waiting horde
   “Absentee landlord
   you got that shit”
   Lighting: a hundred Watts
   Detroit, Newark and New York
   Screeching nerves, exploding minds
   lives tied to
   a policeman’s whistle
   a welfare worker’s doorbell
   finger.
   Hospitality, southern-style
   corn pone grits and you-all smile
   whole blocks novae
   brand new stars
   policemen caught in their
   brand new cars
   Chugga chugga chigga
   git me one nigga
   lootin’ n burnin’
   he wont git far
   Watermelons, summer ripe
   grey neck bones and boiling tripe
   supermarket roastin like the
   noon-day sun
   national guard nervous with his shiny gun
   goose the motor quicker
   here’s my nigga picka
   shoot him in the belly
   shoot him while he run.
   We Saw Beyond Our Seeming
   We saw beyond our seeming
   These days of bloodied screaming
   Of children dying bloated
   Out where the lilies floated
   Of men all noosed and dangling
   Within the temples strangling
   Our guilt grey fungus growing
   We knew and lied our knowing
   Deafened and unwilling
   We aided in the killing
   And now our souls lie broken
   Dry tablets without token.
   Black Ode
   Your beauty is a thunder
   and I am set a wandering—a wandering
   Deafened
   Down twilight tin-can alleys
   And moist sounds
   “OOo wee Baby, Look what you could get if your name
   was Willie”
   Oh, to dip your words like snuff.
   A laughter, black and streaming
   And I am come a being—a being
   Rounded
   Up Baptist, aisles, so moaning
   And moist sounds
   “Bless her heart. Take your bed and walk.
   You been heavy burdened”
   Oh, to lick your love like tears.
   No No No No
   No
   the two legg’d beasts
   that walk like men
   play stink finger in their crusty asses
   while crackling babies
   in napalm coats
   stretch mouths to receive
   burning tears
   on splitting tongues
   JUST GIVE ME A COOL DRINK OF WATER ’FORE I DIIIE
   No
   the gap legg’d whore
   of the eastern shore
   enticing Europe to COME
   in her
   and turns her pigeon shit back to me
   to me
   Who stoked the coal that drove the ships
   which brought her over the sinuous cemetery
   Of my many brothers
   No
   t 
					     					 			he cocktailed after noons
   of what can I do.
   In my white layed pink world
   I’ve let your men cram my mouth
   with their black throbbing hate
   and I swallowed after
   I’ve let your mammies
   steal from my kitchens
   (I was always half-amused)
   I’ve chuckled the chins of
   your topsy-haired pickaninnies.
   What more can I do?
   I’ll never be black like you.
   (HALLELUJAH)
   No
   the red-shoed priests riding
   palanquined
   in barefoot children country.
   the plastered saints gazing down
   beneficently
   on kneeling mothers
   picking undigested beans
   from yesterday’s shit.
   I have waited
   toes curled, hat rolled
   heart and genitals
   in hand
   on the back porches
   of forever
   in the kitchens and fields
   of rejections
   on the cold marble steps
   of America’s White Out-House
   in the drop seats of buses
   and the open flies of war
   No more
   the dream that you
   will cease haunting me
   down in fetid swamps of fear
   and will turn to embrace your own
   humanity
   which I AM
   No more
   The hope that
   the razored insults
   which mercury slide over your tongue
   will be forgotten
   and you will learn the words of love
   Mother Brother Father Sister Lover Friend
   My hopes
   dying slowly
   rose petals falling
   beneath an autumn red moon
   will not adorn your unmarked graves
   My dreams
   lying quietly
   a dark pool under the trees
   will not carry your name
   to a forgetful shore
   And what a pity
   What a pity
   That pity has folded in upon itself
   an old man’s mouth
   whose teeth are gone
   and I have no pity.
   My Guilt
   My guilt is “slavery’s chains,” too long
   the clang of iron falls down the years.
   This brother’s sold. This sister’s gone
   is bitter wax, lining my ears.
   My guilt made music with the tears.
   My crime is “heroes, dead and gone”
   dead Vesey, Turner, Gabriel,
   dead Malcolm, Marcus, Martin King.
   They fought too hard, they loved too well.
   My crime is I’m alive to tell.
   My sin is “hanging from a tree”
   I do not scream, it makes me proud.
   I take to dying like a man.
   I do it to impress the crowd.
   My sin lies in not screaming loud.
   The Calling of Names
   He went to being called a Colored man
   after answering to “hey nigger,”
   Now that’s a big jump,
   anyway you figger,
   Hey, Baby, Watch my smoke.
   From colored man to Negro
   With the N in caps,
   was like saying Japanese
   instead of saying Japs.
   I mean, during the war.
   The next big step
   was a change for true,
   From Negro in caps
   to being a Jew.
   Now, Sing Yiddish Mama.
   Light, Yellow, Brown
   and Dark brown skin,
   were o.k. colors to
   describe him then,
   He was a Bouquet of Roses.
   He changed his seasons
   like an almanac,
   Now you’ll get hurt
   if you don’t call him “Black.”
   Nigguh, I ain’t playin’ this time.
   On Working White Liberals
   I don’t ask the Foreign Legion
   Or anyone to win my freedom
   Or to fight my battle better than I can,
   Though there’s one thing that I cry for
   I believe enough to die for
   That is every man’s responsibility to man.
   I’m afraid they’ll have to prove first
   that they’ll watch the Black man move first
   Then follow him with faith to kingdom come,
   This rocky road is not paved for us,
   So, I’ll believe in Liberal’s aid for us
   When I see a white man load a Black man’s gun.
   Sepia Fashion Show
   Their hair, pomaded, faces jaded
   bones protruding, hip-wise,
   The models strutted, backed and butted,
   Then stuck their mouths out, lip-wise.
   They’d nasty manners, held like banners,
   while they looked down their nose-wise,
   I’d see ’em in hell, before they’d sell
   me one thing they’re wearing, clothes-wise.
   The Black Bourgeois, who all say “yah”
   When yeah is what they’re meaning
   Should look around, both up and down
   before they set out preening.
   “Indeed” they swear, “that’s what I’ll wear
   When I go country-clubbing,”
   I’d remind them please, look at those knees
   you got a Miss Ann’s scrubbing.
   The Thirteens (Black)
   Your Momma took to shouting
   Your Poppa’s gone to war,
   Your sister’s in the streets
   Your brother’s in the bar,
   The thirteens. Right On.
   Your cousin’s taking smack
   Your Uncle’s in the joint,
   Your buddy’s in the gutter
   Shooting for his point
   The thirteens. Right on.
   And you, you make me sorry
   You out here by yourself,
   I’d call you something dirty,
   But there just ain’t nothing left,
   cept
   The thirteens. Right On.
   The Thirteens (White)
   Your Momma kissed the chauffeur,
   Your Poppa balled the cook,
   Your sister did the dirty,
   in the middle of the book,
   The thirteens. Right On.
   Your daughter wears a jock strap,
   Your son he wears a bra
   Your brother jonesed your cousin
   in the back seat of the car.
   The thirteens. Right On.
   Your money thinks you’re something
   But if I’d learned to curse,
   I’d tell you what your name is
   But there just ain’t nothing worse
   than
   The thirteens. Right On.
   Harlem Hopscotch
   One foot down, then hop! It’s hot.
   Good things for the ones that’s got.
   Another jump, now to the left.
   Everybody for hisself.
   In the air, now both feet down.
   Since you black, don’t stick around.
   Food is gone, the rent is due,
   Curse and cry and then jump two.
   All the people out of work,
   Hold for three, then twist and jerk.
   Cross the line, they count you out.
   That’s what hopping’s all about.
   Both feet flat, the game is done.
   They think I lost. I think I won.
   Also by Maya Angelou
   And Still I Rise
   Gather Together in My Name
   The Heart of a Woman
   I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings
   Oh Pray My Wings Are Gonna Fit Me Well
   Singin’ a 
					     					 			nd Swingin’ and Gettin’ Merry Like Christmas
   Shaker, Why Don’t You Sing?
   All God’s Children Need Traveling Shoes
   I Shall Not Be Moved
   On the Pulse of Morning
   Wouldn’t Take Nothing for My Journey Now
   The Complete Collected Poems of Maya Angelou
   Phenomenal Woman
   A Brave and Startling Truth
   About the Author
   Maya Angelou, author of the best-selling I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, Gather Together in My Name, and The Heart of a Woman, has also written five collections of poetry: Just Give Me a Cool Drink of Water ’fore I Diiie; Oh Pray My Wings Are Gonna Fit Me Well; And Still I Rise; Shaker, Why Don’t You Sing?; and I Shall Not Be Moved; as well as On the Pulse of Morning, which was read by her at the inauguration of President William Jefferson Clinton on January 20, 1993. In theater, she produced, directed, and starred in Cabaret for Freedom in collaboration with Godfrey Cambridge at New York’s Village Gate, starred in Genet’s The Blacks at the St. Mark’s Playhouse, and adapted Sophocles ’ Ajax, which premiered at the Mark Taper Forum in Los Angeles in 1974. She wrote the original screenplay and musical score for the film Georgia, Georgia and wrote and produced a ten-part TV series on African traditions in American life. In the sixties, at the request of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., she became the northern coordinator for the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, and in 1975 she received the Ladies’ Home Journal Woman of the Year Award in communications. She has received numerous honorary degrees and was appointed by President Jimmy Carter to the National Commission on the Observance of International Women’s Year and by President Gerald R. Ford to the American Revolution Bicentennial Advisory Council. She is on the board of trustees of the American Film Institute. One of the few female members of the Directors Guild, Angelou is the author of the television screenplays I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings and The Sisters. Most recently, she wrote the lyrics for the musical King: Drum Major for Love and was both host and writer for the series of documentaries Maya Angelou’s America: A Journey of the Heart, along with Guy Johnson. Angelou is currently Reynolds Professor at Wake Forest University, Winston-Salem, North Carolina.