Read Just Give Me a Cool Drink of Water 'fore I Diiie Online
Authors: Maya Angelou
I sit a throne upon the times
when Kings are rare and
Consorts
slide into the grease of scullery maids.
So gaily wave a crown of light
(astride the royal chair) that blinds
the commoners who genuflect and cross their fingers.
The years will lie beside me
on the queenly bed.
And coupled we'll await
the ages' dust to cake my lids again.
And when the rousing kiss is given,
why must it always be a fairy, and
only just a Prince?
No sound falls
from the moaning sky
No scowl wrinkles
the evening pool
  The stars lean down
  A stony brilliance
  While birds fly
The market leers
its empty shelves
Streets bare bosoms
to scanty cars
  This bed yawns
  beneath the weight
  of our absent selves.
She came home running
  back to the mothering blackness
  deep in the smothering blackness
white tears icicle gold plains of her face
  She came home running
She came down creeping
  here to the black arms waiting
  now to the warm heart waiting
rime of alien dreams befrost her rich brown face
  She came down creeping
She came home blameless
  black yet as Hagar's daughter
  tall as was Sheba's daughter
threats of northern winds die on the desert's face
  She came home blameless
When love is a shimmering curtain
Before a door of chance
That leads to a world in question
Wherein the macabrous dance
Of bones that rattle in silence
Of blinded eyes and rolls
Of thick lips thin, denying
A thousand powdered moles,
Where touch to touch is feel
And life a weary whore
  I would be carried off, not gently
  To a shore,
  Where love is the scream of anguish
  And no curtain drapes the door.
If today, I follow death
go down its trackless wastes,
salt my tongue on hardened tears
for my precious dear times waste
race
along that promised cave in a headlong
deadlong
haste,
Will you
have
the
grace
to mourn for
me?
now thread my voice
with lies
of lightness
force within
my mirror eyes
the cold disguise
of sad and wise
decisions.
Sounds
  Like pearls
Roll off your tongue
  To grace this eager ebon ear.
Doubt and fear,
  Ungainly things,
With blushings
  Disappear.
When I think about myself,
I almost laugh myself to death,
My life has been one great big joke,
A dance that's walked
A song that's spoke,
I laugh so hard I almost choke
When I think about myself.
Sixty years in these folks' world
The child I works for calls me girl
I say “Yes ma'am” for working's sake.
Too proud to bend
Too poor to break,
I laugh until my stomach ache,
When I think about myself.
My folks can make me split my side,
I laughed so hard I nearly died,
The tales they tell, sound just like lying,
They grow the fruit,
But eat the rind,
I laugh until I start to crying,
When I think about my folks.
On a bright day, next week
Just before the bomb falls
Just before the world ends,
  Just before I die
All my tears will powder
Black in dust like ashes
Black like Buddha's belly
  Black and hot and dry
Then will mercy tumble
Falling down in godheads
Falling on the children
  Falling from the sky
Let me hip you to the streets,
Jim,
Ain't nothing happening.
Maybe some tomorrows gone up in smoke,
raggedy preachers, telling a joke
to lonely, son-less old ladies' maids.
Nothing happening,
Nothing shakin', Jim.
A slough of young cats riding that
cold, white horse,
a grey old monkey on their back, of course
does rodeo tricks.
No haps, man.
No haps.
A worn-out pimp, with a space-age conk,
setting up some fool for a game of tonk,
or poker or
get 'em dead and alive.
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.
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.
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 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?
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.
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
  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.
Your beauty is a thunder
and I am set a wanderingâa 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 beingâa 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
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
the 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.