The Complete Collected Poems of Maya Angelou Page 3

  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.

  To PAUL

  Pickin Em Up and Layin Em Down

  There's a long-legged girl

  in San Francisco

  by the Golden Gate.

  She said she'd give me all I wanted

  but I just couldn't wait.

  I started to

  Pickin em up

  and layin em down, Pickin em up

  and layin em down, Pickin em up

  and layin em down, gettin to the next town Baby.

  There's a pretty brown

  in Birmingham.

  Boys, she little and cute

  but when she like to tied me down

  I had to grab my suit and started to

  Pickin em up

  and layin em down,

  Pickin em up

  and layin em down,

  Pickin em up

  and layin em down,

  gettin to the next town

  Baby.

  I met that lovely Detroit lady

  and thought my time had come

  But just before I said “I do”

  I said “I got to run” and started to

  Pickin em up and layin em down,

  Pickin em up and layin em down,

  Pickin em up and layin em down,

  gettin to the next town

  Baby.

  There ain't no words for what I feel

  about a pretty face

  But if I stay I just might miss

  a prettier one some place

  I started to

  Pickin em up and layin em down,

  Pickin em up and layin em down,

  Pickin em up and layin em down,

  gettin to the next town

  Baby.

  Here's to Adhering

  I went to a party

  out in Hollywood,

  The atmosphere was shoddy

  but the drinks were good,

  and that's where I heard you laugh.

  I then went cruising

  on an old Greek ship,

  The crew was amusing

  but the guests weren't hip,

  that's where I found your hands.

  On to the Sahara

  in a caravan,

  The sun struck like an arrow

  but the nights were grand,

  and that's how I found your chest.

  An evening in the Congo

  where the Congo ends,

  I found myself alone, oh

  but I made some friends,

  that's where I saw your face.

  I have been devoting

  all my time to get

  Parts of you out floating

  still unglued as yet.

  Won't you pull yourself together

  For

  Me

  ONCE

  On Reaching Forty

  Other acquainted years

  sidle

  with modest

  decorum

  across the scrim of toughened

  tears and to a stage

  planked with laughter boards

  and waxed with rueful loss.

  But forty

  with the authorized

  brazenness of a uniformed

  cop stomps

  no-knocking

  into the script

  bumps a funky grind on the

  shabby curtain of youth

  and delays the action.

  Unless you have the inborn

  wisdom

  and grace

  and are clever enough

  to die at

  thirty-nine.

  The Telephone

  It comes in black

  and blue, indecisive

  beige. In red and chaperons my life.

  Sitting like a strict

  and spinstered aunt

  spiked between my needs and need.

  It tats the day, crocheting

  other people's lives

  in neat arrangements,

  ignoring me,

  busy with the hemming

  of strangers’ overlong affairs or

  the darning of my

  neighbors’ worn-out dreams.

  From Monday, the morning of the week,

  through mid-times

  noon and Sunday's dying

  light. It sits silent.

  Its needle sound

  does not transfix my ear

  or draw my longing to a close.

  Ring. Damn you!

  Passing Time

  Your skin like dawn

  Mine like dusk.

  One paints the beginning

  of a certain end.

  The other, the end of a

  sure beginning.

  Now Long Ago

  One innocent spring

  your voice meant to me

  less than tires turning

  on a distant street.

  Your name, perhaps spoken,

  led no chorus of

  batons

  unrehearsed

  to crush against my

  empty chest.

  That cool spring

  was shortened by

  your summer, bold, impatient

  and all forgotten

  except when silence

  turns the key

  into my midnight bedroom

  and comes to sleep upon your

  pillow.

  Greyday

  The day hangs heavy

  loose and grey

  when you're away.

  A crown of thorns

  a shirt of hair

  is what I wear.

  No one knows

  my lonely heart

  when we're apart.

  Poor Girl

  You've got another love

  and I know it

  Someone who adores you

  just like me

  Hanging on your words

  like they were gold

  Thinking that she understands

  your soul Poor Girl

  Just like me.

  You're breaking another heart

  and I know it And there's nothing

  I can do

  If I try to tell her

  what I know

  She'll misunderstand

  and make me go

  Poor Girl

  Just like me.

  You're going to leave her too

  and I know it She'll never know

  what made you go

  She'll cry and wonder

  what went wrong Then she'll begin

  to sing this song

  Poor Girl

  Just like me.

  Come. And Be My Baby

  The highway is full of big cars

  going nowhere fast

  And folks is smoking anything that'll burn

  Some people wrap their lives around a cocktail glass

  And you sit wondering

  where you're going to turn.

  I got it.

  Come. And be my baby.

  Some prophets say the world is gonna end tomorrow

  But others say we've got a week or two

  The paper is full of every kind of blooming horror

  And you sit wondering

  What you're gonna do.

  I got it.

  Come. And be my baby.

  Senses of Insecurity

  I couldn't tell fact from fiction

  or if my dream was true,

  The only sure prediction

  in this whole world was you.

  I'd touched your features inchly,

  heard love and dared the cost.

  The scented spiel reeled me unreal

  and found my senses lost.

  Alone

  Lying, thinking

  Last night

  How to find my so
ul a home

  Where water is not thirsty

  And bread loaf is not stone

  I came up with one thing

  And I don't believe I'm wrong

  That nobody,

  But nobody

  Can make it out here alone.

  Alone, all alone

  Nobody, but nobody

  Can make it out here alone.

  There are some millionaires

  With money they can't use

  Their wives run round like banshees

  Their children sing the blues

  They've got expensive doctors

  To cure their hearts of stone.

  But nobody

  No, nobody

  Can make it out here alone.

  Alone, all alone

  Nobody, but nobody

  Can make it out here alone.Now if you listen closely

  I'll tell you what I know

  Storm clouds are gathering

  The wind is gonna blow

  The race of man is suffering

  And I can hear the moan,

  ‘Cause nobody,

  But nobody

  Can make it out here alone.

  Alone, all alone

  Nobody, but nobody

  Can make it out here alone.

  Communication I

  She wished of him a lover's kiss and

  nights of coupled twining.

  They laced themselves

  between the trees

  and to the water's edge.

  Reminding her

  the cratered moon lay light-years away,

  he spoke of Greece, the Parthenon

  and Cleopatra's barge.

  She splayed her foot

  up to the shin

  within the ocean brine.

  He quoted Pope and Bernard Shaw

  and Catcher in the Rye.

  Her sandal lost,

  she dried her toe

  and then she mopped her brow.

  Dry-eyed

  she walked into her room

  and frankly told her mother,

  “Of all he said, I understood

  he said he loved another.”

  Communication II

  FOR ADELE

  The Student

  The dust of ancient pages

  had never touched his face,

  and fountains black and comely

  were mummied in a place

  beyond

  his young un-knowing.

  The Teacher

  She shared the lettered strivings

  of etched Pharaonic walls

  and Reconstruction's anguish

  resounded down the halls

  of all her

  dry dreams.

  Wonder

  A day

  drunk with the nectar of

  nowness

  weaves its way between

  the years

  to find itself at the flophouse

  of night

  to sleep and be seen

  no more.

  Will I be less

  dead because I wrote this

  poem or you more because

  you read it

  long years hence.

  A Conceit

  Give me your hand.

  Make room for me

  to lead and follow

  you

  beyond this rage of poetry.

  Let others have

  the privacy of

  touching words

  and love of loss

  of love.

  For me

  Give me your hand.

  Request

  If this country is a bastard

  will the lowdown mother user

  who ran off

  and left the woman

  moaning in her

  green delivery

  please come back and claim

  his love child.

  Give a legal name to beg from

  for the first

  time of its life.

  Africa

  Thus she had lain

  sugarcane sweet

  deserts her hair

  golden her feet

  mountains her breasts

  two Niles her tears.

  Thus she has lain

  Black through the years.

  Over the white seas

  rime white and cold

  brigands ungentled

  icicle bold

  took her young daughters

  sold her strong sons

  churched her with Jesus

  bled her with guns.

  Thus she has lain.

  Now she is rising

  remember her pain

  remember the losses

  her screams loud and vain

  remember her riches

  her history slain

  now she is striding

  although she had lain.

  America

  The gold of her promise

  has never been mined

  Her borders of justice

  not clearly defined

  Her crops of abundance

  the fruit and the grain

  Have not fed the hungry

  nor eased that deep pain

  Her proud declarations

  are leaves on the wind

  Her southern exposure

  black death did befriend

  Discover this country

  dead centuries cry

  Erect noble tablets

  where none can decry

  “She kills her bright future

  and rapes for a sou

  Then entraps her children

  with legends untrue”

  I beg you

  Discover this country.

  For Us, Who Dare Not Dare

  Be me a Pharaoh

  Build me high pyramids of stone and question

  See me the Nile

  at twilight

  and jaguars moving to

  the slow cool draught.

  Swim me Congo

  Hear me the tails of alligators

  flapping waves that reach

  a yester shore.

  Swing me vines, beyond that baobab tree,

  and talk me chief

  Sing me birds

  flash color lightening through bright green leaves.

  Taste me fruit

  its juice free-falling from

  a mother tree.

  Know me

  Africa.

  Lord, in My Heart

  FOR COUNTEE CULLEN

  Holy haloes

  Ring me round

  Spirit waves on

  Spirit sound

  Meshach and

  Abednego

  Golden chariot

  Swinging low

  I recite them

  in my sleep

  Jordan's cold

  and briny deep

  Bible lessons

  Sunday school

  Bow before the

  Golden Rule

  Now I wonder

  If I tried

  Could I turn my

  cheek aside

  Marvelling with

  afterthought

  Let the blow fall

  saying naught

  Of my true Christlike

  control

  And the nature

  of my soul

  Would I strike with

  rage divine

  Till the culprit

  fell supine

  Hit out broad all

  fury red

  Till my foes are

  fallen dead

  Teachers of my

  early youth

  Taught forgiveness

  stressed the truth

  Here then is my

  Christian lack:

  If I'm struck then

  I'll strike back.

  Artful Pose

  Of falling leaves and melting

  snows, of birds

  in their delights

  Some poets sing

&
nbsp; their melodies

  tendering my nights

  sweetly.

  My pencil halts

  and will not go

  along that quiet path.

  I need to write

  of lovers false

  and hate

  and hateful wrath

  quickly.

  The Couple

  Discard the fear and what

  was she? Of rag and bones

  a mimicry of woman's

  fairy-ness

  Archaic at its birth.

  Discharge the hate and when

  was he? Disheveled moans

  a mimesis of man's

  estate

  deceited for its worth.

  Dissolve the greed and why

  were they? Enfeebled thrones

  a memory of mortal

  kindliness

  exiled from this earth.

  The Pusher

  He bad

  O he bad

  He make a honky

  poot. Make a honky's

  blue eyes squint