Hopscotch In Harlem 1948

EXCERPT (Approximately 30% of Poem) From Summertimes and Monday Mournings Hopscotch in Harlem Children play ten square Jump Jump all stare Bahhh Bahhh Black sheep Have you any cares? Yes Sir Yes sir More than my share I’ve added all my Blues up And I have some to spare. Hopscotch in Harlem Feels like a HOLIDAY Don’t touch the Hi-Fi Cause BESSIE wants to play. A BIRD in the band Is worth two in the bush Heaven’s big enough for everybody But still folks just push Hopscotch in Harlem The war is almost over Daddy lost his leg At least he has a head on his shoulder The Bomber won in the last round With a swift uppercut jab Harlem’s too far from heaven So it’s best you take a CAB And if you want to be on time I guess that TRANE will work out fine I guess that TRANE will work out fine. TENEMENT 103 “Mama why we got to live like this? I’m sick of eatin’ beans an’ hominy grits. Mama I’m sick of this sh-----“ “Shhhh watch yo’ mouth boy You aint ol’ enough to fuss I’m the only one in this house Got a right to fuss.” “Aint the Good Lo’d give you eyes boy To see that yo Mama is busy? Stop spinnin’ yo brother around You gonna make him DIZZIE Harlem Sunsets Children dreaming Voiceless vignettes Harlems last gleaming Broad stripes And dim stars Tears constantly streaming The long hours of despair Dreams dissolving in air Gave proof through the night That our Blues were still there After all that dying Those Blues were still there. HOPSCOTCH IN HARLEM One two Yo’ Daddy loves you Three Four Mama loves you more Five six How’d you get in this fix Even the Good Lord Can’t clean up yo sh*%$ And when you’re behind Is a good time to quit Square number seven Just getting started Yo Mama went to heaven Sad and broken hearted Cussin’ an fussin’ Glad that she departed Jump jump Advance to number eight Yo Daddy knockin’ on heaven’s gates They wont let him in Because he got there late "I tol you they do ‘scriminate." Yo’ Mama died from drinkin’ whiskey and wine Go back two squares cause you stepped on the line If you make it to square number nine Than you’re really doing good Jump Jump God bless those who make it to ten So lucky are them This is how THEY play Hopscotch in Harlem M Ellis Pulitzer Eyes