Carnegie Hill Village
Staying connected in your own community
Summertime
And the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin'
And the cotton, the cotton is high
Oh, your daddy's rich
And your ma, she's good lookin'
So hush, little baby
Don't you cry
One of these mornings
You're gonna rise up singing
I lift up mine eyes to the mountains, whence my help shall come.
But turnips tango, and carrots two-step
across the lawn, their leafy headdresses
waggling in time. Habaneros, of course,
salsa, the hotter the better, while white
asparagus gavotte, and everyone knows
that yams jam and break, and zucchini
No apple trees or serene seas
I’d rather write of cans of peas.
It’s poetry of potency
despite your most unhappy pleas.
And, I don’t mean pea soup at all
nor snap nor snow nor teamed in rice.
and if
I were to sayI love you and
I do love youand I say it
now and againand again
would you sayparataxis
would you seethe world revolves
anewits axis
you
For my people everywhere singing their slave songs
repeatedly: their dirges and their ditties and their blues
and jubilees, praying their prayers nightly to an
unknown god, bending their knees humbly to an
unseen power;
The lily has a smooth stalk,
Will never hurt your hand;
But the rose upon her brier
Is lady of the land.
There's sweetness in an apple tree,
And profit in the corn;
But lady of all beauty
Is a rose upon a thorn.
- Fish got to swim, birds got to fly,
- I gotta love one man till I die,
- Can't help lovin' dat man of mine.
A walk in the park.
I've got to get some sense
Back into my head.
I`m in the dark.
And I can`t see
Where I`m being led.
I`d give the world
To set the clock back
And act like a man.