Plantation Echoes: A Collection of Original Negro Dialect Poems by Elliott Blaine Henderson - HTML preview

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LONESUM VALLEY CHRISTMUS TREE.

Bes’ ub all de Chrismus ’tainmunts

Dat I axshly ebbah seed,

Was de one at Lonesum Valley

At de church ub Pawsun Weed.

All de ol’ fo’ks an’ de chillun

Dress purraded out dat night,

To de graid big Chrismus ’tainmun’

Fo’ to git dey Chrismus mite.

When dey’s geddahd in dat chapel,

Bruddah.—? Dey was thick ez hops,

When de chillun seed de candy,

Smack’d dey moufs an’ lick’d dey chops.

Dey was He, He, an’ er lafin’

An’ er clappin’ o’ dey han’s,

An’ dey jaws jes’ kep’ er crackin’,

Lak de chittlins in de pans.

 

An’ de ol’ fo’ks tell yo’ honey,

Sah I bleeb dey was de wuss.

Dey’s so ankshus fo’ dey ’freshmun’s

Dey’s mos’ reddy fo’ to bus’.

Preechah Weed wid dat dah swallow

Tail an’ ves’ ub his cut low,

Jes’ had all de flouncin’ sistahs

Leggin’ fo’ to be his boh.

Bruddah Hookey he puzzided;

Felt so big he thowt he’s king;

Tuck er ball bat, rapp’d fo’ ordah,

Said, let’s cleah ah th’oats an’ sing.

Well, he tuck his pussnel meedah,

Gib de linin’ ub de hymn,

An’ dey sing’d de “Weepin’ Moses”

An’ dey sing’d it too, by Jim!

At de klooshun ub dat ditty,

Deekun Jaspah put up prah,

Th’ow’d his haid clah to de ceilin’

Dough he seed de Gates er jah.

Dis hain’t true, I’ll eat de ’possum,

Sech er prah yo’ nebbah hyea’d;

Scratch’d his haid an’ weep’d an’ hollahd

Tell his eyes lak blud was red.

Oh, he’s moanin’ and er tonein’

An’ er kotchen’ ub his bref—

 

Spit erpun his han’s an’ rubb’d em—

Pound de bench fum right to lef’.

Las’ he ’klooded an’ de sistahs

Staht to sing plantashun coon.

Bruddah Hookey diden’ lak it;

Tol’ ’em dey was mos’ too soon.

But de mos’ fun ub de evenin’

Was when gibbin’ presen’s out.

Yo’d er crack’d yo’ sides er lafin’

Tell yo’d got er hol’ de gout.

On de tree dey was er chicken;

Wasn’t laybeld wid er name.

When de dahkies hyeahd erbout it

Ebbry one put up er claim.

Bruddah Gyahdnah spied de chicken

Floppin’ ’neef de Chrismus tree;

Made er home run wid er hollah;

“Dat dah chicken am fo’ me!”

Well, sah, when he hollah’d chicken

’Twas de same ez holl’rin fiah,

Fo’ dat chicken was er stampeed

In de church an’ in de quah.

Sum de sistahs dat had room’ticks

An’ de aches fo’ yeahs an’ yeahs,

Fo’ dat chicken was er scramblin’

An’ a fallin’ obeah cheers.

 

Preechah Weed he got so ’cited

Dat he run clah out his coat,

Fell ergin de stobe kerwollup!

Butt his haid an’ swo’ by note.

But he jump’d up in er jiffy,

Feelin’ lak he was befo’,

Gibb er ban’ spring fo’ dat chicken,

But by Jinks he’s mos’ too slo’.

’Dough he hit he’s haid er stunnah,

Diden’ eben make er dent,

Kaze, he’s so much lak de debbil,

Haid was hard ez adament.

All de time de res’ was skufflin’

An’ er kickin’ right an’ lef’,

Got so bunkshus an’ bumbastic

Dey kood hahdly ’tain deyse’f.

Loudah! Loudah! Got de janglin’

Mo’ an’ mo’ dey ring’d dey bluf’,

Wuss de grabbin’ fo’ de chicken

Den’s when dey got at it ruf.

Sum done pullin’ out dey razzahs

An’ er kyahvin’ fo’ de koh.

All de sistahs got to axin’

Lawd sake leeb us out de doh!

Fin’ly Bruddah Moses wid er

Kinedah p’culiar kine er trick,

 

Kotch’d de poultry, made er bee-line,

Cut er reg’lah dubble quick.

Den sum swo’ day had bin kunjud,

Uddahs ’clahd dey’d bin hoo-dood,

Lef’ de ch’ch er swahin’ vengeance

In de wusses’ kine er mood.

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