Classic and Contemporary Poetry
PINKEY, by BENJAMIN FRANKLIN KING Poet's Biography First Line: I reckon wintah's going Last Line: Seems as if I couldn't wait. Alternate Author Name(s): King, Ben Subject(s): Spring | ||||||||
I RECKON wintah's goin' It's rainin' 'sted of snowin'. I tale yo' dar's no knowin' Jes' whar dis chile'll go. Might go to Souf Kyarlina, An' summah dar wid Dinah; I guess I'd cut a shine Among de coons I know. Den dar's my good ol' massa 'Way down in Tallahassie. He ain't fo' got dis sassie Chile dat used to sing. De why he call me "Pinkey" Was de colluh ob my crinkey Frock I wore so shrinky When I use to dance de fling. We gals out in de moonshine Would dance de good ol' coonjine, An' dreckly den we'd soon fin' Dat missus heah de noise. Den mighty quick she'd hurry Down dar all in a flurry, An' fin' dis huckleberry A-dancin' fo' de boys. An' den de way she'd take me, An' land ob goodness, shake me! Ol' missus raised an' brake me. No wondah I'se so good. Ol' missus used to tell me Dat like de cows she'd bell me, Or else she'd done go sell me To Yankees, I'se so rude. I 'membah Rasmus Biddle, As black as auntie's griddle; He used to play de fiddle, An' feet! umh! a holy show. An' dar was Luke an' Jaspah, Lucindy, Jude an' Caspah, Dat ignominyus, 'aspah- Ratin', on'ry lookin' moke. Dat ol' cush-footed, cramp-back, Dat essence ob ol' lampblack, Dat inside yih! yih! ob a smokestack, Us gals we called 'im smoke. An' dat new coon f'om Cuba, Dat use to play de tuba, He used to pat de juba, While I dance de Mobile buck. De ole banjo was a-pingin' An' dat pink frock a-swingin', Dis yaller chile a-wingin', Jes' hoein' down fo' luck. I ain't no Mobile niggah, I cut no Mobile figgah, But when yo' pull de triggah Yo' pestah dese heah shoes. An' when de fiddle's scrapin', Dar's too much music 'scapin', I'se got to git to shapin' Myself or git de blues. Yo' wondah dat I'se weary Fro all dese days so dreary, Dar ain't one fing dat's cheery 'Bout Shcawgo life fo' me. Dat's de raison dat I'se goin', Jes' as soon 'zit quits a-snowin', An' de col' win' stops a-blowin', Back to ole Kyarlina State. Dar de ivy am a-creepin'; Whar my po' ole muddah's sleepin'; Missus -- 'scuse me kase I'se weepin', Seems as if I couldn't wait. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPRING LEMONADE by TONY HOAGLAND A SPRING SONG by LYMAN WHITNEY ALLEN SPRING'S RETURN by GEORGE LAWRENCE ANDREWS ODE TO SPRING by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD ODE TO SPRING by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD SPRING FLOODS by MAURICE BARING SPRING IN WINTER by CHARLOTTE FISKE BATES SPRING ON THE PRAIRIE by HERBERT BATES THE FARMER'S BOY: SPRING by ROBERT BLOOMFIELD THE PESSIMIST by BENJAMIN FRANKLIN KING |
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