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Lola Ridge: 4 Poems


Lola Ridge

(1873-1941)

 

BABEL

   Oh, God did cunningly, there at Babel–

  Not mere tongues dividing, but soul from soul,

  So that never again should men be able

  To fashion one infinite, towering whole.

 

BROOKLYN BRIDGE

   Pythoness body–arching

  Over the night like an ecstasy–

  I feel your coils tightening…

  And the world’s lessening breath.

 

DREAMS

   Men die…

  Dreams only change their houses.

  They cannot be lined up against a wall

  And quietly buried under ground,

  And no more heard of…

  However deep the pit and heaped the clay–

  Like seedlings of old time

  Hooding a sacred rose under the ice cap of the world–

  Dreams will to light.

 

LULLABY

   Rock-a-by baby, woolly and brown…

  (There’s a shout at the door an’ a big red light…)

  Lil’ coon baby, mammy is down…

  Han’s that hold yuh are steady an’ white…

 

  Look piccaninny–such a gran’ blaze

  Lickin’ up the roof an’ the sticks of home–

  Ever see the like in all yo’ days!

  –Cain’t yuh sleep, mah bit-of-honey-comb?

 

  Rock-a-by baby, up to the sky!

  Look at the cherries driftin’ by–

  Bright red cherries spilled on the groun’–

  Piping-hot cherries at nuthin’ a poun’!

 

  Hush, mah lil’ black-bug–doan yuh weep.

  Daddy’s run away an’ mammy’s in a heap

  By her own fron’ door in the blazin’ heat

  Outah the shacks like warts on the street…

 

  An’ the singin’ flame an’ the gleeful crowd

  Circlin’ aroun’… won’t mammy be proud!

  With a stone at her hade an’ a stone on her heart,

  An’ her mouth like a red plum, broken apart…

 

  See where the blue an’ khaki prance,

  Adding brave colors to the dance

  About the big bonfire white folks make–

  Such gran’ doin’s fo’ a lil’ coon’s sake!

 

  Hear all the eagah feet runnin’ in town–

  See all the willin’ han’s reach outah night–

  Han’s that are wonderful, steady an’ white!

  To toss up a lil’ babe, blinkin’ an’ brown…

 

  Rock-a-by baby–higher an’ higher!

  Mammy is sleepin’ an’ daddy’s run lame…

  (Soun’ may yuh sleep in yo’ cradle o’ fire!)

  Rock-a-by baby, hushed in the flame…

 

(An incident of the East St. Louis Race Riots, when some white women

flung a living colored baby into the heart of a blazing fire.)

 

LOLA RIDGE POETRY

kempis.nl # kempis poetry magazine

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