Author Maya Angelou dies at age 86
Maya Angelou passes into history at age 86.
I hope your English teacher talked to you about her...May be the black students remembered her...May be your poetry club recited few of her poems on the PA...May be the library in your school displayed her novels and poetry books...
May be...Just may be...someone in the school mentioned her...
She was a legend.
She was a poet (I will not use the gender biased form of the word...) She was a poet...
She was a novelist...
And above all...She was a beautiful human being...VERY MUCH LIKE YOU...
During the summer...away from the depressing confines of the classrooms...celebrate the good things in life...and read Maya Angelou too...
One of Angelou's most praised books was "I
Know Why the Caged Bird Sings." The memoir bore witness to the brutality of a Jim
Crow South, portraying racism in stark language. Readers learned of the life of
Marguerite Ann Johnson (Angelou's birth name) up to the age of 16: how she was
abandoned by her parents and raped by her mother's boyfriend. She was homeless
and became a teen mother.
Couple of Quotes...from the Legendary Angelou...
"Our country needs us all right now to stand
up and be counted. We need to try to be great citizens. We are necessary in
this country, and we need to give something -- that is to say, go to a local
hospital, go to the children's ward and offer to the nurse in charge an hour
twice a month that you can give them reading children's stories or
poetry," she said. "And go to an old folks' home and read the
newspaper to somebody. Go to your church or your synagogue or your mosque, and
say, 'I'd like to be of service. I have one hour twice a month.'
"You'll be surprised at how much better you
will feel," she said. "And good done anywhere is good done
everywhere."
"Look where we've all come from ... coming out
of darkness, moving toward the light," she once said. "It is a long
journey, but a sweet one, bittersweet."
...And few poems...
Phenomenal Woman
Pretty
women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not
cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I
start to tell them,
They think
I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in
the reach of my arms,
The span
of my hips,
The stride
of my step,
The curl
of my lips.
I’m a
woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal
woman,
That’s me.
I walk
into a room
Just as
cool as you please,
And to a
man,
The
fellows stand or
Fall down
on their knees.
Then they
swarm around me,
A hive of
honey bees.
I say,
It’s the
fire in my eyes,
And the
flash of my teeth,
The swing
in my waist,
And the
joy in my feet.
I’m a
woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal
woman,
That’s me.
Men
themselves have wondered
What they
see in me.
They try
so much
But they
can’t touch
My inner
mystery.
When I try
to show them,
They say
they still can’t see.
I say,
It’s in
the arch of my back,
The sun of
my smile,
The ride
of my breasts,
The grace
of my style.
I’m a
woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal
woman,
That’s me.
Now you
understand
Just why
my head’s not bowed.
I don’t
shout or jump about
Or have to
talk real loud.
When you
see me passing,
It ought
to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in
the click of my heels,
The bend
of my hair,
the palm
of my hand,
The need
for my care.
’Cause I’m
a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal
woman,
That’s me.
***
Still I Rise
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
***
A free
bird leaps
on the
back of the wind
and floats
downstream
till the
current ends
and dips
his wing
in the
orange sun rays
and dares
to claim the sky.
But a bird
that stalks
down his
narrow cage
can seldom
see through
his bars
of rage
his wings
are clipped and
his feet
are tied
so he
opens his throat to sing.
The caged
bird sings
with a
fearful trill
of things
unknown
but longed
for still
and his
tune is heard
on the
distant hill
for the
caged bird
sings of
freedom.
The free
bird thinks of another breeze
and the
trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the
fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn
and he
names the sky his own
But a
caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow
shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings
are clipped and his feet are tied
so he
opens his throat to sing.
The caged
bird sings
with a
fearful trill
of things
unknown
but longed
for still
and his
tune is heard
on the
distant hill
for the
caged bird
sings of
freedom.
During the Summer of love and leisure and fun and games and friends and family and lakes and mountains and cottage and lake shore...
Read Angelou and do good things...and ENJOY....
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