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Poetry
Jul 5, 2008 22:29:58 GMT -5
Post by ladyk on Jul 5, 2008 22:29:58 GMT -5
Oh no. I was directing my question at msthomas. :lol:
I know of Maya Angelou, but I had never read her stuff until now, so thanks for posting. Ar these your favorites or something?
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Poetry
Jul 5, 2008 22:30:48 GMT -5
Post by momagarry on Jul 5, 2008 22:30:48 GMT -5
Yes, actually I love all of her work. She is a very intelligent woman ;D
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Poetry
Jul 5, 2008 22:31:48 GMT -5
Post by ladyk on Jul 5, 2008 22:31:48 GMT -5
That's really nice. Do you have a favorite?
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Poetry
Jul 5, 2008 22:33:06 GMT -5
Post by momagarry on Jul 5, 2008 22:33:06 GMT -5
yes this one is my favorite 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 back yard.
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.
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apoth
Junior Member
Posts: 95
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Poetry
Jul 5, 2008 22:34:03 GMT -5
Post by apoth on Jul 5, 2008 22:34:03 GMT -5
Nothing But Sunshine
Now when my mother died I had to take it in stride There ain't no room for pride in watching your father cry And dad made it until maybe a year later When they found his suicide inside of a grain elevator Got over it, I had no other offers or options Thought about whether or not mom and pop was watching Never bothered with caution, no time for fear Saw my folks carry fear for most my early years And I learned from it, turned numb and ignored the storm A burning sun waiting for the world to plummet Finished growing up under my uncle's roof He taught me how to count all the way up to 100 proof From watching him I learned how to gather nourishment Living off the different women that he had to nurture him And on the surface I became a normal pre-teen More afraid of nuclear war than snake bites and bee stings My best friend was my TV Game shows and cartoons substituted for puppies, rainbows, and balloons Now here I am, the shy type, and I think I'm doing alright Considering what it was like living my life
[Chorus (repeated)]
It's nothing but sunshine It's all sunshine It's nothing but sunshine
Now it's been 17 summers since I've seen my mother But every night I see her smile inside my dreams When I was younger I didn't actually see the accident happen But every night I see her smile as it shatters against the screams I can only imagine Dad's internal reaction Strain, inferno burning, bound in his brain What's it take to make a man who owns acres of land Abandon the family plan and drown himself in his grains I'm glad I left that farm in Northern Minnesota Where the time moves slower and the winters are colder Became a city boy, where everybody acts like they older Where they stick to themselves and keep a chip on they shoulder 26 years of age, no longer full of rage I think it's safe to say I've turned a page on my childhood days "Ay yo look Ma, I'm a productive member of society When I'm drunk I make noise, but otherwise I live quietly" And on the weekend I go back up north to reminisce Remember what it was like pretending to be a kid Late at night I walked the fields and lurk in the shadows Getting even with life by murdering cattle
-Atmosphere
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Poetry
Jul 5, 2008 22:34:33 GMT -5
Post by ladyk on Jul 5, 2008 22:34:33 GMT -5
Wow! I'm assuming that that particular poem has to do with some sort of feminism right?
I'm talking about the Still I Rise poem, btw. lol
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Poetry
Jul 5, 2008 22:35:41 GMT -5
Post by momagarry on Jul 5, 2008 22:35:41 GMT -5
Nice Peom Apoth.
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Poetry
Jul 5, 2008 22:37:03 GMT -5
Post by ladyk on Jul 5, 2008 22:37:03 GMT -5
I love that poem Apoth. Good choice. Is this "Atmosphere" the writer of this poem?
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Poetry
Jul 5, 2008 22:37:07 GMT -5
Post by msthomas23 on Jul 5, 2008 22:37:07 GMT -5
is that a song apoth?
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Poetry
Jul 5, 2008 22:37:55 GMT -5
Post by momagarry on Jul 5, 2008 22:37:55 GMT -5
INSOMNIAC Maya Angelou
There are some nights when sleep plays coy, aloof and disdainful. And all the wiles that I employ to win its service to my side are useless as wounded pride, and much more painful.
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Poetry
Jul 5, 2008 22:38:43 GMT -5
Post by ladyk on Jul 5, 2008 22:38:43 GMT -5
It looks like it is because of the whole chorus bit, but I assumed it was a poem that was sort of recited ya know? I don't know. lol
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Poetry
Jul 5, 2008 22:55:15 GMT -5
Post by msthomas23 on Jul 5, 2008 22:55:15 GMT -5
i know right lol its still nice but idk either
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Poetry
Jul 5, 2008 23:02:06 GMT -5
Post by msthomas23 on Jul 5, 2008 23:02:06 GMT -5
i know right lol its still nice but idk either
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Poetry
Jul 6, 2008 8:41:52 GMT -5
Post by ladyk on Jul 6, 2008 8:41:52 GMT -5
I meant to ask you this last night Moma. Are Maya's poems, such as Insomniac, about her personally? I know lots of poets draw from their own lives, but there are some who draw inspiration from the people around them.
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Poetry
Jul 6, 2008 14:44:27 GMT -5
Post by momagarry on Jul 6, 2008 14:44:27 GMT -5
I meant to ask you this last night Moma. Are Maya's poems, such as Insomniac, about her personally? I know lots of poets draw from their own lives, but there are some who draw inspiration from the people around them. Yes they are. I can definitly feel the emotions in the poems she writes.
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