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David Yu, 15, huge fan of sports, photography, and boys. Follow me if we share the same interest! :)

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Still I Rise

Hey y'all,

Today I have a poem to share with all of you. Actually, it's not really a poem I found today- it just relates to my most recent post. The poem is written by Maya Angelou, an African-American woman who was a slave in her early life. She talks about how no matter what you do or say, she will always "
rise, like dust". 

This has really inspired me in many ways because of the amount of emotion addressed in this poem.
This is something I should definitely learn to do in terms of forgetting all about the ClassGov elections. When compared to her life, my "sadness" is like a Alvin the chipmunk, and Maya Angelou's is like King Kong. If even someone who's been through all this can forget something so intense, I feel ashamed not being able to. 

Still I Rise
by Maya Angelou

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.
Make sure you visit her website!
Here she is:

1 comment:

  1. Ohhh I love this post and this poem, especially! I'm actually reading her book: I know why the caged bird sings, and it made me think about the things you mentioned, like getting over the little things in life. toodles~~

    jesus (HAHAHAHHA- MEG)