by Maya Angelou
This is my torture
My long nights, lone
Kin
FOR BAILEY
We were entwined in red rings
Of blood and loneliness before
The first snows fell
Before muddy rivers seeded clouds
Above a virgin forest, and
Men ran naked, blue and black
Skinned into the warm embraces
Of Sheba, Eve and Lilith.
I was your sister.
You left me to force strangers
Into brother molds, exacting
Taxations they never
Owed or could ever pay.
You fought to die, thinking
In destruction lies the seed
Of birth. You may be right.
I will remember silent walks in
Southern woods and long talks
In low voices
Shielding meaning from the big ears
Of overcurious adults.
You may be right.
Your slow return from
Regions of terror and bloody
Screams, races my heart.
I hear again the laughter
Of children and see fireflies
Bursting tiny explosions in
An Arkansas twilight.
The Memory
Cotton rows crisscross the world
And dead-tired nights of yearning
Thunderbolts on leather strops
And all my body burning
Sugar cane reach up to God
And every baby crying
Shame the blanket of my night
And all my days are dying
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.
Ain't That Bad?
Dancin’ the funky chicken
Eatin’ ribs and tips
Diggin’ all the latest sounds
And drinkin’ gin in sips.
Puttin’ down that do-rag
Tightenin’ up my ‘fro
Wrappin’ up in Blackness
Don't I shine and glow?
Hearin’ Stevie Wonder
Cookin’ beans and rice
Goin’ to the opera
Checkin’ out Leontyne Price.
Get down, Jesse Jackson
Dance on, Alvin Ailey
Talk, Miss Barbara Jordan
Groove, Miss Pearlie Bailey.
Now ain't they bad?
An’ ain't they Black?
An’ ain't they Black?
An’ ain't they bad?
An’ ain't they bad?
An’ ain't they Black?
An’ ain't they fine?
Black like the hour of the night
When your love turns and wriggles close to your side
Black as the earth which has given birth
To nations, and when all else is gone will abide.
Bad as the storm that leaps raging from the heavens
Bringing the welcome rain
Bad as the sun burning orange hot at midday
Lifting the waters again.
Arthur Ashe on the tennis court
Mohammed Ali in the ring
André Watts and Andrew Young
Black men doing their thing.
Dressing in purples and pinks and greens
Exotic as rum and Cokes
Living our lives with flash and style
Ain't we colorful folks?
Now ain't we bad?
An’ ain't we Black?
An’ ain't we Black?
An’ ain't we bad?
An’ ain't we bad?
An’ ain't we Black?
An’ ain't we fine?
Life Doesn't Frighten Me
Shadows on the wall
Noises down the hall
Life doesn't frighten me at all
Bad dogs barking loud
Big ghosts in a cloud
Life doesn't frighten me at all.
Mean old Mother Goose
Lions on the loose
They don't frighten me at all
Dragons breathing flame
On my counterpane
That doesn't frighten me at all.
I go boo
Make them shoo
I make funWay they run
I won't crySo they fly
I just smile
They go wild
Life doesn't frighten me at all.
Tough guys in a fight
All alone at night
Life doesn't frighten me at all.
Panthers in the park Strangers in the dark
No, they don't frighten me at all.
That new classroom where
Boys all pull my hair
(Kissy little girls
With their hair in curls)
They don't frighten me at all.
Don't show me frogs and snakes
And listen for my scream,
If I'm afraid at all
It's only in my dreams.
I've got a magic charm
That I keep up my sleeve,
I can walk the ocean floor
And never have to breathe.
Life doesn't frighten me at all
Not at all
Not at all.
Life doesn't frighten me at all.
Bump d'Bump
Play me a game like Blind Man's dance
And bind my eyes with ignorance
Bump d'bump bump d'bump.
Tell my life with a liquor sign
Or a cooking spoon from the five-and-dime
And a junkie reel in two/four time
Bump d'bump bump d'bump.
Call me a name from an ugly south
Like liver lips and satchel mouth
Bump d'bump bump d'bump.
I'll play possum and close my eyes
To your greater sins and my lesser lies
That way I share my nation's prize
Bump d'bump bump d'bump.
I may be last in the welfare line
Below the rim where the sun don't shine
But getting up stays on my mind
Bump d'bump bump d'bump.
On Aging
When you se
e me sitting quietly,
Like a sack left on the shelf,
Don't think I need your
chattering. I'm listening to myself.
Hold! Stop! Don't pity me!
Hold! Stop your sympathy!
Understanding if you got it,
Otherwise I'll do without it!
When my bones are stiff and aching,
And my feet won't climb the stair,
I will only ask one favor:
Don't bring me no rocking chair.
When you see me walking, stumbling,
Don't study and get it wrong.
‘Cause tired don't mean lazy
And every goodbye ain't gone.
I'm the same person I was back then,
A little less hair, a little less chin,
A lot less lungs and much less wind.
But ain't I lucky I can still breathe in.
In Retrospect
Last year changed its seasons
subtly, stripped its sultry winds
for the reds of dying leaves,
let gelid drips of winter ice melt onto
a warming earth and urged the dormant
bulbs to brave the
pain of spring.
We, loving, above the whim of
time, did not notice.
Alone. I remember now.
Just Like Job
My Lord, my Lord,
Long have I cried out to Thee
In the heat of the sun,
The cool of the moon,
My screams searched the heavens for Thee.
My God,
When my blanket was nothing but dew,
Rags and bones
Were all I owned,
I chanted Your name
Just like Job.
Father, Father,
My life give I gladly to Thee
Deep rivers ahead
High mountains above
My soul wants only Your love
But fears gather round like wolves in the dark.
Have You forgotten my name?
O Lord, come to Your child.
O Lord, forget me not.
You said to lean on Your arm
And I'm leaning
You said to trust in Your love
And I'm trusting
You said to call on Your name
And I'm calling
I'm stepping out on Your word. You said You'd be my protection,
My only and glorious saviour,
My beautiful Rose of Sharon,
And I'm stepping out on Your word.
Joy Joy
Your word.
Joy Joy
The wonderful word of the Son of God.
You said that You would take me to glory
To sit down at the welcome table
Rejoice with my mother in heaven
And I'm stepping out on Your word.
Into the alleys
Into the byways
Into the streets
And the roads
And the highways
Past rumor mongers
And midnight ramblers
Past the liars and the cheaters and the gamblers
On Your word
On Your word.
On the wonderful word of the Son of God.
I'm stepping out on Your word.
Call Letters: Mrs. V. B.
Ships?
Sure I'll sail them.
Show me the boat,
If it'll float,
I'll sail it.
Men?
Yes I'll love them.
If they've got the style,
To make me smile,
I'll love them.
Life?
‘Course I'll live it.
Let me have breath,
Just to my death,
And I'll live it.
Failure?
I'm not ashamed to tell it,
I never learned to spell it.
Not Failure.
Thank You, Lord
I see You
Brown-skinned,
Neat Afro,
Full lips,
A little goatee.
A Malcolm,
Martin,
Du Bois.
Sunday services become sweeter when You're Black,
Then I don't have to explain why
I was out balling the town down,
Saturday night.
Thank you, Lord.
I want to thank You, Lord,
For life and all that's in it.
Thank You for the day
And for the hour and for the minute.
I know many are gone,
I'm still living on,
I want to thank You.
I went to sleep last night
And I arose with the dawn,
I know that there are others
Who're still sleeping on,
They've gone away,
You've let me stay.
I want to thank You. Some thought because they'd seen sunrise
They'd see it rise again.
But death crept into their sleeping beds
And took them by the hand.
Because of Your mercy,
I have another day to live.
Let me humbly say,
Thank You for this day
I want to thank You.
I was once a sinner man,
Living unsaved and wild,
Taking my chances in a dangerous world,
Putting my soul on trial.
Because of Your mercy,
Falling down on me like rain,
Because of Your mercy,
When I die I'll live again,
Let me humbly say,
Thank You for this day.
I want to thank You.
Another book for
GUY JOHNSON
and
COLIN ASHANTI MURPHY JOHNSON
Thanks to
ELEANOR TRAYLOR
for her radiance
ELIZABETH PHILLIPS
for her art
RUTH BECKFORD
for her constancy
Awaking in New York
Curtains forcing their will
against the wind,
children sleep,
exchanging dreams with
seraphim. The city
drags itself awake on
subway straps; and
I, an alarm, awake as
a rumor of war,
lie stretching into dawn,
unasked and unheeded.
A Good Woman Feeling Bad
The blues may be the life you've led
Or midnight hours in
An empty bed. But persecuting
Blues I've known
Could stalk
Like tigers, break like bone,
Pend like rope in
A gallows tree,
Make me curse
My pedigree,
Bitterness thick on
A rankling tongue,
A psalm to love that's
Left unsung,
Rivers heading north
But ending South,
Funeral music
In a going-home mouth.
All riddles are blues,
And all blues are sad,
And I'm only mentioning
Some blues I've had.
The Health-Food Diner
No sprouted wheat and soya shoots
And brussels in a cake,
Carrot straw and spinach raw
(Today, I need a steak).
Not thick brown rice and rice pilau
Or mushrooms creamed on toast,
Turnips mashed and parsnips hashed
(I'm dreaming of a roast).
Health-food folks around the world
Are thinned by anxious zeal,
They look for help in seafood kelp
(I count on breaded veal).
No Smoking signs, raw mustard greens,
Zucc
hini by the ton,
Uncooked kale and bodies frail
Are sure to make me run
to
Loins of pork and chicken thighs
And standing rib, so prime,
Pork chops brown and fresh ground round
(I crave them all the time). Irish stews and boiled corned beef
And hot dogs by the scores,
Or any place that saves a space
For smoking carnivores.
A Georgia Song
We swallow the odors of Southern cities,
Fatback boiled to submission,
Tender evening poignancies of
Magnolia and the great green
Smell of fresh sweat.
In Southern fields,
The sound of distant
Feet running, or dancing,
And the liquid notes of
Sorrow songs,
Waltzes, screams and
French quadrilles float over
The loam of Georgia.
Sing me to sleep, Savannah.
Clocks run down in Tara's halls and dusty
Flags droop their unbearable
Sadness.
Remember our days, Susannah.
Oh, the blood-red clay,
Wet still with ancient
Wrongs, and Abenaa
Singing her Creole airs to
Macon.
We long, dazed, for winter evenings And a whitened moon,
And the snap of controllable fires.
Cry for our souls, Augusta.
We need a wind to strike
Sharply, as the thought of love
Betrayed can stop the heart.
An absence of tactile