12 hours ago
Thursday, May 7, 2009
I See The Sun!
I have been reading, and enjoying some new books of poetry, so I thought I would share one of mine and one of Maya Angelou's...
~ Texas Skies by E Stelling ~
Clouds dot clear skies in Texas like mesquite and tumbleweeds blowing along old highways. Taking shape like when a woman catch’s a glance from a tall and lanky cowboy who smiles, and tips his hat; that leads to conversation laced with flirtation. Becoming a date and a beer down at the local bar; then maybe a scoot across the saw dust dance floor; where he pulls her in close giving off a hint he wants more. His face leans into hers. Loneliness, maybe love brings on a kiss that may or may not be what either were looking for at a night’s end. All that is left is a scene of rustled blankets, musty bed sheets, and an empty room filled with vast memories like Texas skies dotted with pretty white clouds that can take on shapes that remind us of so many things.
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
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.