maya angelou died today. what an inspiration she was, and will continue to be. She was 86 years old.
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread 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.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged diamond, dream, fear, maya angelou, moon, sexiness, slave, still i rise, sun, terror | Leave a Comment »
Now is the time to know
That all that you do is sacred.
Now, why not consider
A lasting truce with yourself and God.
Now is the time to understand
That all your ideas of right and wrong
Were just a child’s training wheels
To be laid aside
When you finally live
Hafiz is a divine envoy
Whom the Beloved
Has written a holy message upon.
My dear, please tell me,
Why do you still
Throw sticks at your heart
What is it in that sweet voice inside
That incites you to fear?
Now is the time for the world to know
That every thought and action is sacred.
This is the time
For you to compute the impossibility
That there is anything
Now is the season to know
That everything you do
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged God, grace, hafiz, heart. beloved, sacred | Leave a Comment »
In my house lives the most beautiful wild animal.
Bus she is sad.
She has lost her forest.
She has lost her tribe.
Her very language is almost gone, dissolved
in sorrow and disuse.
What can you do to comfort such a creature?
She stares out of the windows and longs to go somewhere —-
The nothingness of the days exhausts her.
Have you ever seen an animal weep?
When I touch her she looks at me with that
lost world in her eyes —
hopeful, but trembling.
Posted in poetry | Tagged animal, trembling, weep, wild | Leave a Comment »
i adore the poet rumi. much of his work i don’t understand, but the simpler pieces such as this excerpt, give me both beauty and repose…..
“The breeze at dawn
Has secrets to tell you
Don’t go back to sleep
You must ask
For what you really want
Don’t go back to sleep
People are going back and forth
Across the doorsill
Where the two worlds touch
The door is round and open
Don’t go back to sleep
~ by Rumi
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged breeze, dawn, rumi, secrets, sleep | Leave a Comment »
” my definition of magic in the human personality, in fiction, and in poetry, is the ultimate level of attentiveness… when I say attentiveness i don’t mean just to reality, but to what is exponentially possible in reality.”
loving this quote!! :-)
and a link to my first take on magick. :-)
“After Prague, I learned that you can try to stalk magic, but more often than not, it is going to stalk you, and only show up when you are ready, and open enough to receive it. This is why, these days, I am seeing magic in everything – a flower bud about to open is magic, as well as its seeds. So are the eggs in a bird’s nest, a spider crossing my desk, a rainbow or a sunset, and yes, even the innards of an animal I cannot recognize…”
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged blurb, chasingmagick, jim harrison, magic, poetry, reality. prague. stalk, spider | Leave a Comment »
Let’s not get romantic or dismal about death.
Indeed it’s our most unique act along with birth.
We must think of it as cooking breakfast,
it’s that ordinary. Break two eggs into a bowl
or break a bowl into two eggs. Slip into a coffin
after the fluids have been drained, or better yet,
slide into the fire. Of course it’s a little hard
to accept your last kiss, your last drink,
your last meal about which the condemned
can be quite particular as if there could be
a cheeseburger sent by God. A few lovers
sweep by the inner eye, but it’s mostly a placid
lake at dawn, mist rising, a solitary loon
call, and staring into the still, opaque water.
We’ll know as children again all that we are
destined to know, that the water is cold
and deep, and the sun penetrates only so far.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged birth, cheseburger, children, coffin, eggs, God, kiss, lovers | Leave a Comment »
this bit was written by ( i think) garrett hongo. i tore it out of a coppercanyonpress.org catalog.
“The Chinese have a word for poet that means ” sorcerer” or ” magician” but it also mans ” hermit”. The notion contains within it an idea of the poet as an alchemist of the human spirit, poetry as a kind of spiritual pharmaceutical.
But society still remains and so does the world. What can poems do for them?I’m fairly Confucian about this question and believe that if poems can order our thinking and inspire noble emotions within us, then in doing these things, they indirectly help the world. Poems inspire jen, a kind of metaphysical propriety and liberation within us that we need to keep going….”
….the spiritual pharmaceutical idea, liking that….
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged coppercanyonpress.com, hermit, magician, noble emotions, sorceress, spiritual phrmaceutical | Leave a Comment »