I wrote a tribute to Maya Angelou in 2010 that I would like to share today in memory of a great poet. Please excuse the dated references.

I Know Why the Twitter Bird Tweets

The free bird leaps
on Google’s back
and scrolls down page
till the browser ends
and dips his wings
in Facebook rays
and dares to claim the internet.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow page
can seldom see through
his lists of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his claws to tweet.

The Twitter bird tweets
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tweet are read
on the distant hill
for the Twitter bird
tweets of freedom

The free bird may watch tivo'd Glee
And order up some good Chinese
and laugh as Sue Sylvester drones
On and on of kids off tone.

But Twitter bird stands on the grave of tweets
Getting “trends” for Trick or Treat
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his claws to tweet.

The Twitter bird tweets
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tweet is heard
on the distant hill
for the Twitter bird
tweets of freedom.

I don’t want to read anything about or

or from Maya Angelou

I don’t want.

I don't want to be sad

I know she must have been an amazing person

No, she had to be an amazing person

but I only heard her name once or twice

once or twice

in my life time, in her life time

So I don’t want to be sad that she is gone

That I never knew her

I don’t want to be sad

I don't want to be sad about not reading her material when she was alive.

Not knowing

I just don’t want to feel that way

Not knowing her

Rest in peace, beautiful human being.

Luann loves me, yes she do
I love Luann
And I love her all I can
I love Luann

Will you buy me diamonds dear?
Fast as I can
For you know that I love you
I love Luann

Luann loves me, yes she do
I love Luann
And I love her all I can
I love Luann

Will you marry me my dear?
Fast as I can
For you know that I love you
I love Luann

Luann loves me, yes she do
I love Luann
And I love her all I can
I love Luann
I love Luann

You thought you knew anger,
but it was spite in a thin foil wrapper,
poised like candy,
poisoned with tiger's whiskers.

Harbored depression since elementary,
but didn't know the weight till it was
in your stomach and your fists
and you cringe with pain
every time you talk.

Relieved to hear somebody say they can't
give a **** about what you feel like.
Medicine; snake oils,
cured to hear that you can't
give a **** about what I feel
like anyways.

God graced us with it's absence.

Thought you knew absence
middle school crying
in bed over how insignificant you are,
but bitter nihilism
dropping out of college twice
taught you emptiness.

Keep thinking that thought uncovers
more direction and technique,
beauty through function,
but
John Cage is meaningless as a system
and chaos as a instrument of
wonder and progress.

The amateurs think
about what the legends do.

That a lover,
(Poets, prepare,)

Might reply to your
Heart's semantic blood,

As
Such:

Stop using the word
"Love" in your poems.

Just say what you
Mean.

Just say what you really
*..."mean.

What you mean.
When you

Write
"Love.""