I come from a place
Where reality's a dream
We sleepwalk awake
Silent are the screams
Uncertainty is certain
Lies are absolute
Destruction just creates
The vital and minute
Of our intended mistakes
Reminded to forget
That giving only takes
I come from a place
Where eyes never see
Through the mists of illusion
Surrounding you and me
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
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.
From And Still I Rise by Maya Angelou. Copyright © 1978 by Maya Angelou.
I don't exist,
insist to miss me
in the mist
I will persist.
I don't matter,
scatter to the stars
when I arrive
to this shelter,
I will survive
buried in blood
you if you'd only
know I do
exist. I would
gather all of us
from this mist,
Studied your biography,
From childhood through adulthood,
And praise you for your courage,
Not to mention your endless talent,
That shone through the years of your life.
All your quotes astound me,
Showing such insight into life.
You loved your fellow man,
And all of the nature that surrounds.
Your career was fulfilling,
That you worked so hard to establish.
You shined on stage and in church,
Always acting and singing at your very best.
Talent for theater and dancing,
You set every stage aglow.
From "Porgy and Bess,"
To "Calypso Heat Wave,"
All happened in those 50's days.
The audiences were quite aware,
They were in the presence of talent,
When you sang, when you danced,
When you spoke and when you wrote.
We are blessed with your poetry,
And enthralled with your writing,
Embraced by the poem you wrote,
"On the Pulse of Morning" for the inauguration.
We will always remember your autobiographies,
Each and every book you wrote.
But you will be most remembered for your book,
"I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings."
You have left behind enough beauty,
Literature and quotes to last the world,
For centuries to come.
We thank you for giving,
And love you for being Maya Angelou.
©2016 by Lee Christine Brownlee
Light creates images for us,
the appearance of Reality.
All that we know, all that
seems so real, is playing
a part we have asked it to
play. Unmanifest Reality,
appearing as all forms,
and all phenomena.
All that we know
is a dance of shadows
ocean of bliss,
OR: “A brief treatise on Antediluvian Gayology ”
Said Demiurge to Samael:
“This universe is getting old.
Let’s break on through and fly beyond
to where the lead shines gold.”
Said Samael to Demiurge:
“I’m with you, dude. Let’s rock and roll
Let’s rip this veil of Maya in two
And glimpse the Oversoul…”
Replied his echo Demiurge:
“Devoid, divine, it’s ALL good, bro;
The sweetest wine is found within
Let liquid truth now flow…”
So Samael let drop the towel
And spread his doctrine’s orifice.
The mystic eye of gnosis shined
in luminous artifice.
Then Sam and Dem, conjoined like beasts
made cosmic love (in Koine Greek),
transforming gold to toxic lead –
and Truth into a freak.
The sound of my inamorato
Loneliness cries screaming deep in your soul
The feeling may still strong
This hurting shall not last long
It will ultimately pass
No more sobs no more cries
Dandelion will make you wise
Every split second heals
Bringing you to the genuine peace
Wind blows and black swaths
of None creep like
cockroaches in your kitchen.
Wind blows and you sit in mirage,
counting on fingers
meant for making karmic cracks,
tangles of tongues in echoes
of Nod. House sits on hill, your
gateway to Prajna sits on wind.
Wind blows and shade follows.
Welcome to the ranch of Santa
Enter through her doorway,
out of Maya and into dark-