Still I RiseYou may write me down in historyWith your bitter, twisted lies,You may trod me in the very dirtBut 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 wellsPumping 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 minesDiggin’ 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 surpriseThat I dance like I’ve got diamondsAt the meeting of my thighs?Out of the huts of history’s shameI riseUp from a past that’s rooted in painI riseI’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.Leaving behind nights of terror and fearI riseInto a daybreak that’s wondrously clearI riseBringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,I am the dream and the hope of the slave.I riseI riseI rise.
Tag: Poetry
“The Peace of Wild Things”
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day – blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
~ Wendell Berry
https://wallpapersafari.com/w/laFTXV
Poems: These two poems are from the lovely and talented Helen Falandes.
Do the Next Two Things
After the last friends depart
empty glasses and cups
are collected and washed,
the floor swept and that first night alone
the best I can do
is the next two things.
Feed the cat.
Make tea.
Shower.
Dress.
Braid my hair.
Discard the obvious junk mail.
This is how to get through
when the light and dark
are completely different
slants and hues,
when every moment’s routine
holds the unexpected news
of your absence.
Feed the cat.
Empty the dish rack.
Fold the blanket.
Clear the answering machine.
Pick up the empty can
tossed out by the mailbox.
Bless the dust which
can be wiped away,
dirty laundry that can be washed clean,
the path that can be shoveled clear of snow.
Bless the hungry cat.
~ Helen Falandes – 2/07
Start Again Now
Start again now
As often as needed
Choking on the dust of falling walls
Gather stones and bricks
Start again now
Glue the broken edges
Match up at least
The larger pieces
Start again now
Dislodge what blocks
The narrow airway
Hear ragged breath
As new music
Start again now
Gather the wooly tangles
Take two sticks
Re-knit any pattern
That forms itself to cloth
~ Helen Falandes
English 
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