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 
I rise 
Up from a past that's rooted in pain 
I rise 
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, 
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. 
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear 
I rise 
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear 
I rise 
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, 
I am the dream and the hope of the slave. 
I rise 
I rise 
I rise

I really enjoyed the "field trip" to Tuscana Ristorante, it's was a break from the norm and the environment, to me personally, was quite conducive for unrestricted literary discussions. I had a great time talking to Danielle, Faith, and Katelyn about their literature tastes and found that Faith and I shared a common interest. That day I opted to being poems by Maya Angelou (Still I Rise and Phenomenal Woman) and we both really admire her work.

"Still I Rise" has been one of the literary poetic works that I have admired for quite sometime.   Maya Angelou has the type of voice that commands the attention of the audience so much so that it is almost magical. It goes in depth in very little words, you can feel the power behind the words of this poem. She makes the statement, "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. The reader is left to read it with their own interpretation, because everyone has a point in their life where they had to "rise" from difficult circumstances. Whether it is from personal failure or something that was caused by other external circumstances.

For me it was the verse "Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave." As an African-American, I can really identify with this line because my great-great grandfathers on both sides of my family were slaves. And I am only the second generation on my mother's side of the family to attend college. So this poem really resonates as somewhat of a personal reflection for me. When you think about that era many think that it was so long ago but it wasn't. I am proud to be the living and breathing hope of those who have gone before me.

In sharing this literature, and how it is important to you personally, you are allowing to people to see a part of the "real you" (how you think, what moves you, and motivates you). It's like taking off a mask and showing who you really are and what makes you tick and regardless of what it is you are more appreciated for your tastes.