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More of Maya Angelou BiographyExtensive information from University of Cincinnati
Maya Angelou Home Page (Unofficial)Biography; text of several of her poems; interview; picture; more
Maya AngelouBiography from African American Literature Book Club; reviews; her inaugural poem, more
Maya AngelouBiography, bibliography. From Voices from the Gaps
Maya AngelouBiography; teaching resources; picture. Great site for teachers.
Lordly & Dame. Maya Angelou PageExcellent page from her representative firm; biography, works, awards
An Interview with Maya Angelou by David Frost
HomeArts: Maya Angelou--A Western Canon JuniorAngelou suggests books for young people
Maya AngelouPage devoted to her; Note: has e-mail Caged Bird Email List
Maya AngelouBiography and contact information. From Famous People
BibliographyMaya Angelou: An Annotated BibliographyIncludes print & non-print
Maya Angelou - CriticismBibliography of critical sources by Jay Brandes
"A Brave and Starting Truth"E-text of poem in honor of the 50th Anniversary of the United Nations
"The Black Family Pledge"Etext of the Kwanzaa poem
African American PoetsFull e-texts of several of Angelou's poems in addition to e-texts of poetry by other black poets
"Lift Every Voice and Sing"Etext of "The Negro National Anthem" by James Weldon Johnson
Maya Angelou - Links and ResourcesExtensive list of etexts and audio files
"Sympathy"By Paul Lawrence Dunbar. Space down; Etext follows book synopsis
Amazing GraceUnit Plan. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. Grades 7-8. By Ruth Wilson. From Yale New Haven Lesson Plans
A Middle School Approach to Black Literature: An Introduction to Dunbar, Johnson, Hughes, and AngelouUnit Plan. By Ivory Erkerd. From Yale New Haven Lesson Plans
Steps toward Writing PoetryUnit Plan. Grades 4-6. Just Give Me a Cool Drink of Water 'fore I Diiie By Pearl Mitchel. Yale New Haven Lesson Plans
Magic, Sass, and RageUnit Plan. 9th grade. By Bill Coden. From Yale New Haven Lesson Plans
Autobiography: Maya AngelouUnit Plan. Grades 10-12. By Anna Bartow. From Yale New Haven Lesson Plans
High School Arts: Dance for Literature and FilmUnit plan. By Cheree Knight. High School. Uses Angelou's poetry. From Yale-New Haven Lesson Plans
How the African-American Storyteller Impacts the Black Family and SocietyUnit plan by Barbara P. Moss. Black folktales, Afro-American folktales for Grade 6. From Yale New Haven Lesson Plans
Pathways to the Creative Imagination: "Creative Writing 101"
Unit plan by Gerene Freeman. Afro-American Literature. Grades 9 - 12. From Yale New Haven Lesson Plans
'poetry' for "special" StudentsSpecial education, language arts, grades 7-12. by Victoria Mallison. From Yale-New Haven
Black Birds of Promise Who Defy The Odds of Gods and Sing Their SongsUnit for middle school students with learning disabilities and some social emotional problems. By Celeste Y. Davis. From Yale New Haven Lesson Plans
The Civil Rights MovementFrom Core Knowledge Lesson Plans. Eighth Grade Language Arts. Space down to "I. Overview" ERIC files change frequently. If these links do not work correctly, please search ERICdirectly.
Translating Maya Angelou's Theme, "We are more alike, my friends/Than we are unalike" into Effective Multicultural StudyBy Beth Neman. ED384875
"Neighborhoods: Maya Angelou's `Harlem Hopscotch`" (Modern Poetry in the Classroom)By Sister J. Eleanor Mayer. EJ376079
The Courage of Their Convictions: Empowering Voices of GirlsBy Katherine Will. EJ492587
Maya Angelou: More Than a Poet. African-American BiographiesBy Elaine Silvinski Lisandrelli. ED418410
Teaching Freshmen Non-Readers, the A-literate MajorityBy Ron Tanner. ED280076
Let the Caged Bird Sing: Using Literature to Teach Developmental PsychologyBy Chris J. Boyatzis. ED340485
Hit List: Frequently Challenged Books for Young AdultsBy Merri M. Monks and Donna Reidy Pistolis. ED397855
Extraordinary African AmericansBy Nancy Lobb. ED393954
The Black Scholar Interviews: Maya AngelouEJ154368
Female Role Models: Implications for LeadershipBy Roberta R. Daniels. EJ505051
Sweet Words So Brave: The Story of African American LiteratureBy James Michael Brodie and Barbara K. Curry. ED408605
"Reconstructing" Lives: A Reading for Empowerment ProjectBy Nanthalia W. McJamerson and others. ED407662
Trials, Tribulations, and Celebrations: African-American Perspectives on Health, Illness, Aging and LossBy Marian Gray Secundy and Lois LaCivita Nixon. ED352288
The NEW Magazine. Original Writings by Participants in NEW's Adult Basic Education ProgramED325615
Shaping the New World Order: International Cultural Opportunities and the Private Sector. Edited Proceedings of an International Cultural ForumBy Malcolm Richardson, ed. and others. ED350889
Astute Activities: Increasing Cognitive and Creative Development in the Language Arts ClassroomLois Marie Zinke Bay. ED 295156
Expanding the Canon: Bridges to Understanding. Articles from English Journal, 1987-89Faith Z. Schullstrom, Comp. ED326880
Portraits: Biography and Autobiography in the Secondary SchoolEdited by Margaret Fleming and Jo McGinnis. ED253884
Challenges in Reading: Twelfth Yearbook of the College Reading Association, 1990By Nancy D. Padak, ed. and others. ED324639
An Argument for an Integrated Approach to Teaching Southern Literature in the Two-Year CollegeBy Grace Ellis. EJ181367
A Critical Look at Literature Worth TeachingBy Robert C. Small, Jr. and Patricia P. Kelly, eds. ED284201
A Gathering of Equals. A National Conversation on American Pluralism and Identity. Reading Selections [and] Guide for LeadersBy ED390782. [Great Books Curriculum]
Literary Maps for Young Adult LiteratureBy Mary Ellen Snodgrass. ED414221
SELECTED POETRY OF MAYA ANGELOU
"Phenomenal Woman"
"Still I Rise"
"Men"
"Remembrance"
"A Conceit"
"Touched By An Angel"
"I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings"
"When You Come To Me"
"The Rock Cries Out To Us Today"
.........1993 Clinton Inaugural Poem "Refusal""The Lesson"
"Phenomenal Woman"
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
"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.
"Men"
When I was young, I used to
Watch behind the curtains
As men walked up and down the street. Wino men, old men.
Young men sharp as mustard.
See them. Men are always
Going somewhere.
They knew I was there. Fifteen
Years old and starving for them.
Under my window, they would pauses,
Their shoulders high like the
Breasts of a young girl,
Jacket tails slapping over
Those behinds,
Men.
One day they hold you in the
Palms of their hands, gentle, as if you
Were the last raw egg in the world. Then
They tighten up. Just a little. The
First squeeze is nice. A quick hug.
Soft into your defenselessness. A little
More. The hurt begins. Wrench out a
Smile that slides around the fear. When the
Air disappears,
Your mind pops, exploding fiercely, briefly,
Like the head of a kitchen match. Shattered.
It is your juice
That runs down their legs. Staining their shoes.
When the earth rights itself again,
And taste tries to return to the tongue,
Your body has slammed shut. Forever.
No keys exist.
Then the window draws full upon
Your mind. There, just beyond
The sway of curtains, men walk.
Knowing something.
Going someplace.
But this time, I will simply
Stand and watch.
Maybe.
"Rememberance"
Your hands easy
weight, teasing the bees
hived in my hair, your smile at the
slope of my cheek. On the
occasion, you press
above me, glowing, spouting
readiness, mystery rapes
my reason
When you have withdrawn
your self and the magic, when
only the smell of your
love lingers between
my breasts, then, only
then, can I greedily consume
your presence.
"A Conceit"Give me your hand Make room for me
to lead and follow you
beyond this rage of poetry.
Let others have
the privacy of
touching words
and love of loss
of love.
For me
Give me your hand.
"Touched by An Angel"
We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.
Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.
We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.
"Refusal"
Beloved,
In what other lives or lands
Have I known your lips
Your Hands
Your Laughter brave
Irreverent.
Those sweet excesses that
I do adore.
What surety is there
That we will meet again,
On other worlds some
Future time undated.
I defy my body's haste.
Without the promise
Of one more sweet encounter
I will not deign to die
"The Lesson"
I keep on dying again.
Veins collapse, opening like the
Small fists of sleeping
Children.
Memory of old tombs,
Rotting flesh and worms do
Not convince me against
The challenge. The years
And cold defeat live deep in
Lines along my face.
They dull my eyes, yet
I keep on dying,
Because I love to live.
"I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings"
P free bird leaps
on the back of the win
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and is tune is heard
on the distant hill for the caged bird
sings of freedom
The free bird thinks of another breeze
an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
"When You Come"
When you come to me, unbidden,
Beckoning me
To long-ago rooms,
Where memories lie.
Offering me, as to a child, an attic,
Gatherings of days too few.
Baubles of stolen kisses.
Trinkets of borrowed loves.
Trunks of secret words,
I CRY.
"The Rock Cries Out To Us Today"
A Rock, A River, A Tree
Hosts to species long since departed,
Mark the mastodon.
The dinosaur, who left dry tokens
Of their sojourn here
On our planet floor,
Any broad alarm of their of their hastening doom
Is lost in the gloom of dust and ages.
But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully,
Come, you may stand upon my
Back and face your distant destiny,
But seek no haven in my shadow.
I will give you no hiding place down here.
You, created only a little lower than
The angels, have crouched too long in
The bruising darkness,
Have lain too long
Face down in ignorance.
Your mouths spelling words
Armed for slaughter.
The rock cries out today, you may stand on me,
But do not hide your face.
Across the wall of the world,
A river sings a beautiful song,
Come rest here by my side.
Each of you a bordered country,
Delicate and strangely made proud,
Yet thrusting perpetually under siege.
Your armed struggles for profit
Have left collars of waste upon
My shore, currents of debris upon my breast.
Yet, today I call you to my riverside,
If you will study war no more.
Come, clad in peace and I will sing the songs
The Creator gave to me when I
And the tree and stone were one.
Before cynicism was a bloody sear across your brow
And when you yet knew you still knew nothing.
The river sings and sings on.
There is a true yearning to respond to
The singing river and the wise rock.
So say the Asian, the Hispanic, the Jew,
The African and Native American, the Sioux,
The Catholic, the Muslim, the French, the Greek,
The Irish, the Rabbi, the Priest, the Sheikh,
The Gay, the Straight, the Preacher,
The privileged, the homeless, the teacher.
They hear. They all hear
The speaking of the tree.
Today, the first and last of every tree
Speaks to humankind. Come to me, here beside the river.
Plant yourself beside me, here beside the river.
Each of you, descendant of some passed on
Traveller, has been paid for.
You, who gave me my first name,
You Pawnee, Apache and Seneca,
You Cherokee Nation, who rested with me,
Then forced on bloody feet,
Left me to the employment of other seekers--
Desperate for gain, starving for gold.
You, the Turk, the Swede, the German, the Scot...
You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru,
Bought, sold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare
Praying for a dream.
Here, root yourselves beside me.
I am the tree planted by the river,
Which will not be moved.
I, the rock, I the river, I the tree
I am yours--your passages have been paid.
Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need
For this bright morning dawning for you.
History, despite its wrenching pain,
Cannot be unlived, and if faced with courage,
Need not be lived again.
Lift up your eyes upon
The day breaking for you.
Give birth again
To the dream.
Women, children, men,
Take it into the palms of your hands.
Mold it into the shape of your most
Private need. Sculpt it into
The image of your most public self.
Lift up your hearts.
Each new hour holds new chances
For new beginnings.
Do not be wedded forever
To fear, yoked eternally
To brutishness.
The horizon leans forward,
Offering you space to place new steps of change.
Here, on the pulse of this fine day
You may have the courage
To look up and out upon me,
The rock, the river, the tree, your country.
No less to Midas than the mendicant.
No less to you now than the mastodon then.
Here on the pulse of this new day
You may have the grace to look up and out
And into your sister's eyes,
Into your brother's face, your country
And say simply
Very simply
With hope
Good morning.
Maya's Postal Address: Professor Maya Angelou
Wake Forest University
P.O. Box 7314
Winston-Salem, NC 27109
To contact Maya's Representatives for booking events:Lordly & Dame, Inc.
51 Church Street
Boston, MA 02116
Phone #: 617-482-3593 |
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