Maya Angelou is okay in my book

As you all know, I like to write. And one of the inspirations for my interest is none other than Maya Angelou. My grandmother liked her stuff, I read her work at school. And I thought to myself... this is how I want to write. With wisdom and a bit of insight.

She had and indelible impact on humanity. A pioneer to say the least. To those saying she is a fraud, a racist, shame on you. Her body hasn't even been interred yet and you cannot resist the urge to denigrate her. She is most certainly okay in my book, Ms. Angelou.

And now that caged bird is free.

Not only was she a fine poet. She was also a great orator. I found her speech at Clinton's first inaugural address to be inspiring.
We should all take a page from her book on the use of language.
 
And just so the conservatives doubt my resolve to the conservative cause, no I will never be a liberal, no, I still think Obama sucks. Just because I admire Maya Angelou and Nelson Mandela does not make me a liberal. I can have role models without changing my core beliefs. I have a little bit more evolved sensibilities at least...

I can appreciate that, but why would you care how a few extremists view you. Being conservative doesn't mean you have to agree with a few bitter and hateful idiots who have zero class as they bash a woman before she is even buried.
 
And just so the conservatives doubt my resolve to the conservative cause, no I will never be a liberal, no, I still think Obama sucks. Just because I admire Maya Angelou and Nelson Mandela does not make me a liberal. I can have role models without changing my core beliefs. I have a little bit more evolved sensibilities at least...

I can appreciate that, but why would you care how a few extremists view you. Being conservative doesn't mean you have to agree with a few bitter and hateful idiots who have zero class as they bash a woman before she is even buried.

It avoids flame wars later on, i.e. 'evasive maneuvers'
 
And just so the conservatives doubt my resolve to the conservative cause, no I will never be a liberal, no, I still think Obama sucks. Just because I admire Maya Angelou and Nelson Mandela does not make me a liberal. I can have role models without changing my core beliefs. I have a little bit more evolved sensibilities at least...

I can appreciate that, but why would you care how a few extremists view you. Being conservative doesn't mean you have to agree with a few bitter and hateful idiots who have zero class as they bash a woman before she is even buried.

It avoids flame wars later on, i.e. 'evasive maneuvers'

Yeah, but it also legitimizes their hold on true conservatism. They need to be cast out like the pathetic little demons they are!
 
Maya Angelou was a top notch orator and a very strong woman not to mention her accomplishments as a poet and author. We just lost an American treasure.
 
I don't care what she said, or who she backed. It is wrong to attack someone before they are even buried in their final resting place.
Somehow I knew you would start a thread like this

The dictate that one 'not speak ill of the dead' is (at best) appropriate for private individuals, not influential public figures. ....
those who admire the deceased public figure (and their politics) aren't silent at all. They are aggressively exploiting the emotions generated by the person's death to create hagiography link
 
A Rock, A River, A Tree
Hosts to species long since departed,
Marked the mastodon.

The dinosaur, who left dry tokens
Of their sojourn here
On our planet floor,
Any broad alarm 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 more 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 spilling 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 the 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 Angelou
 
Surprised that TK likes her. And I thought he was leaving - to find himself or something.

She was a very wise woman. Next time I can get on line, I'll read more.


Sent from my iPhone using USMessageBoard.com
 
Hi, you have received -1014 reputation points from Matthew.
Reputation was given for this post.

Comment:
Go jump off a cliff you piece of shit. I hope you do soon.

Regards,
Matthew

lol
Standard angry rightie response there. They swear, then encourage poster x to commit suicide. Whatever happened to not turning another cheek? I don't neg people on this forum anymore, even if other people neg me.
 

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