SEVENTH ANNUAL BRIGID POETRY FESTIVAL

And with the festival:
https://www.facebook.com/BrigidPoetryFest
it seems time to post on my blog again. The first poem I want to post is one I feel to be my favourite at the moment:

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.

Maya Angelou