Edited by Azizi Powell
This post showcases a video of tennis champion Serena Williams reciting Maya Angelou's poem "Still I Rise".
The content of this post is presented for cultural and inspirational purposes.
All copyrights remain with their owners.
Thanks to Maya Angelou and Serena Williams for their lives' legacies. Thanks also to the producer and publisher of this YouTube video.
****
STILL I RISE
(Maya Angelou, 1928 - 2014)
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 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 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.
From And Still I Rise by Maya Angelou. Copyright © 1978 by Maya Angelou. Reprinted by permission of Random House, Inc.
Source: https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/still-i-rise
Click https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maya_Angelou information about Maya Angelou.
Click https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Serena_Williams for information about Serena Williams.
****
SHOWCASE VIDEO- Serena Williams reads "Still I Rise" by Maya Angelou
Bear in the Woods, Published on Jul 9, 2016
Serena Williams reads 'Still I Rise' by Maya Angelou.
I disabled the comments because a lot of people weren't discussing the actual video but were instead insulting Serena Williams - either because of her skin colour or because of her body - or turning the comment section into a race war. I figured that disabling comments is the most acceptable solution for the many people wanting to enjoy the poem and the video without the comment section being turned into a minefield by the ones watching the video solely for the purpose of insulting Serena Williams.
****
Thanks for visiting pancocojams.
Visitor comments are welcome.
Showing posts with label Maya Angelou. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Maya Angelou. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 12, 2016
Thursday, May 29, 2014
Maya Angelou - "Seven Women's Blessed Assurance" & "The Mask"
Edited by Azizi Powell
This post honors the award winning American author and poet Maya Angelou by showcasing two of her poems - "Blessed Assurance" and "The Mask". Information about Maya Angelou (April 4, 1928 – May 28, 2014) can be found at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maya_Angelou
The content of this post is presented for cultural, entertainment, and aesthetic purposes.
All copyrights remain with their owners.
Thanks to Maya Angelou for her life's legacy. Thanks to the online publisher of this featured excerpt. Thanks also to the transcriber of this poem and the publisher of this video on YouTube.
****
SEVEN WOMEN'S BLESSED ASSURANCE
(Maya Angelou)
From http://departments.weber.edu/chfam/familiesalive/angelouspeech.html The Distinguished Annie Clark Tanner Lecture
16th-annual Families Alive Conference, Weber State University, May 8, 1997
...."I must do one more poem because I don't think you've laughed enough.
I told you I don't trust people who act that way (indicating). Yet some years ago Arsenio Hall telephoned me and asked if I would come onto his program.
I said "I thank you, Mr. Hall, but --"
He said "Oh, Doctor, no, ma'am. Don't -- Oh, no, ma'am. I'm just a commoner."
I said "Please, I don't know if I would have that much in common with your constituents."
But he was so persuasive, so I went on the program. And I enjoyed myself so much I went back eight times.
But the first time I did a piece called "Seven Women's Blessed Assurance," and I enjoyed it. And then I stayed around Los Angeles a little while, and then I flew from Los Angeles to Geneva, Switzerland, took a train over to another city and took the funicular up the side of the Alps to the foot of the Matterhorn, and there I gave a three-and-a-half-hour speech in French, English and Spanish, thank you. I was so full of (indicating). I mean, I was full of it.
I took the funicular back after about six days, and over to Geneva I went. And I was standing in the Geneva airport with an umbrella, my purse over my shoulder and a briefcase when a young white man came up to me. He said "Dr. Angelou?"
I said "Yes."
He said "Ms. Angelou."
I said "Oh."
He said "It's hard to believe, it's Ms. Angelou. I was in the audience at Arsenio Hall the night you did 'Seven Women's Blessed Assurance.'"
I said then, and I say now, "Woo-woo-woo." (indicating).
Nothing to do with it but to laugh. I laughed. Then I straightened up my umbrella that was way over there and the young man was gone.
And all those Swiss were looking at me like (indicating.)
And here is this piece which I wrote to make my ownself laugh.
The first woman said One thing about me, I'm little and low, I find me a man wherever I go.
The second woman said They call me string bean 'cause I'm so tall, men see me, they ready to fall.
The third woman said I'm fat as butter and sweet as cake, men start to tremble every time I shake.
The fourth woman said I'm young as morning and fresh as dew, everybody loves me, and so do you.
The fifth woman said I'm little and lean, sweet to the bone, they like to pick me up and carry me home.
The sixth woman said When I passed forty, I dropped pretense 'cause men like women who got some sense.
But the seventh woman is my favorite, for obvious reasons. The seventh woman said fifty-five is perfect, so is fifty-nine, 'cause every man needs to rest sometime."
****
THE MASK
(Maya Angelou, an adaptation of Paul Laurence Dunbar's "We Wear The Mask")
We wear the mask that grins and lies.
It shades our cheeks and hides our eyes.
This debt we pay to human guile
With torn and bleeding hearts…
We smile and mouth the myriad subtleties.
Why should the world think otherwise
In counting all our tears and sighs.
Nay let them only see us while
We wear the mask.
We smile but oh my God
Our tears to thee from tortured souls arise
And we sing Oh Baby doll, now we sing…
The clay is vile beneath our feet
And long the mile
But let the world think otherwise.
We wear the mask.
When I think about myself
I almost laugh myself to death.
My life has been one great big joke!
A dance that’s walked a song that’s spoke.
I laugh so hard HA! HA! I almos’ choke
When I think about myself.
Seventy years in these folks’ world
The child I works for calls me girl
I say “HA! HA! HA! Yes ma’am!”
For workin’s sake
I’m too proud to bend and
Too poor to break
So…I laugh! Until my stomach ache
When I think about myself.
My folks can make me split my side
I laugh so hard, HA! HA! I nearly died
The tales they tell sound just like lying
They grow the fruit but eat the rind.
Hmm huh! I laugh uhuh huh huh…
Until I start to cry when I think about myself
And my folks and the children.
My fathers sit on benches,
Their flesh count every plank,
The slats leave dents of darkness
Deep in their withered flank.
And they gnarled like broken candles,
All waxed and burned profound.
They say, but sugar, it was our submission
that made your world go round.
There in those pleated faces
I see the auction block
The chains and slavery’s coffles
The whip and lash and stock.
My fathers speak in voices
That shred my fact and sound
They say, but sugar, it was our submission
that made your world go round.
They laugh to conceal their crying,
They shuffle through their dreams
They stepped ’n fetched a country
And wrote the blues in screams.
I understand their meaning,
It could an did derive
From living on the edge of death
They kept my race alive
By wearing the mask! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
-snip-
Source: http://goldenbridgeinmate39.wordpress.com/2013/10/08/the-mask-by-maya-angelou/
The poem written by Maya Angelou begins with the line "When I think about myself".
Click http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Laurence_Dunbar for information about American poet, novelist, and playwright Paul Laurence Dunbar (June 27, 1872 – February 9, 1906)
****
Maya Angelou Poem "The Mask"
Russell Jones, Uploaded on Aug 8, 2010
As seen on Bobby Jones [Gospel television program]
****
Thanks for visiting pancocojams.
Visitors comments are welcome.
This post honors the award winning American author and poet Maya Angelou by showcasing two of her poems - "Blessed Assurance" and "The Mask". Information about Maya Angelou (April 4, 1928 – May 28, 2014) can be found at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maya_Angelou
The content of this post is presented for cultural, entertainment, and aesthetic purposes.
All copyrights remain with their owners.
Thanks to Maya Angelou for her life's legacy. Thanks to the online publisher of this featured excerpt. Thanks also to the transcriber of this poem and the publisher of this video on YouTube.
****
SEVEN WOMEN'S BLESSED ASSURANCE
(Maya Angelou)
From http://departments.weber.edu/chfam/familiesalive/angelouspeech.html The Distinguished Annie Clark Tanner Lecture
16th-annual Families Alive Conference, Weber State University, May 8, 1997
...."I must do one more poem because I don't think you've laughed enough.
I told you I don't trust people who act that way (indicating). Yet some years ago Arsenio Hall telephoned me and asked if I would come onto his program.
I said "I thank you, Mr. Hall, but --"
He said "Oh, Doctor, no, ma'am. Don't -- Oh, no, ma'am. I'm just a commoner."
I said "Please, I don't know if I would have that much in common with your constituents."
But he was so persuasive, so I went on the program. And I enjoyed myself so much I went back eight times.
But the first time I did a piece called "Seven Women's Blessed Assurance," and I enjoyed it. And then I stayed around Los Angeles a little while, and then I flew from Los Angeles to Geneva, Switzerland, took a train over to another city and took the funicular up the side of the Alps to the foot of the Matterhorn, and there I gave a three-and-a-half-hour speech in French, English and Spanish, thank you. I was so full of (indicating). I mean, I was full of it.
I took the funicular back after about six days, and over to Geneva I went. And I was standing in the Geneva airport with an umbrella, my purse over my shoulder and a briefcase when a young white man came up to me. He said "Dr. Angelou?"
I said "Yes."
He said "Ms. Angelou."
I said "Oh."
He said "It's hard to believe, it's Ms. Angelou. I was in the audience at Arsenio Hall the night you did 'Seven Women's Blessed Assurance.'"
I said then, and I say now, "Woo-woo-woo." (indicating).
Nothing to do with it but to laugh. I laughed. Then I straightened up my umbrella that was way over there and the young man was gone.
And all those Swiss were looking at me like (indicating.)
And here is this piece which I wrote to make my ownself laugh.
The first woman said One thing about me, I'm little and low, I find me a man wherever I go.
The second woman said They call me string bean 'cause I'm so tall, men see me, they ready to fall.
The third woman said I'm fat as butter and sweet as cake, men start to tremble every time I shake.
The fourth woman said I'm young as morning and fresh as dew, everybody loves me, and so do you.
The fifth woman said I'm little and lean, sweet to the bone, they like to pick me up and carry me home.
The sixth woman said When I passed forty, I dropped pretense 'cause men like women who got some sense.
But the seventh woman is my favorite, for obvious reasons. The seventh woman said fifty-five is perfect, so is fifty-nine, 'cause every man needs to rest sometime."
****
THE MASK
(Maya Angelou, an adaptation of Paul Laurence Dunbar's "We Wear The Mask")
We wear the mask that grins and lies.
It shades our cheeks and hides our eyes.
This debt we pay to human guile
With torn and bleeding hearts…
We smile and mouth the myriad subtleties.
Why should the world think otherwise
In counting all our tears and sighs.
Nay let them only see us while
We wear the mask.
We smile but oh my God
Our tears to thee from tortured souls arise
And we sing Oh Baby doll, now we sing…
The clay is vile beneath our feet
And long the mile
But let the world think otherwise.
We wear the mask.
When I think about myself
I almost laugh myself to death.
My life has been one great big joke!
A dance that’s walked a song that’s spoke.
I laugh so hard HA! HA! I almos’ choke
When I think about myself.
Seventy years in these folks’ world
The child I works for calls me girl
I say “HA! HA! HA! Yes ma’am!”
For workin’s sake
I’m too proud to bend and
Too poor to break
So…I laugh! Until my stomach ache
When I think about myself.
My folks can make me split my side
I laugh so hard, HA! HA! I nearly died
The tales they tell sound just like lying
They grow the fruit but eat the rind.
Hmm huh! I laugh uhuh huh huh…
Until I start to cry when I think about myself
And my folks and the children.
My fathers sit on benches,
Their flesh count every plank,
The slats leave dents of darkness
Deep in their withered flank.
And they gnarled like broken candles,
All waxed and burned profound.
They say, but sugar, it was our submission
that made your world go round.
There in those pleated faces
I see the auction block
The chains and slavery’s coffles
The whip and lash and stock.
My fathers speak in voices
That shred my fact and sound
They say, but sugar, it was our submission
that made your world go round.
They laugh to conceal their crying,
They shuffle through their dreams
They stepped ’n fetched a country
And wrote the blues in screams.
I understand their meaning,
It could an did derive
From living on the edge of death
They kept my race alive
By wearing the mask! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
-snip-
Source: http://goldenbridgeinmate39.wordpress.com/2013/10/08/the-mask-by-maya-angelou/
The poem written by Maya Angelou begins with the line "When I think about myself".
Click http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Laurence_Dunbar for information about American poet, novelist, and playwright Paul Laurence Dunbar (June 27, 1872 – February 9, 1906)
****
Maya Angelou Poem "The Mask"
Russell Jones, Uploaded on Aug 8, 2010
As seen on Bobby Jones [Gospel television program]
****
Thanks for visiting pancocojams.
Visitors comments are welcome.
Saturday, December 7, 2013
Maya Angelou - His Day Is Done (A Tribute To Nelson Mandela) video & transcript
Edited by Azizi Powell
This post showcases a video of Dr. Maya Angelou's spoken word tribute to South African anti-apartheid revolutionary, politician and philanthropist Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela (18 July 1918 – 5 December 2013).
A transcription of this spoken word trbute is also provided in this post.
The content of this post is presented for cultural, historical, educational, and aesthetic purposes.
All copyrights remain with their owners.
****
FEATURED VIDEO: His Day is Done - A Tribute Poem for Nelson Mandela by Dr. Maya Angelou
U.S. Department of State, Published on Dec 6, 2013
Video message delivered by Dr. Maya Angelou on behalf of the American people in memory of Nelson Mandela.
To view this video with captions in Afrikaans, Arabic, Chinese, Farsi, French, Hausa, Portuguese, Russian, Sesotho, Setswana, Spanish, Swahili, Wolof, Xhosa, or Zulu, please visit http://goo.gl/h6OeJC.
****
TRANSCRIPT OF "HIS DAY IS DONE"
(Maya Angelou)
His day is done.
Is done.
The news came on the wings of a wind
reluctant to carry its burden.
Nelson Mandela’s day is done.
The news expected and still unwelcome reached us in the United States
and suddenly our day became somber.
Our skies were leadened.
His day is done.
We see you South African people,
standing speechless at the slamming of that final door through which
no traveler returns.
Our spirits reach out to you – Bantu, Zulu, Xhosa, Boer.
We think of you and your son of Africa,
your father, your one more wonder of the world.
We send our souls to you as you reflect upon your David,
armed with a mere stone.
facing down the mighty Goliath.
Your man of strength,
Gideon emerging triumphant
although born in the brutal embrace of apartheid,
scarred by the savage atmosphere of racism,
unjustly imprisoned in the bloody maws of South African dungeons.
Would the man survive?
Could the man survive?
His answer strengthened men and women around the world.
In the Alamo in San Antonio, Texas,
on the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco,
in Chicago’s Loop
in New Orleans’ Mardi Gras,
in New York City’s Time Square,
we watched as the hope of Africa
sprang through the prison’s doors,
his stupendous heart intact,
his gargantuan will hale and hearty.
He had not been crippled by brutes,
nor was his passion for the rights of human beings
diminished by twenty-seven years of imprisonment.
Even here, in America, we felt the cool, refreshing breeze
of freedom when Nelson Mandela took the seat of Presidency
in his country where formerly
he was not even allowed to vote.
We were enlarged by tears of pride
as we saw Nelson Mandela‘s former prison guards invited, courteously,
by him to watch from the front rows his inauguration.
We saw him accept the world’s award in Norway
with the grace and gratitude of the Solon
in ancient Roman courts
and the confidences of African chiefs
from ancient royal stools.
No sun outlasts its sunset.
But, it will rise again and bring the dawn.
Yes, Mandela’s day is done.
Yet we, his inheritors,
will open the gates wider for reconciliation.
And we will respond generously
to the cries of Blacks and Whites,
Asians, Hispanics,
the poor who live piteously on the floor of our planet.
He has offered us understanding.
We will not withhold forgiveness
even from those who do not ask.
Nelson Mandela’s day is done.
We confess it in tearful voices.
Yet we lift our own to say thank you.
Thank you, our Gideon.
Thank you, our David,
our great, courageous man.
We will not forget you.
We will not dishonour you.
We will remember and be glad
that you lived among us,
that you taught us
and that you loved us
all.
-snip-
This transcription is from the copy of this video that was published online with English subtitles https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oTtufDpX1SA&list=PLmpmr41LhUA-ploCCn_OO0JzK49hOoejF&index=5
The background music for this spoken word video is the Gospel song "Oh Happy Day" which was composed by Edwin Hawkins.
Read my comment below about the use of the word "Bantu" in this spoken word composition.
****
Thank you Dr. Maya Angelou for this eloquently written and spoken tribute to Nelson Mandela. My thanks to Madiba Nelson Mandela for his life's legacy. Thanks to the publisher of this video on YouTube.
Thank you for visiting pancocojams.
Visitor comments are welcome.
RIP Mandiba Nelson Mandela!
This post showcases a video of Dr. Maya Angelou's spoken word tribute to South African anti-apartheid revolutionary, politician and philanthropist Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela (18 July 1918 – 5 December 2013).
A transcription of this spoken word trbute is also provided in this post.
The content of this post is presented for cultural, historical, educational, and aesthetic purposes.
All copyrights remain with their owners.
****
FEATURED VIDEO: His Day is Done - A Tribute Poem for Nelson Mandela by Dr. Maya Angelou
U.S. Department of State, Published on Dec 6, 2013
Video message delivered by Dr. Maya Angelou on behalf of the American people in memory of Nelson Mandela.
To view this video with captions in Afrikaans, Arabic, Chinese, Farsi, French, Hausa, Portuguese, Russian, Sesotho, Setswana, Spanish, Swahili, Wolof, Xhosa, or Zulu, please visit http://goo.gl/h6OeJC.
****
TRANSCRIPT OF "HIS DAY IS DONE"
(Maya Angelou)
His day is done.
Is done.
The news came on the wings of a wind
reluctant to carry its burden.
Nelson Mandela’s day is done.
The news expected and still unwelcome reached us in the United States
and suddenly our day became somber.
Our skies were leadened.
His day is done.
We see you South African people,
standing speechless at the slamming of that final door through which
no traveler returns.
Our spirits reach out to you – Bantu, Zulu, Xhosa, Boer.
We think of you and your son of Africa,
your father, your one more wonder of the world.
We send our souls to you as you reflect upon your David,
armed with a mere stone.
facing down the mighty Goliath.
Your man of strength,
Gideon emerging triumphant
although born in the brutal embrace of apartheid,
scarred by the savage atmosphere of racism,
unjustly imprisoned in the bloody maws of South African dungeons.
Would the man survive?
Could the man survive?
His answer strengthened men and women around the world.
In the Alamo in San Antonio, Texas,
on the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco,
in Chicago’s Loop
in New Orleans’ Mardi Gras,
in New York City’s Time Square,
we watched as the hope of Africa
sprang through the prison’s doors,
his stupendous heart intact,
his gargantuan will hale and hearty.
He had not been crippled by brutes,
nor was his passion for the rights of human beings
diminished by twenty-seven years of imprisonment.
Even here, in America, we felt the cool, refreshing breeze
of freedom when Nelson Mandela took the seat of Presidency
in his country where formerly
he was not even allowed to vote.
We were enlarged by tears of pride
as we saw Nelson Mandela‘s former prison guards invited, courteously,
by him to watch from the front rows his inauguration.
We saw him accept the world’s award in Norway
with the grace and gratitude of the Solon
in ancient Roman courts
and the confidences of African chiefs
from ancient royal stools.
No sun outlasts its sunset.
But, it will rise again and bring the dawn.
Yes, Mandela’s day is done.
Yet we, his inheritors,
will open the gates wider for reconciliation.
And we will respond generously
to the cries of Blacks and Whites,
Asians, Hispanics,
the poor who live piteously on the floor of our planet.
He has offered us understanding.
We will not withhold forgiveness
even from those who do not ask.
Nelson Mandela’s day is done.
We confess it in tearful voices.
Yet we lift our own to say thank you.
Thank you, our Gideon.
Thank you, our David,
our great, courageous man.
We will not forget you.
We will not dishonour you.
We will remember and be glad
that you lived among us,
that you taught us
and that you loved us
all.
-snip-
This transcription is from the copy of this video that was published online with English subtitles https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oTtufDpX1SA&list=PLmpmr41LhUA-ploCCn_OO0JzK49hOoejF&index=5
The background music for this spoken word video is the Gospel song "Oh Happy Day" which was composed by Edwin Hawkins.
Read my comment below about the use of the word "Bantu" in this spoken word composition.
****
Thank you Dr. Maya Angelou for this eloquently written and spoken tribute to Nelson Mandela. My thanks to Madiba Nelson Mandela for his life's legacy. Thanks to the publisher of this video on YouTube.
Thank you for visiting pancocojams.
Visitor comments are welcome.
RIP Mandiba Nelson Mandela!
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