By Maya Angelou
From her earliest choice of poetry (Just provide Me a funky Drink of Water 'fore I Diiie, 1971) to her most recent (On the heartbeat of Morning, brought on the inauguration of President Clinton on January 20, 1993), Angelou's paintings by no means fails to grip the imagination.
during this anthology, she reviews on love, touring, and getting older.
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They requested me, is that this time worse than another.
I stated, for whom?
Wanted to teach them anything. whereas I wrote at the
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Maybe I couldn’t write quick sufficient. might be it used to be too soon.
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These impersonae, even though we name them
won’t invade us as on motion picture screens
they are so outdated, so new, we aren't to them
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of our tilted gazing
but they don’t glance again and we can't damage them
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Extra info for The Complete Collected Poems of Maya Angelou
33 Ill This life, a small garden, yet more spacious Than lasting: prehistory under my feet And the advance of air over all that moves Through it. "The present, which is with us Eternity" (CIaudel). "The small round floor That makes us passionate" (Alighieri). The weakness of loved things is in love, Praiseworthy, as long as the talk continues. IV And now I see you, finally, and can speak: A sudden spring of words in the desert Of my mouth. That is only an image of you In my speech, my speech in your being.
CI-GiT His time was bounded by two faultless errors, The taking of the fatal sword And the final combat, the two great brothers Resolved in their one blood. There are trees, and an open meadow in summer, Silent, hypnotized into A simulacrum of presence, with a slight Wateriness at the edges, And the requisite clash of battle, as noiseless As harmless, because the curse Is what kills and it has killed already In unknowable foretime. And yet the other, his clear double, struggled In Balin for life.
The tall grain of those hours! 44 Still Life There are apples in the cupboard and a bowl of almonds, Glass dishes (one with a chipped edge), cups, wine bottles, Plates, linen folded in squares. The apples and almonds sleep in their closed, full shapes. The dishes and linens have forgotten being set out or unfolded. The apples have filled the cupboard with apple-smell, Dusky and sweet when I open the door. I am not keeping track of the days you have been gone. They are all one day. 45 Quiet night.