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A Mystic Answer

A bird doesn't sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song.

~Maya Angelou

A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.
A poet is an ordinary person who encounters mystic answer.

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They Went Home (Terzanelle) (In Answer To Maya Angelou)

They visited her when the wife was not around,
they found her house antiseptic clean,
tracked her down where ever she was to be found,

while she was full of passion like a nymphomaniac Herculean
all kinds of men knew her lips,
they found her house antiseptic clean,

knew the shape of her legs and hips
but some was treated better still,
all kinds of men knew her lips,

and they visited one night or more to get a thrill
before they went home to the sweet wife,
but some was treated better still,

before they went to a loving family and a clear-cut life
they experienced her really intimately
before they went home to the sweet wife

and everyone that were visiting her left separately.
They visited her when the wife was not around,
they experienced her really intimately
tracked her down where ever she was to be found.

[Reference: They went home by Maya Angelou.]

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Maya Angelou: A Phenomenal Woman?

Me thinks much ink
has been spilt
over the poem;
‘Phenomenal Woman’
by Maya Angelou.

Me thinks it is time
I stuck my oar in
had my say;
hopefully in a far
less controversial way.

So I ask all these supposedly
expert men who
read read read her poem;
then see red red red
who is Maya Angelou?

A Phenomenal Woman?

And to a man these reds do not know?

Do they also not know
that it is personal choice;
which poems poets writers we like?
All have differing tastes
all are entitled to their opinion!

Have they never heard
Maya Angelou recite one of her poems?
It brings a smile to my lips my eyes.
I receive Maya’s performance with pride?
It seems no one nobody does it better?

So again I ask do you know?
Who is Maya Angelou?
A Phenomenal Woman?

Wow what odds would you give
on Maya Angelou, a young
African-American girl
ever achieving?
Phenomenal success?

Maya Angelou had her baby
at age sixteen?
She left home at age sixteen
as a single mother?
This is a very hard road in which seeds
of success could never be sown?

At age three and a half
Maya’s parents divorced.
Her dad sent her to Stamps
Arkansas, to live with
her paternal grandmother.
Four years later, her dad
sent her to San Francisco,
to live with her mother.

Marguerite Annie Johnson
experienced legally enforced
racial discrimination.
As a way of life as a young girl
in the American South.
What odds now on ever achieving
phenomenal success?

What happened to Maya
at age seven eight;
God forbid I will not mention.
When Maya heard
her mother’s boyfriend;
had been killed by an uncle.
Maya felt “her words
had killed the man” and Maya;
fell into a world silent.
Maya “did not speak for five years”
until age thirteen;
reunited with her mother.

Did trauma cause mute Maya
“to go mute for five years? ”
Maya recalled, “I thought if I spoke,
my mouth would just issue out
something that would kill people,
randomly, so it was better not to talk.”

I shall not recite in detail
the story of Maya Angelou’s life.
Best you read it for yourself!

Therefore a brief synopsis;
age sixteen supporting herself her son
working as a waitress cook;
already given up talents for music,
dance, performance and poetry.

Then rebirth as phoenix a phenomenal life!
Time you look her Maya read all about it!
It reads like a suspense novel visual screenplay!
This is phenomenal women exceptional lady!
I shall never know Malcolm X; Dr. Martin Luther King!

So who is this phenomenal African-American women?
“Heralded as a great voice of contemporary literature”!
Maya actress, author, civil rights activist, director, educator,
magazine editor, playwright, poet, producer, singer, song writer...
“three Grammy Awards for her spoken word albums”

Maya Angelou has been awarded over forty honorary degrees!

Other honors include the Women in Film Crystal Award (1992)
Humanitarian Contribution Award (1997)
Inducted into the National Women's Hall of Fame in (1998)
Among Writer's Digest's “Top 100 Best Writers of the 20th Century” (1999)
Presidential Medal of Arts (2000) , John Hope Franklin Award (2006) , Mother Teresa Award (2006) and the Lincoln Medal (2008) .
International Civil Rights Walk of Fame in (2008)
are but a few of Maya’s honours Maya’s many accolades.

Therefore in genuine sincere respect
I bow the head bend the knee.
And to these critic men these reds
I have but one thing to decree.
What God has seen fit to raise up
let no man attempt to tear down in stupidity.


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To Maya Angelou

I am a man, whose fire you lit
Honesty, true life be told
The classic ‘Phenomenal Woman’
To “I Know why the caged bird sing
A fire was lit, my pen sings!

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Sing Our Own Song

The great flood of tears that we've cried
For our brothers and sisters who've died
Over four hundred years
Has washed away our fears
And strengthened our pride
Now we turn back the tide
We will no longer hear your command
We will sieze the control from your hand
We will fan the flame
Of our anger and pain
And you'll feel the shame
For what you do in gods name
(chorus)
We will fight for the right to be free
We will build our own society
And we will sing, we will sing
We will sing our own song
When the ancient drum rythms ring
The voice of our forefathers sings
Forward africa run
Our day of freedom has come
For me and for you
Amandla awethu
(chorus)
We will fight for the right to be free
We will build our own society
And we will sing, we will sing
We will sing our own song

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I sing a new song

I sing a new song,
I hate to be wrong
I often do fall
but I rise and
sometimes crawl
I sing a new song
I climb a high wall
even when I fall
I sing a new song
about rising after
each and every fall
I sing a new song

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Christina Georgina Rossetti

Sing Me A Song

Sing me a song -
What shall I sing? -
Three merry sisters
Dancing in a ring,
Light and fleet upon their feet
As birds upon the wing.
Tell me a tale -
What shall I tell?
Two mournful sisters,
And a tolling knell,
Tolling ding and tolling dong,
Ding dong bell.

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Still I Rise' Like Maya Angelou Do You?

Indomitable will of humanity
to rise from oppression
slavery all odds uncounted

the will of those who cannot
bend the knee to ultimately
triumph over injustice adversity

Maya Angelou claims birthright
to rise through history rise rise
rise to aspired to promised land.

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Maya Angelou

Maya Angelou
I like you.
You have a Brave
and startling Truth.
I have the couraged to face
face the loneliness.
Look, I am bold
and straight like you.

Maya Angelou
Im calling you
Im calling through your poem
the earth is listening
the sky is crippling.

Look, Look
Im floating Maya Angelou
I like you
Where are you.

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I Sing A Sad Song

I sing a sad song for the cold, lonely
Moments no one will admit to aloud.

I sing a sad song for all of the broken
Promises,
Wrought by circumstances beyond
Anyone's control.

I sing a sad song for the faces pressing
Against the window panes in longing.

I sing a sad song for wild anticipation
Of days that never come.

I sing a sad song for the telephone
That never rings enough.

I sing a sad song for dreams woven of
Hopeless illusions.

I sing a sad song for all of those who
Waste time, singing sad songs!

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You Who Sing Your Death Song

You who sing your death song
Are you recruiting others to sing along
Do you think you are the only one
Who has ever wanted to sing that song

You who sing your death song
Are you trying to perpetuate our pain
Do you know what you are doing or are you
Unwittingly recruiting others to take part in your evil game

You who sing your death song
What do you accomplish by exponentially increasing our pain
While you sing your death song how do you wallow in your distain
As you contemplate revenge as the means to the end of your evil game

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Sing Me A Song

Sing me a song,
A song you and I know,
A song that will put me to sleep,
This song that I always listen to makes me cry,
Missing you with every inch on my heart,
Knowing that you will not return,
Sing me a song,
A song that will help me forget about you,
A song that will heal my heart,
A song of forgiveness,
Just sing a song,
A song that can not be forgotten,
A song so memorable,
Only a memory,
Sing me song,
A song that we will love,
A song we can not live with out,
Just sing me a song,
A song that only you and I know.

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Sing me a song, my love

Sing me a song of hope, my love
That I may not, despair

Sing me a song of strength, my love
That I may not give up, vigor fair

Sing me a song of beauty, my love
That I may raise my heart, in wonder

Sing me a song of truth, my love
That I may from it, strength discover

Sing me a song of pain, my love
That drapes my cross, with tranquility

Sing me a song of faith, my love
That I may go on, with equanimity

Sing me a song from your heart, my love
So mine beats in harmony

O sing me a song of love, my love
That I may love with soulful clarity

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Bring Me a Poem, Sing Me a Song

Sing me a song, read me a poem
Bring a poem, sing me a song
Sing me a "Je t'aime"
And don't stop reading the long
And beautiful poem that I composed for you
Oh! The moon is bright and the sky is blue
Keep on reading, keep on singing
Bring me the flowers of summer and spring
Keep on singing, keep on reading.

Canta me una bella canción.
Teach me a wonderful lesson.
Love is in the air, the poets are happy,
And the women at the beach are really pretty.
Bring me a poem, sing me a song;
This time, you cannot go wrong.
Sing me a song; read me a long poem,
So I can enjoy this fantastic season,
For the right and appropriate reason,
Because you just told me "Que tu m'aimes,
That you love me, Que tu me amas".
Tell me more; read me more, at last!
Sing me more, bring me more flowers,
More poems, more songs and more jitters.

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Sing a New Song

O sing a new song, to our God above,
Avoid profane ones, 'tis for holy choir:
Let Israel sing song of holy love
To him that made them, with their hearts on fire:
Let Zion's sons life up their voice, and sing
Carols and anthems to their heavenly king.

Let not your voice alone his praise forth tell,
But move withal, and praise him in the dance;
Cymbals and harps, let them be tuned well,
'Tis he that doth the poor's estate advance:
Do this not only on the solemn days,
But on your secret beds you spirits raise.

O let the saints bear in their mouth his praise,
And a two-edged sword drawn in their hand,
Therewith for to revenge the former days,
Upon all nations, that their zeal withstand;
To bind their kings in chains of iron strong,
And manacle their nobles for their wrong.

Expect the time, for 'tis decreed in heaven,
Such honor shall unto his saints be given.

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Oh Sing Me A Song Of Nature

Oh sing me of Nature's great beauty of sunlight on flowering gum trees
And the sweet scents of Nature's own perfume that wafts in the freshening breeze
And sing of the wildborn creatures the call of the boobook owl at night
And the wild cry of the brushtail possum on the blackwood tree in the moonlight,
'Tis only of love that you sing of the bloke who yearns for the love of his life
The one who left him heavy hearted for to become another man's wife
I do grow tired of listening to love songs how come few of Nature do sing
The cold starry nights of the Winter the beautiful birdsong of Spring,
The warm balmy days of the Summer the cool breezy evenings of the Fall
Oh sing me a song of our Earth Mother since she is the greatest of all,
The beauty of Nature's great ocean the beach on a warm Summer's day
The coolness of a coastal evening and the freshness of the ocean spray,
Oh do sing me a song of Nature and brighten my day with good cheer
I've grown tired of meaningless love songs such stuff i do not wish to hear.

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When I Will Sing My Own Song

A time may come when i'll sing my own song,
And that time is coming fast.
I'll sing my own song,
Perhaps a lyrical song coloured with joy,
And maybe a dirge bursting with sorrow

A time will come then i'll sing my own song,
A song in praise of fallen heroes,
A song in huge honour of hunger
A song for incessant insecurity,
A song of unemployment.

One thing i don't know
Is whether the church will sing to this song,
And dance to its tunes, or make it
A song for offering of offerings
I don't know whether to make it secular;
If it be ungodly, perhaps it may be a hit.

When i'll sing my own song
Children will hop over hills in awe;
Mothers will sing its tune mutely,
And fathers will remain unsure whether to join

Not long, i will sing a song.
I will sing to my own song,
Then the world know i desired peace,
And love, and accord.
Then the world will know
I'm tired of wanton carnages,
And famines that breed hunger,
And being quagmired by floods,
And being mixed in hysteria
Of dirty and ethnical politics!

When i'll sing my own song,
I know it'll be long overdue.
It may never be heard anywhere
It may remain deep rooted within my heart;
Or i may never have money
To pay for its acceptance by the people!

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Birds Who Sing The Same Song

Once upon the hunter's lifetime
He entered the forest with his hound
As he waited for animal senses,
He heard the same sound

The sound came from above
It was the sound of birds
Though they were very different,
They had similar words

The birds were of two colors
They were either brown or green
They sang on top of their voices
The song of a queen

First, the hunter watched them sing
He did not understand the words
He set a trap on the tree
And caught some green birds

He brought them home
Thinking he has caught something good
After preparing the meal,
He realizes their meat is not right for food

Again, he watched them sing
He did not understand the words
He set a trap on the tree
And caught brown birds

He brought them home
Thinking the browns would not taste the same
After preparing the meal,
He realizes the meat was worse in the bowl of shame

He now understood the words
And watches them as they sing
The same song, one meaning
A song to get trapped in a ring

The birds sing the same song
A song of the soul
They sing in a competition
They compete for a common goal

They look attractive on the tree
They sing the same song

Understanding their words is the key
They sing the same song

They sound very kind
They sing the same song

They have a motive in mind
They sing the same song

They sing and fly from the leaves to the stem
But the hunter desires none of them

The hunter would now find other creatures
With the best of all features
Because the birds sing the same song

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Remember This Lack of Conscience - 'For Maya Angelou'.

When time goes past and dithers not
One sees the blame that gathers moss
To feel akin with woe as one
I'll forgive myself and you to soldier on

Remember this lack of conscience when we meet
I was violated, raped and beaten within to provide a treat

Remember this lack of conscience when I get out
To see through with vision all I espy

Remember this lack of conscience which will know no bounds
To hideously transform love profound

Remember this lack of conscience when I am free
You will lose and you know me

Remember this lack conscience less you forget
That freedom is precious and not a threat

Remember this lack of conscience when the bars are bent
I will slip out into the depths of crass to vent

Remember this lack of conscience to come
The Devil has a new spawn and drum

Remember this lack of conscience gathering
To prove nothing but give a battering

Remember this lack of conscience wild
It has no remorse just like a child

Remember this lack of conscience like the Hawk
Which draws blood, looks on and gawks

Remember this lack of conscience with the Demon within
It's a Golem to clear the the Evil and get even

Remember this lack of conscience when you renege
The death of love can be ones grave

Remember this lack of conscience and tremor not
No fruit you bear or shall ever to care

Remember this lack of conscience that prevails
The trial is over and you have failed

Remember this lack of conscience and grow
To a woman that a man can know

Remember this lack of conscience that forgave
and now with Love sends you away


For Maya Angelou - ' Remember This Lack of Conscience'.

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Bacterium

in a cloud like massive fog
where the peace does belong
where the waves smashes
against the rocks
I sense warning's
Behind this fog you hear a bird
sing us a song, in warning that we are not alone.
In this thick massive fog
from my beautiful Islands
I sense hunger for freedom
while on mine cheek bone my tears
like the rivers. And I hide my face
when the light get´s so bright
that it blinds my national right!
Because in this cloud like massive fog
I know in my thought a bacteria
that has poisoned the butterfly
so he carries on
with a bitter national song

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On Hearing A Grey Shrike Thrush

The grey shrike thrush on branch of mountain gray
At twilight of a most Unspring like day
On October eve made damp by drizzling rain
And grey bird sing his same song o'er again

And freshening wind has breath of winter sting
Seems more like Winter now than middle Spring
And wind driven rain fall from the darkening sky
And still the gray thrush pipes his notes of joy.

I wonder why he sing so merrily
On low down branch of noble gray gum tree
Could it be that he can tell from inner eye
That tomorrow's weather will be warm and dry? .

Or could he sing that in some nearby tree
His wife on nest shelter new family
And he tell his neighbours this my territory
And I'm now a dad 'oh lucky happy me'? .

And why he sing should it matter anyway
His song at close of wet October day
The weather dreary for the time of year
But grey thrush's notes sweet music to the ear.

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