masqthephlsphr: (gc2)
Maya Angelou


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.

Stuff

Dec. 6th, 2013 06:39 pm
masqthephlsphr: (Default)
In the past couple weeks, I have been reading science fiction short stories. In typical fashion, I have this need to be systematic and thorough, so I am choosing my stories in a chronological fashion. Obviously, I am not reading all of them, just a smattering, but here is the reading list so far:


Poe, Edgar Allen. "The Unparalleled Adventure of One Hans Pfaall", 1835
Hawthorne, Nathaniel. “Rappaccini’s Daughter”, 1844
Wells, H.G. “The Star”, 1897
Hamilton, Edmond. “The Man Who Evolved”, 1931
Robert Heinlein. "--All You Zombies--" 1959

I actually started with the Heinlein story, which was just bizarre and rubbed me wrong. That's when I decided I could use the benefit of historical context with the chronological approach.

The first two on the list have the characteristic overwriting typical of a lot 19th century romanticism (why use two words when twenty will do?)

The H.G. Wells story was gorgeously written, despite being a doomsday tale.

I am now into the 1930's pulp fiction, which is about as melodramatic as you'd expect.

A few quotable quotes:

It was not love, although her rich beauty was a madness to him; nor horror, even while he fancied her spirit to be imbued with the same baneful essence that seemed to pervade her physical frame; but a wild offspring of both love and horror that had each parent in it, and burned like one and shivered like the other. - Nathaniel Hawthorne

Few people without a training in science can realise the huge isolation of the solar system. The sun with its specks of planets, its dust of planetoids, and its impalpable comets, swims in a vacant immensity that almost defeats the imagination. - H G Wells




Here's my Friday poem, from back in my college days:


A woman's hands

Her hands were smooth, gentle, and able
One rested on her thigh
the other moved across the table

It made me feel secure, seeing her hands
They had a soft-spoken grace unlike a man’s

I could sit and wonder at all they’d done
When they were strong
When they were creative
When they were playful
When they were still

I could sit and wonder what it would be like
to hold one of those hands in mine.

June 2017

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