Phenomenal Woman

                 Phenomenal Woman

“Still I Rise”:

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread 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 has risen phoenix-like from the ashes to become a star of twinkling light. Her courage and fortitude shines bright in the skies today, as she spreads her glow over the microcosm of the human living world. An exponent of poetry and seven explicitly bold autobiographies, she straddled the creative planes of writer, poet, performer, dancer, singer, teacher and a social activist with aplomb. Her autobiographies are rare pieces of literature which have rendered memories into lyrical poetry and works of art. She wrote inside out about her personal experiences as a poor, black female in racist America. The bildungsroman memoirs are delineations of self-exposure of a black girl child to a black woman, rife with revelatory stories of rape, prostitution, broken marriages, alienation, segregation, loneliness and exploitation. Personalized accounts of horror and shame etched in ink and paper saw the light of day and became a novel  style of penning memoirs. Her experiences of depression, disappointment and discouragement are all encompassing, but her message of courage rings loud and clear- “Still I Rise”:

‘I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings’ is the most highly acclaimed of Angelou's autobiographies. Its first person narrative is the collective ‘we’ of the black experience and includes her library of literary canon and the oral tradition of African storytelling. Its triumph lies in its core of ‘Mother Wit’ the collective wisdom of the African-American community as expressed in folklore and humor and is used to demonstrate that in spite of severe racism and oppression, ‘they thrive and do so with some passion, some compassion, some humour, and some style.’ She has stood true to her oft quoted quote “What you're supposed to do when you don't like a thing is change it. If you can't change it, change the way you think about it. Don't complain.” Elements of blues are all pervasive through the works, inherent in recounts of personal struggles, ironic understatements, metaphors, rhythms and imagery.

Her poetic journey landed her the honour of being the first woman-poet to recite her most well-known poem ‘On the Pulse of Morning’ at President Bill Clinton’s inauguration. Her theatrical rendition rested on her years of being a singer, actor and the oral traditions of African American heritage. Her second hailed poetry performance was at the fiftieth anniversary of The United Nations. On a personal note, I have always been inspired by her poems – ‘Phenomenal Woman’ which has given strength to millions of women to be themselves and thrive in their strength and natural endowments.

 Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.

I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size   

But when I start to tell them,

They think I’m telling lies.

I say,

It’s in the reach of my arms,

The span of my hips,   

The stride of my step,   

The curl of my lips.   

I’m a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,   

That’s me.

I walk into a room

Just as cool as you please,   

And to a man,

The fellows stand or

Fall down on their knees.   

Then they swarm around me,

A hive of honey bees.   

I say,

It’s the fire in my eyes,   

And the flash of my teeth,   

The swing in my waist,   

And the joy in my feet.   

I’m a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered   

What they see in me.

They try so much

But they can’t touch

My inner mystery.

When I try to show them,   

They say they still can’t see.   

I say,

It’s in the arch of my back,   

The sun of my smile,

The ride of my breasts,

The grace of my style.

I’m a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That’s me.

Now you understand

Just why my head’s not bowed.   

I don’t shout or jump about

Or have to talk real loud.   

When you see me passing,

It ought to make you proud.

I say,

It’s in the click of my heels,   

The bend of my hair,   

the palm of my hand,   

The need for my care.   

’Cause I’m a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That’s me.

 Doubts, fear, mistrust, criticism  entraps our mind , keeps us small.  But then, there are those like Angelou who ride beyond the chaos and dark waters to soar like birds in the sky. As a caged bird she sang out aloud and finally flew high like a eagle in the sky.  I quote from her poem –‘ When Great Trees Fall’

And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly.  Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed.  They existed.
We can be.  Be and be
better.  For they existed.

We at Navhind Times hail the spirit of Maya Angelou!  God bless us All!