My favorite poem

I have many favorite poems.  My favorite poet is Maya Angelou.  I love Phenomenal Woman and Still I Rise.  There's no way I could take her work and make it into something of my own.  While imitation is the best form of flattery, I don't know if she would appreciate me taking her work and twisting it around into something of mine.  Instead, I'll post those two poems here.

Phenomenal Woman

BY MAYA ANGELOU

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.

Still I Rise

BY 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.