Long Angelou Poems
Long Angelou Poems. Below are the most popular long Angelou by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Angelou poems by poem length and keyword.
As a black girl my hair curls,
my lips a noticeable attribute to my face.
They say the blacker the berry the sweeter the juice,
well let me tell you this melanin is a wonderful taste.
I am laughed at and mocked, looked down upon with distraught.
"There all the same, they look the same."
"Hey there goes the one with the ghetto name."
Well let me tell you a little about this melanin, my "ghetto slang" and curvaceous figure.
I am more than what society has to say and I am more than the braids and curls that caress my face.
Despite the oppression and despite the judgement, like the late Maya Angelou still I rise.
My black skin, this melanin;
carries more than just a skin tone.
It carries a soul inside with beauty that cries to not be mocked or rejected
This beautiful black queen, knows her worth and demands to be respected.
Form:
“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
? Maya Angelou
Some guys are bold; they’ll court you with great zeal,
while timid guys might not know what to do.
Some men will treat you to a fancy meal,
bring roses or boxed chocolates to you.
And some will let their darker side show through!
Although a man can say and do things right,
he isn’t necessarily the real deal!
But there is one you’ll want to kiss all night.
With ring in hand, upon one knee he’ll kneel -
the one who knew the way to make you feel!
Oct. 21, 2016 for the A Response To . . . Contest of Silent One
Written By: D. Collins 7/7/25
I know the names of some of the greatest to ever dawn black skin.
Dr. Charles Drew, Miles Davis, Malcolm X, and James Baldwin.
Generations from now their achievements will be overlooked.
Due to coordinated efforts to remove them from history books.
There were the Buffalo Soldiers and Tuskegee Airmen.
Maya Angelou and descriptive writings of Toni Morrison.
We had Dr. Martin Luther King and Muhammad Ali.
Who gave hope to a population of people like me.
We've endured the longest deprivation mankind has faced.
You cannot remove something that refuses to be erased.
We've heard broken promises that never came about.
The Caged Bird Still Sings loudly from the top of the mount.
PART III: THE BATTLEFIELD
Kingdom of Adam, Kingdom of Satan
Among us HE exists preaching his constitution
And conspiracies
Oh What Wicked Witty conspiracies
“Blame on the Lord” HE whispers
Oh yes, simple relief of a great poet
Playing greatly on the Bun of words
I’m Buried in the duties of life and
Burdened by the holy ones,
I Rose I Rose Maya Angelou,
I was burned by the lies,
Defeated by sorrows and murdered by neglect
Exiled my identity in a vast dry Sahara
Rambling through the sands of life
Overwhelmed by the gigantic landscape;
And it comes again
The consecutive Sandstorm,
HIT
HIT
HIT
I’m abandoned, I’m lonely, and I’m weak
My thirst is consuming me
Yearning a tiny drop of forgiveness
And then the shining reflection,
The sudden revelation,
I’m infatuated by its distinct aroma and now I pursue its path
Like abrupt Goosebumps acquired from a good tragedy
I was stimulated and inspired,
Digging through the burrows of my deepest troubles
And confusion there it was an unveiled well
A volcanic eruption of yet another Identity;
My identity
I stood straight and strong..Filled my punched hole of
Miseries in my guts and this time;
I raised my flags of victory
PartIII of the main Poem "Eternal Battles"
"People will forget what you said, forget what you did,
but will never forget how you made them feel."
~ Maya Angelou
I woke with twisted thoughts, coiling in my mind
like a trellised vine, weaving through my head
Gnarled bits of thread stitched me to my bed
and both my eyes were sewn shut til I was blind
I heard the sound of my notebook pages turning
by one whose mind was gnarled and full of hate
I could not see to stop him. I was much too late
to save my poetry. They'd been set afire, burning
A grizzled hand ripped the stitches from my eyes
A man with bony knees, bulbous nose, nubby toes,
said, "I am an ugly thorn, and you a beautiful rose."
He cursed at me with a snarl, "It's you I despise!"
Tears bled from the gnarly bloke. One fell on my cheek
I asked him to please free me from the tangled thread
He released me, and then I stood before him and said,
"When a rose needs protection, it's a thorn it will seek."
He stood to full height. The scorning frown disappeared
A smile curved his lips and he flexed each fingertip.
He shook my hand as if we'd just signed a partnership
His life had meaning, for he felt esteemed and revered
I know humor can hoist my heavy heart,
those times when I've made too much ado.
A joke upgrades angst to laughter's ballyhoo.
You sometimes forget what you once knew.
Take this guy who wears his shorts on his head;
yes, he is a clown with a natural glow
forgetting what he does, the facts you forego
You don't know what you don't know.
Curious about what you remember?
It makes perfect sense in my head.
I would never ignore nonsense that's well-said.
What will you know, when you are braindead...
written October 21, 2016
inspired by two quotes
“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” Maya Angelou
"Nonsense and beauty have close connections". E. M. Forster
" My mother shed her protective love around me and without knowing why, people sensed that I had value." ~Maya Angelou
" As mothers and daughters, we are connected with one another. My mother is the bones of my spine, keeping me straight and true. She is my blood, making sure it runs rich and strong. " ~Kristin Hannah
“ I hold three magic rocks, in my hand
Rolling them over and over and over
Leaving this reality behind, far behind"
Born female, and upon my brow the magic mark ,
as my mother's mothers before me.
Red pigmented and shaped like a broken heart,
the very heart of my story.
From generations of wombs and bloodlines before,
I am chosen to take up these stones.
And being apart of this family,
I am yet destined to be alone.
The Amber, with whiskey color glowing within…
pumpkin tinged and power singed.
Giving its wielder healing power and
protection through the midnight hour.
The Sapphire stone, deepest indigo,
as the depths of the ocean's foaming folds.
Granting wisdom within it's warming light
and discernment of truth, of wrong and right.
And the third stone is a Ruby of red,
whose clarity muddles the mind and clouds the head.
Releasing passions once held in check,
while you see clearly, their pulsing neck.
Combined the three, passed down to me,
from maternal bloodline flows.
So now with these words and the heat of my hands,
I part the veil to long ago...
Though darkly, I see, far back through time,
this several great-great grandmother of mine.
And watch as she, undeservedly,
is made to lie in an early grave …
No knight in armour in this tale,
Herself alone she must save.
These stones that I now hold, she finds,
as in darkness they begin to shine.
All air is gone, her breathing stops
and the heart inside can beat no more.
Until the magic finds a home in a wronged woman's maternal core.
Then hearing
a weak pulse,
somehow
MISPLACED...
upon her brow I see
the red- pigmented mark,
the broken heart
Upon her brow,
BEGIN TO B E A T....
And now we know this history,
the story that began my own.
I await the rest of my family tale
from inside the stones, I'm shown.
When I know my true life's purpose,
when I am connected with all of them…
then my hearts blood will stop beating...
...but my magic heart beat will begin.
"Try to be a rainbow in someone's cloud"
- Maya Angelou -
Bless us now
with thy purifying tears
Speak the truth clearly
before the judgment is written
that is what’s expected from above
can you handle it ... your choice
Few hands as his
with virtue and warmth
through arcs of truth or fiction
Fed through the mother's umbilical cord
recurrent in muddy dark soil
All the battles that have been fought
many ups and downs
We are human
in life’s short comedy
As we sojourn on this earthly path
Let us a moment spare to
see God 's miracle everywhere
Ups and downs stumbles and falls
cannot deter us or crumble us all
When we stand together we all stand tall
Strong winds may buffet us as we go
but the sun keeps our cheeks constantly aglow
The spirit within us a driving force
as we stumble along a rugged course
seeing meeting and hearing things
that pull at our hearts' tender strings
As we climb up the spiritual ladder
a challenging task and daunting too
Everything's against our climb
some wish you failure in their minds
But if you hang on with all you've got
By jove you'll get there you'll reach top.
Inspired by Maya Angelou.
“We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.” — Maya Angelou
Dark thoughts offer me great despair,
sparking rhymes who say I don’t care,
shadows drift across moonlit lanes,
troubling fear, who echoes my pains.
Dismal dangers breath twilight’s tears,
aching, trembling ‘til the smoke clears,
tossing, turning, all that remains,
troubling fear, who echoes my pains.
Nightmares sing into the distance,
haunting souls with such persistence,
lingering doubt, whines and complains,
troubling fear, who echoes my pains.
When I see Him, in His glory,
recall that precious love story,
my heart trembles at the bloodstains,
troubling fear, who echoes my pains.
Fear and trembling threaten my hope,
feeling like I simply can’t cope,
but He comforts, with His refrains,
troubling fear, who echoes my pains
Wisely, He sent us His Spirit,
past or future, we’ll not fear it.
He saves us despite binding chains,
troubling fear, who echoes my pains