Favourite Poems and Prose.

*gets me coat*

STILL I RISE

You may write me down in history
With your bitter,twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still likedust,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 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 some suprise
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 thats 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 wonderously 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

Loved that Yvonne

Half a league half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred:
‘Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns’ he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

‘Forward, the Light Brigade!’
Was there a man dismay’d ?
Not tho’ the soldier knew
Some one had blunder’d:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do & die,
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley’d & thunder’d;
Storm’d at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.

Flash’d all their sabres bare,
Flash’d as they turn’d in air
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army while
All the world wonder’d:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro’ the line they broke;
Cossack & Russian
Reel’d from the sabre-stroke,
Shatter’d & sunder’d.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley’d and thunder’d;
Storm’d at with shot and shell,
While horse & hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro’ the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.

When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wonder’d.
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!

Loved this for over 30 years

see Yvonne, underneath this uncouth exterior I have a little bit of culture trying to surface :D

Author: Stephen Kreska

A Single rose of love
A Single rose of devotion
A Single wish upon my lips
A Single thought of you
A Single desire to be granted
A Single moment of careless bliss
A Single love never to be broken
A Single rose for one last kiss.