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Let's have a Maya Angelou Datalounge poem in honor of the life of Nelson Mandela

I'll begin:

Rise, Madiba! The goddess beckons!

by Anonymousreply 5306/08/2014

Oh r2 honey. Mandela deserves every sort of poetic elegy, rap song, symphony, coffee table book, documetary, you name it - who else has had a life so extraordinary? And chances are - Dr. Maya will come up with some of her patented silly references to ostrich eggs, dinosaur dung, etc but it will be touching as well. Everything will be sad when he leaves - even well meant, batty poetry.

by Anonymousreply 206/24/2013

How high you flew, on clippéd wings. How sweet you sang, our king of kings.

by Anonymousreply 306/24/2013

Oh, R1, if only I had a fraction of your talent...sigh.

by Anonymousreply 406/24/2013

OP is a racixt

by Anonymousreply 506/24/2013

I rise!

by Anonymousreply 706/25/2013

I rise and eat garlic, you see? Never, never HIV in me!

by Anonymousreply 806/25/2013

There is

no occasion

so serious, so severe,

so devout with pride

(Madiba. A nation saved

by the gentleness

of your touch.)

that amid such passing

I could stop myself

from my own glory.

BRIGHT MAN -

Your proud lioness

Maya

Outlives you!

Lucky me!

(And we know why

the caged bird

shits

on paper.)

by Anonymousreply 906/25/2013

When he falls, we all rise to shoulder the burden he has long shouldered for us. Shoulders and flanks march not boulders of death and tanks. Hallelujah!

by Anonymousreply 1006/26/2013

This dark this leg, this mud and tearing. Forward to the past, this freedom won again. Tearing. No home but here, history spits. Tearing. Again.

by Anonymousreply 1206/27/2013

Great lion.

Determined with a life full of spirit, and yet shackled. Too long. Too long.

And I. An American woman who has appeared on Oprah, Goddess yet she is so simple.

I question. I question. Did I have a caged bird?

What kind of bird was it? Who are you?

by Anonymousreply 1306/27/2013

Oh! Great Lion

You know as I do

The bright lights of being an

Oprah alumnus

Interviewed for wisdom

Like me, so wise

by Anonymousreply 1406/27/2013

You leap on the back of the wind!

by Anonymousreply 1506/27/2013

The chains of apartheid.

The powers of the world lied.

They died. Died!

You, Madiba, de-fied!

Sanctions. Elections. Redemptions!

From the cells of Robben to the crowds sobbin'.

You were released. We were all pleased without being appeased. Praise be!

Cape of Good Hope. You are our pope!

A black pope. Not Desmund Tutu. He is cuckoo! He acts white, doesn't understand the black plight.

Reconciliation for the nation while we cease our own creation.

The white settle for the mettle. Gold and diamonds. Those are their bonds. Our were chains and pains!

Freedom is now ours. No more prison bars.

by Anonymousreply 1606/27/2013

Bump for Madiba

by Anonymousreply 1712/05/2013

I enjoy the exposure of the racists trolls celebrating the death of Nelson Mandela.

This gives us a good indication of where the national 22 percent of Gay Republican/Mitt Romney voters are present.

by Anonymousreply 1812/05/2013

Is Miss Dionne Warwick planning to sing at Nelson's funeral?

Do you think she's already plotting her flight to south Africa?

Please Dionne, don't let us down! I hope you and Winnie spark up a bone together.

by Anonymousreply 1912/05/2013

Dionne Warwick Funeral Services, Inc. has been hired for the memorial service. Dionne, herself, will be the master of ceremonies, just as she was for Whitney Houston's memorial service.

by Anonymousreply 2112/05/2013

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.

applies to everybody, everywhere. Love this poem

by Anonymousreply 2212/05/2013

This thread is not full if racists, R18, just people mocking Maya Angelou's grandiose, overblown and distinctive style.

by Anonymousreply 2312/06/2013

Rise!

by Anonymousreply 2412/07/2013

True R23. Not all of us black folk are crazy about Maya's pompous prose. I can't stand "Phenomenal Woman".

by Anonymousreply 2512/07/2013

I hate the racism on the DL, but I love those lampooning Dr Angelou's Poetry!

by Anonymousreply 2612/07/2013

What is this deal with always referring to him as "Madiba"? Isn't that an aristocratic honorific? It's like constantly referring to Kate Middleton, even when she's not present and you're not employed by the Palace, as "Her Royal Highness."

by Anonymousreply 2712/07/2013

From capitals the world over and townships suffering their hardships. They came!

Obama, Carter, Clinton, Bush,

Each made the journey to the stadium to sit on his tush!

Nelson and Barack, joined by history,

But Hillary, pantsuited in glory, also there to tell her story.

Praise!

by Anonymousreply 2812/10/2013

Oh Holy men among men: We packed some fried chicken and waffles for your trip to the after life. BE SWEET!

by Anonymousreply 2912/10/2013

Madiba! Gadiba! Badiba!

That's all folks!

by Anonymousreply 3012/10/2013

Ditto to R23. LMAO at some of the posts.

by Anonymousreply 3112/10/2013

Yeah R22, but what about that goiter on your neck?

by Anonymousreply 3212/12/2013

Who put the bop in the bop-shu-bop-shu-bop?

by Anonymousreply 3312/12/2013

A flutter of hands for those who can't hear.

That whackdoodle left the deaf signing, "Oh, dear."

He said he's a schizo, and spewed a detraction.

But we know it's all just Affirmative Blacktion.

by Anonymousreply 3412/12/2013

[quote]This thread is not full if racists, [R18], just people mocking Maya Angelou's grandiose, overblown and distinctive style.

I speak your NAME, r23!

by Anonymousreply 3512/12/2013

No No No Yes

by Anonymousreply 3612/12/2013

Black man!! Black Man, where have you gone to?

Black Man!! Black Man... where did you go?

by Anonymousreply 3712/12/2013

Never realized what a hack she is. I bet she writes this while sitting on the john.

by Anonymousreply 3812/12/2013

R30 nearly made me piss my pants laughing!!!

W&W

by Anonymousreply 3912/13/2013

I didn't realize until now that the Maya's inaugural poem actually does talk about dinosaur shit. Nice!

by Anonymousreply 4012/13/2013

Rise!

by Anonymousreply 4112/13/2013

God, Maya is just so precious and overrated. Yet she's probably the only one that most Americans know by name. I wonder what real poets think of this hack. To me she's the Thomas Kincaid of the poetry world.

by Anonymousreply 4212/13/2013

Maya reads Craigs List ad.

by Anonymousreply 4312/13/2013

I Raze, I Raze.

by Anonymousreply 4412/13/2013

Man, did it rain. I climbded down out of the plane's wheel well and hit the mud they call a runway, and hitched over to the stadium. Thank Jebus I was wearing my Queen of Sheba sweatshirt with the sparkles and they thought I was Gold Coast royalty, so I got into the covered stands. That place was rocking. Billy C was speeding and passed me a doob. My stash had blew out of my purse somewhere over the Azores, so I owe him one. Barry and Michelle tried to act dignified but once his speech was over he relaxed and started selfying. I'm in one of them if you look hard. Best part was when I started making gestures at some loon up there and he copied me like Harpo and Lucy in the mirror. I figured the show needed a boost. Nelson didn't look too bad but he was quieter than usual. Pretends to be sleeping but I know that smile of his. Winnie the Poo must have been off murdering gay teens somewhere because I didn't see her fat ass no where. No, I did not sing. No one offered me a lousy rand, and I do NOT give it up for free.

Anyshit, I'm heading to the big house party they're having Sunday. I'm stowing in Nelson's little travel shack (It's tight, but it's dry.) because I don't hitchhike in the bush. Snakes. Nelson still is real quiet, but at least I don't notice that famous bad breath of his being an issue no more. Maybe they got his dentures fixed.

I'm happy to say that my psychic gifts tell me Nelson will be around for his 100th birthday and beyond. But this party is almost as good. I figure some soccer team won a match, so I guess that's why they're doing all this. LIke I give a fuck. I just needed a break from the collection calls. For some reason my last royalty check was for $3.57, and that's not enough paper to wipe my ass with.

Oh. Car's moving. Guess we're heading for the compound!

by Anonymousreply 4512/13/2013

THE BIG-O:

Mogambo! Toejambo! Black Sambo!

The proud buttocks

Cleft my milk

and honey naked

a breast

Of Jasmine and

Virgin blood

Myrrh await

Pussy willows, dirty pillows

a Silent noise- rejoice, seed

Me breed me

Mandingo! Bojangle! Archangel!

by Anonymousreply 4612/13/2013

I'm SO glad that Miss Warwick is still among us.

by Anonymousreply 4712/13/2013

Awww shucks, R39. Thank you.

by Anonymousreply 4812/13/2013

You're sweet, R47. Considering that I have been informed I am a tiresome, unfunny, disgusting, thread-hijacking shithead here at this Daddy Lounge thing, it's nice to know that my responding to a fucking invocation isn't inevitably gonna get me a beating.

But if you love me you will buy a motherfucking record. The Dollar Store has got some good ones - or Am-A-Zone has got some. In fact, you need to buy my "Dionne Goes Gospel" album, if you love me. Since I'm paying on a storage locker holding about 150,000 of those shitting thangs.

Or mail me a little sniffle powder. I'm out, and this little oak cabana with Nelson is starting to give me the willies. Thank God his eyes are like night lights behind his lids. Maybe a little spooky. Just send the shit to Queen Dee of the Gold Coast, in care of "Beloved Father of His Country, South Africa."

Do it now, baby. NOW!

I close with the Zulu translation of the title of Maya Angelou's most beautiful poem about Mandingo Madiba: "Umkhumbi wami ugcwele ngenyoka zemanzini." Meaning, of course, "My hovercraft is full of eels."

God, I hate that smug, trog-mouthed old whore.

by Anonymousreply 4912/13/2013

On Sunday, Madiba is buried with stately rites,

The sting of apartheid no longer bites.

Reconciliation is the hope of that nation.

Deeper in the ground he is now that he dies.

The deeper truth is once buried he will rise!

by Anonymousreply 5012/14/2013

The funeral commences,

with solemnity and tears,

But Madiba's life makes us smile like Senor Wences.

We laugh, we cry as noon nears.

Soon to be buried, but forever above.

He will soar like the white-winged dove.

Ooo, ooo, ooo.

by Anonymousreply 5112/15/2013

It's starting to smell musty in here, and it's awful fucking dark. Nelson needs a bath or something, and he's still sleeping. I can't hear music anymore. I'm wondering if I have got me into some kind of fix, as opposed to what I really need - getting some kind of fix into ME.

Phew. Shit.

by Anonymousreply 5212/15/2013

Iambic pentameter.

The sweet dove and my thoughts are cloudy with Racism besetting my girth and a heavy weight presses down on me, yes it's my fat, but also my humungous soul, certified by the Clintons who took me from backwoods fake to the White House and sold me--like a slave A slave of love, to Oprah. Who got me speaking gigs which paid a shitload of money for white guilt. Affirmative, affirmative Reaction. Payroll and Swiss accounts beyond the reach of whitey,

by Anonymousreply 5306/08/2014
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