MAYA ANGELOU
"Men"

When I was young, I used to
Watch behind the curtains
As men walked up and down the street. Wino men, old men.
Young men sharp as mustard.
See them. Men are always
Going somewhere.
They knew I was there. Fifteen
Years old and starving for them.
Under my window, they would pauses,
Their shoulders high like the
Breasts of a young girl,
Jacket tails slapping over
Those behinds,
Men.

One day they hold you in the
Palms of their hands, gentle, as if you
Were the last raw egg in the world. Then
They tighten up. Just a little. The
First squeeze is nice. A quick hug.
Soft into your defenselessness. A little
More. The hurt begins. Wrench out a
Smile that slides around the fear. When the
Air disappears,
Your mind pops, exploding fiercely, briefly,
Like the head of a kitchen match. Shattered.
It is your juice
That runs down their legs. Staining their shoes.
When the earth rights itself again,
And taste tries to return to the tongue,
Your body has slammed shut. Forever.
No keys exist.

Then the window draws full upon
Your mind. There, just beyond
The sway of curtains, men walk.
Knowing something.
Going someplace.
But this time, I will simply
Stand and watch.

Maybe.

Somehow I deleted my reply!

Here is a quick Haiku for ya’ll:

I’LL CUT YOU UP GOOD,
EAT YOUR FLESH; YOU KNEW I WOULD
SHIT YOU OUT, APPLE!


[b][red][i]Libertas an Mortis!![/b][/red][/i]

Just my opinion, but the chick has issues.

most blacks have issues
most chicks have issues
most poets have issues


emagine a black chick that's a poet

The Simpsons slammed Maya Angelou hard once, when The Simpsons went to a book fair

Kent:    Alright, does anyone have a question for our panel that's not about how much money they make?
       
[Audience's hands go down]

Lenny:   [at microphone] Uh yeah, I'm a techno-thriller junkie, and I'd like to know, is the B-2 bomber more detectible when it rains?

Kent:    Oh, what do you think, Tom Clancy?

Clancy:  Well, the B-2--

Lenny:   No, no, no, I was asking Maya Angelou!

Angelou: The ebony fighter awakens, dabbled with the dewy beads of morn.

Moe:     Maya Angelou is black?

Angelou: It is a mach-5 child, forever bound to suckle from the shriveled breast of congress.

Lenny:   Oh, Maya, you're a national treasure!