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I Shall Not Be Moved
In her first book of poetry since "Why Don't You Sing?" Maya Angelou, bestselling author of the classic autobiography "I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings," writes with lyric, passionate intensity that reaches out to touch the heart and mind. This memorable collection of poems exhibits Maya Angelou's unique gift for capturing the triumph and pain of being black and every man and woman's struggle to be free. Filled with bittersweet intimacies and ferocious courage, these poems are gems--many-faceted, bright with wisdom, radiant with life.
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First published January 1, 1990
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About the author
Maya Angelou
260books14.2kfollowersMaya Angelou was an American memoirist, poet, and civil rights activist. She published seven autobiographies, three books of essays, several books of poetry, and is credited with a list of plays, movies, and television shows spanning over 50 years. She received dozens of awards and more than 50 honorary degrees. Angelou's series of seven autobiographies focus on her childhood and early adult experiences. The first, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings (1969), tells of her life up to the age of 17 and brought her international recognition and acclaim.
She became a poet and writer after a string of odd jobs during her young adulthood. These included fry cook, sex worker, nightclub performer, Porgy and Bess cast member, Southern Christian Leadership Conference coordinator, and correspondent in Egypt and Ghana during the decolonization of Africa. Angelou was also an actress, writer, director, and producer of plays, movies, and public television programs. In 1982, she was named the first Reynolds Professor of American Studies at Wake Forest University in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. Angelou was active in the Civil Rights Movement and worked with Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X. Beginning in the 1990s, she made approximately 80 appearances a year on the lecture circuit, something she continued into her eighties. In 1993, Angelou recited her poem "On the Pulse of Morning" (1993) at the first inauguration of Bill Clinton, making her the first poet to make an inaugural recitation since Robert Frost at the inauguration of John F. Kennedy in 1961.
With the publication of I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, Angelou publicly discussed aspects of her personal life. She was respected as a spokesperson for Black people and women, and her works have been considered a defense of Black culture. Her works are widely used in schools and universities worldwide, although attempts have been made to ban her books from some U.S. libraries. Angelou's most celebrated works have been labeled as autobiographical fiction, but many critics consider them to be autobiographies. She made a deliberate attempt to challenge the common structure of the autobiography by critiquing, changing, and expanding the genre. Her books center on themes that include racism, identity, family, and travel.
She became a poet and writer after a string of odd jobs during her young adulthood. These included fry cook, sex worker, nightclub performer, Porgy and Bess cast member, Southern Christian Leadership Conference coordinator, and correspondent in Egypt and Ghana during the decolonization of Africa. Angelou was also an actress, writer, director, and producer of plays, movies, and public television programs. In 1982, she was named the first Reynolds Professor of American Studies at Wake Forest University in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. Angelou was active in the Civil Rights Movement and worked with Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X. Beginning in the 1990s, she made approximately 80 appearances a year on the lecture circuit, something she continued into her eighties. In 1993, Angelou recited her poem "On the Pulse of Morning" (1993) at the first inauguration of Bill Clinton, making her the first poet to make an inaugural recitation since Robert Frost at the inauguration of John F. Kennedy in 1961.
With the publication of I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, Angelou publicly discussed aspects of her personal life. She was respected as a spokesperson for Black people and women, and her works have been considered a defense of Black culture. Her works are widely used in schools and universities worldwide, although attempts have been made to ban her books from some U.S. libraries. Angelou's most celebrated works have been labeled as autobiographical fiction, but many critics consider them to be autobiographies. She made a deliberate attempt to challenge the common structure of the autobiography by critiquing, changing, and expanding the genre. Her books center on themes that include racism, identity, family, and travel.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 140 reviews
March 18, 2023
Maya Angelou makes the personal feel universal. Though I have some favorites here (Our Grandmothers, Human Family) every single poem in this collection has touched me deeply, made me smile, or made me put the book down to take it in. Her soul energy burns through every line she writes.
And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us,
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.
And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us,
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.
March 5, 2020
It was very interesting to go straight from I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings to this and to watch the shift from her prose to her poetry. Maya was an amazing woman through and through, and there are some powerful pieces in this tiny book, but I have to admit that I vastly prefer her prose.
December 10, 2012
A Rawness of emotion with a slight edge of predictability is how I felt about "I Shall Not be Moved" by Maya Angelou. Some of the depictions where feelings are concerned, seemed to me to be the best parts of the book. From her loves to her men to her family members, all poems relating to them show in Angelou a certain vulnerability but mixed with a strength of character. The predictability comes in when you look at this black female author as she talks about the culture surrounding her life. From the men who used her, to the liberal rhetoric she spouted about America, all the way to her being poor. Here's a good example:
"She stands
before the abortion clinic,
confounded by the lack of choices.
In the Welfare line,
reduced to the pity of handouts.
Ordained in the pulpit, shielded
by the mysteries.
In the operating room,
husbanding life.
In the choir loft,
holding God in her throat.
On lonely street corners,
hawking her body.
In the classroom, loving the
children to understanding."
And yet, this particular stanza is part of the poem who seems to be the climax of the book, the one which the book was named after. It's called "Our Grandmothers", but often repeats the line "I shall not be moved." But don't mistake me. Just because there is predictability in the subject matter, does not mean this book isn't moving or accurate in describing the path of the black woman from slavery to today. It's really quite captivating in parts. I also appreciated her descriptions pertaining to her relationship with God and her not so subtle reference to agape love.
Angelou also seems to have an innate talent for baring her soul with the coarseness of her imagery. As she does here in "Known to Eve and Me":
"His lidless eye slid sideways,
and he rose into my deepest
yearning, bringing
gifts of ready rhythms, and
hourly wound around
my chest,
holding me fast in taut
security.
Then, glistening like
diamonds strewn
upon a black girl's belly,
he left me. And nothing
remains. Beneath my left
breast, two perfect identical punctures,
through which I claim
the air I breathe and
the slithering sound of my own skin
moving in the dark."
It really moved me, it was probably one of my favorites. The emotion she portrays along with her talent in displaying the strength of women were my favorite aspects of this book. I'm not a feminist by any means, but I am a woman, and am not immune to all that goes with being one. Toward the end of the book she has two poems that touched me as well. One is called, "Seven Woman's Blessed Assurance" in which she talks about the roles a women plays in a man's life as she gets older, and the other is called "In My Missouri" in which she talks about going through bad men before she found good ones. And goes on to give advice to women:
"Now I know that there are good and bad men
Some true men
Some rough men
Women, keep on searching for your own man
The best man
For you man
The man."
Overall, a solid performance in poetry and well worth the read.
"She stands
before the abortion clinic,
confounded by the lack of choices.
In the Welfare line,
reduced to the pity of handouts.
Ordained in the pulpit, shielded
by the mysteries.
In the operating room,
husbanding life.
In the choir loft,
holding God in her throat.
On lonely street corners,
hawking her body.
In the classroom, loving the
children to understanding."
And yet, this particular stanza is part of the poem who seems to be the climax of the book, the one which the book was named after. It's called "Our Grandmothers", but often repeats the line "I shall not be moved." But don't mistake me. Just because there is predictability in the subject matter, does not mean this book isn't moving or accurate in describing the path of the black woman from slavery to today. It's really quite captivating in parts. I also appreciated her descriptions pertaining to her relationship with God and her not so subtle reference to agape love.
Angelou also seems to have an innate talent for baring her soul with the coarseness of her imagery. As she does here in "Known to Eve and Me":
"His lidless eye slid sideways,
and he rose into my deepest
yearning, bringing
gifts of ready rhythms, and
hourly wound around
my chest,
holding me fast in taut
security.
Then, glistening like
diamonds strewn
upon a black girl's belly,
he left me. And nothing
remains. Beneath my left
breast, two perfect identical punctures,
through which I claim
the air I breathe and
the slithering sound of my own skin
moving in the dark."
It really moved me, it was probably one of my favorites. The emotion she portrays along with her talent in displaying the strength of women were my favorite aspects of this book. I'm not a feminist by any means, but I am a woman, and am not immune to all that goes with being one. Toward the end of the book she has two poems that touched me as well. One is called, "Seven Woman's Blessed Assurance" in which she talks about the roles a women plays in a man's life as she gets older, and the other is called "In My Missouri" in which she talks about going through bad men before she found good ones. And goes on to give advice to women:
"Now I know that there are good and bad men
Some true men
Some rough men
Women, keep on searching for your own man
The best man
For you man
The man."
Overall, a solid performance in poetry and well worth the read.
June 5, 2020
Distinctive, unashamed, and simmering with meaning.
Reading in a time of race protests and civil unrest, it's easy to spot themes that have dominated black literature for decades now. Yet so many of those calls go unheeded. There is still so much more we have to do, and reading is certainly one useful way to spend that time. Decolonise your mind.
There's something so deeply human about Angelou's writing. Her poetry invokes an array of tangible emotions that demand to be unravelled. Perhaps more so once you have watched her perform. After hearing Angelou read Still I Rise, I've taken to trying to read the poems in her voice (in my head). I don't do it justice but would still recommend giving it a go.
One thing I can guarantee is that you'll be a better person for having read her work.
Reading in a time of race protests and civil unrest, it's easy to spot themes that have dominated black literature for decades now. Yet so many of those calls go unheeded. There is still so much more we have to do, and reading is certainly one useful way to spend that time. Decolonise your mind.
There's something so deeply human about Angelou's writing. Her poetry invokes an array of tangible emotions that demand to be unravelled. Perhaps more so once you have watched her perform. After hearing Angelou read Still I Rise, I've taken to trying to read the poems in her voice (in my head). I don't do it justice but would still recommend giving it a go.
One thing I can guarantee is that you'll be a better person for having read her work.
October 26, 2018
I want to keep coming back to this book, it was so beautiful.
April 25, 2025
3.25 ⭐️’s
My second read by Angelou and I enjoyed this more than my first Angelou,
Unlike , this poetry book of Angelou’s is full of a variety of poems instead of one poem, and I have a few favorites that I feel I’ll be going back to. These include:
Human Family: It’s about how everyone’s unique in their own way, but regardless of our differences humans are more alike than unlike. This is just emphasizing how community, love, and understanding within humans is important and necessary. The poem is just reminding us that regardless of our differences, we all still have and should find communities within each other.
Man Bigot: I interpreted this as men who are unsurprisingly part of patriarchal beliefs, but that there are also women affected by the patriarchy who stand by these men and feed into these beliefs as well.
Coleridge Jackson: Explains how Black men, especially back then, would allow their white counterparts to step over them, but bring their hurt and pain home through the abuse of their wife and kids.
Son to Mother: This explores the son and mother relationship in regard to how that fits into toxic masculinity and gender roles.
These Yet to be United States: I understood this poem by connecting it back to how the United States has all of this “power� (within the country and around the world), and yet the people within it are still struggling. The U. S. is known to be “powerful�, but yet it still has a greed for power, and its citizens continue to struggle.
Savior: This poem explores the ideas of organized religion and the negative aspects within it. How humans have ruined and strayed away from their faith and spirituality through organized religion.
I had a few more favorites within this book, but these are some that definitely stood out to me and I feel that I will be continuing to return to. Although I think this work of poetry is still good, I feel like I’ll connect to Angelou more through her prose compared to her poetry.
My second read by Angelou and I enjoyed this more than my first Angelou,
Unlike , this poetry book of Angelou’s is full of a variety of poems instead of one poem, and I have a few favorites that I feel I’ll be going back to. These include:
Human Family: It’s about how everyone’s unique in their own way, but regardless of our differences humans are more alike than unlike. This is just emphasizing how community, love, and understanding within humans is important and necessary. The poem is just reminding us that regardless of our differences, we all still have and should find communities within each other.
Man Bigot: I interpreted this as men who are unsurprisingly part of patriarchal beliefs, but that there are also women affected by the patriarchy who stand by these men and feed into these beliefs as well.
Coleridge Jackson: Explains how Black men, especially back then, would allow their white counterparts to step over them, but bring their hurt and pain home through the abuse of their wife and kids.
Son to Mother: This explores the son and mother relationship in regard to how that fits into toxic masculinity and gender roles.
These Yet to be United States: I understood this poem by connecting it back to how the United States has all of this “power� (within the country and around the world), and yet the people within it are still struggling. The U. S. is known to be “powerful�, but yet it still has a greed for power, and its citizens continue to struggle.
Savior: This poem explores the ideas of organized religion and the negative aspects within it. How humans have ruined and strayed away from their faith and spirituality through organized religion.
I had a few more favorites within this book, but these are some that definitely stood out to me and I feel that I will be continuing to return to. Although I think this work of poetry is still good, I feel like I’ll connect to Angelou more through her prose compared to her poetry.
September 23, 2018
I challenge anyone to find a more well-rounded poet than Maya Angelou. In this short collection alone, she displays a great ability to shift between styles and themes.
The poems here are both emotive and playful, thoughtful and fun.
4.75 out of 5 stars
~~~~~
My personal favorites:
<� Love Letter �>
Listening winds
overhear my privacies
spoken aloud (in your
absence, but for your sake).
When you, mustachioed,
nutmeg-brown lotus,
sit beside the Oberlin shoji.
My thoughts are particular:
of your light lips and hungry
hands writing Tai Chi urgencies
into my body. I leap, float,
run
to spring cool springs into
your embrace. Then we match grace.
This girl, neither feather nor
fan, drifted and tossed.
Oh, but then I had power.
Power.
<� They Ask Why �>
A certain person wondered why
a big strong girl like me
wouldn’t keep a job
which paid a normal salary.
I took my time to lead her
and to read her every page.
Even minimal people
can’t survive on minimal wage.
A certain person wondered why
I wait all week for you.
I didn’t have the words
to describe just what you do.
I said you had the motion
of the ocean in your walk,
and when you solve my riddles
you don’t even have to talk.
Honorable Mentions:
- Ailey, Baldwin, Floyd, Killens, and Mayfield
- Our Grandmothers
- Changing
The poems here are both emotive and playful, thoughtful and fun.
4.75 out of 5 stars
~~~~~
My personal favorites:
<� Love Letter �>
Listening winds
overhear my privacies
spoken aloud (in your
absence, but for your sake).
When you, mustachioed,
nutmeg-brown lotus,
sit beside the Oberlin shoji.
My thoughts are particular:
of your light lips and hungry
hands writing Tai Chi urgencies
into my body. I leap, float,
run
to spring cool springs into
your embrace. Then we match grace.
This girl, neither feather nor
fan, drifted and tossed.
Oh, but then I had power.
Power.
<� They Ask Why �>
A certain person wondered why
a big strong girl like me
wouldn’t keep a job
which paid a normal salary.
I took my time to lead her
and to read her every page.
Even minimal people
can’t survive on minimal wage.
A certain person wondered why
I wait all week for you.
I didn’t have the words
to describe just what you do.
I said you had the motion
of the ocean in your walk,
and when you solve my riddles
you don’t even have to talk.
Honorable Mentions:
- Ailey, Baldwin, Floyd, Killens, and Mayfield
- Our Grandmothers
- Changing
June 24, 2023
A great friend gave me a signed copy of this collection of poems. After all the books and other poetry collections, I never had read it. Insightful poetry. Two years before she took stage at president’s inauguration.
The last of her works from this collection talks of great souls. It certainly resonated after all of the grief I have had in the past two years loosing loved ones:
“When great souls die…our memory, suddenly sharpened…when great souls die…our souls dependent upon their nurture…when great souls die…our senses never to be the same…they existed. They existed. We can be. Be and be better. For they existed.�
Simply beautiful, and written by a beautiful soul.
The last of her works from this collection talks of great souls. It certainly resonated after all of the grief I have had in the past two years loosing loved ones:
“When great souls die…our memory, suddenly sharpened…when great souls die…our souls dependent upon their nurture…when great souls die…our senses never to be the same…they existed. They existed. We can be. Be and be better. For they existed.�
Simply beautiful, and written by a beautiful soul.
November 2, 2022
Powerful lyrical poems about racial injustice, reminds me of the era of Martin Luther King and Malcolm X. I personally like Claudia Rankine's poems more but it's clear to me why these poems are well loved and important.
June 3, 2020
This tiny tome moves.
February 6, 2017
Good book of poetry and relevant for the times. Some standout lines:
We are more alike, my friends,
than we are unalike.
and
Take the blinders from your vision,
take the padding from your ears,
and confess you've heard me crying,
and admit you've see my tears.
and
However I am perceived and deceived,
however my ignorance and conceits,
lay aside your fears that I will be undone,
for I shall not be moved.
We are more alike, my friends,
than we are unalike.
and
Take the blinders from your vision,
take the padding from your ears,
and confess you've heard me crying,
and admit you've see my tears.
and
However I am perceived and deceived,
however my ignorance and conceits,
lay aside your fears that I will be undone,
for I shall not be moved.
January 25, 2019
I could not rate this any less—these poems put me in someone else’s skin.
September 10, 2023
I Shall Not Be Moved by Maya Angelou, is a collection of poems that call to mind the resiliency of African Americans as we stumble towards equality in what is still a minefield in the USA. The poem, Our Grandmother is a fifteen stanza litany of the many pains, hurts and struggles unseen by the world, but moved through daily. The poem, Human Family, describes the many differences between people around all of us and yet states the truth: that we are all together in this world with the same and similar wants and needs, goals and dreams, failures, and successes. These similarities overshadow the differences, in color, creed, size, gender, and other man-made definitions created by man. These two poems and many others in this collection are luminous reminders of lives hidden from each other but with the same worth and resonance.
May 14, 2022
In all honesty, I really have had a difficult time engaging with contemporary poets especially the “woke� ones. As someone who enjoys and appreciates the arts of singing and dancing, I can now recognize that, above all else, what makes me feel all fuzzy inside when Im reading verses from a stylistically rigorous poet is that rhythm, that musicality with which their inner life is conveyed�.
But yeah, when reading Angelou’s “I Shall Not be Moved�, I was met with coarse and dissonant verses after verses, and it really put me off at first. But I persevered and was ultimately able to appreciate the meaning of her poetry as an unapologetic cry born from anger and disillusionment. Her poetry seeks, in my opinion, to speak and provide solace to these less polished, these ugly and bitter and judged-for-being-broken parts of ourselves, in turn forcing us to nuance these judgments�
Personal recommendations for the hurried�
First, poems that we’re not a vibe for their weird endorsement or heteronormativity/traditional gender roles within heterosexual relationships�: Seven Women’s Blessed Assurance & In my Missouri.
But for those who are ready to hold space to the intergenerational grief of African Americans, here are some of the poems that immediately hit me:
Coleridge Jackson, Why Are They Happy People, Son to Mother, These Yet to Be United States, Me and My Work, Changing, Born that Way, Televised, London, and this gem
But yeah, when reading Angelou’s “I Shall Not be Moved�, I was met with coarse and dissonant verses after verses, and it really put me off at first. But I persevered and was ultimately able to appreciate the meaning of her poetry as an unapologetic cry born from anger and disillusionment. Her poetry seeks, in my opinion, to speak and provide solace to these less polished, these ugly and bitter and judged-for-being-broken parts of ourselves, in turn forcing us to nuance these judgments�
Personal recommendations for the hurried�
First, poems that we’re not a vibe for their weird endorsement or heteronormativity/traditional gender roles within heterosexual relationships�: Seven Women’s Blessed Assurance & In my Missouri.
But for those who are ready to hold space to the intergenerational grief of African Americans, here are some of the poems that immediately hit me:
Coleridge Jackson, Why Are They Happy People, Son to Mother, These Yet to Be United States, Me and My Work, Changing, Born that Way, Televised, London, and this gem
Our Grandmothers
She lay, skin down on the moist dirt,
the canebrake rustling
with the whispers of leaves, and
loud longing of hounds and
the ransack of hunters crackling the near branches.
She muttered, lifting her head a nod toward freedom,
I shall not, I shall not be moved.
She gathered her babies,
their tears slick as oil on black faces,
their young eyes canvassing mornings of madness.
Momma, is Master going to sell you
from us tomorrow?
Yes.
Unless you keep walking more
and talking less.
Yes.
Unless the keeper of our lives
releases me from all commandments.
Yes.
And your lives,
never mine to live,
will be executed upon the killing floor of innocents.
Unless you match my heart and words,
saying with me,
I shall not be moved.
In Virginia tobacco fields,
leaning into the curve
of Steinway
pianos, along Arkansas roads,
in the red hills of Georgia,
into the palms of her chained hands, she
cried against calamity,
You have tried to destroy me
and though I perish daily,
I shall not be moved.
Her universe, often
summarized into one black body
falling finally from the tree to her feet,
made her cry each time in a new voice,
All my past hastens to defeat,
and strangers claim the glory of my love,
Iniquity has bound me to his bed,
yet, I must not be moved.
She heard the names,
swirling ribbons in the wind of history;
nigger, nigger bitch, heifer,
mammy, property, creature, ape, baboon,
whore, hot tail, thing, it.
She said, But my description cannot
fit your tongue, for
I have a certain way of being in this world,
and I shall not, I shall not be moved.
No angel stretched protecting wings
above the heads of her children,
fluttering and urging the winds of reason
into the confusion of their lives.
They sprouted like young weeds,
but she could not shield their growth
from the grinding blades of ignorance, nor
shape them into symbolic topiaries.
She sent them away,
underground, overland, in coaches and
shoeless.
When you learn, teach
When you get, give.
As for me,
I shall not be moved.
She stood in midocean, seeking dry land.
She searched God's face.
Assured.
she placed her fire of service
on the altar, and though
clothed in the finery of faith,
when she appeared at the temple door,
no sign welcomed
Black Grandmother. Enter here.
Into the crashing sound,
into wickedness, she cried,
No one, no, nor no one million
ones dare deny me God. I go forth
alone, and stand as ten thousand.
The Divine upon my right
impels me to pull forever
at the latch on Freedom's gate.
The Holy Spirit upon my left leads my
feet without ceasing into the camp of the
righteous and into the tents of the free.
These momma faces, lemon-yellow, plum-purple,
honey-brown, have grimaced and twisted
down a pyramid of years.
She is Sheba and Sojourner,
Harriet and Zora,
Mary Bethune and Angela,
Annie to Zenobia.
She stands
before the abortion clinic.
confounded by the lack of choices.
In the Welfare line,
reduced to the pity of handouts
Ordained in the pulpit, shielded
by the mysteries.
In the operating room,
husbanding life.
In the choir loft,
holding God in her throat.
On lonely street corners,
hawking her body.
In the classroom, loving the
children to understanding.
Centered on the world's stage,
she sings to her loves and beloveds,
to her foes and detractors:
However I am perceived and deceived,
however my ignorance and conceits,
lay aside your fears that I will be undone,
for I shall not be moved.
December 1, 2024
maya angelou writes with such profound richness, her poems are beautifully and lyrically paced. i think my favourite of her poems in this collection is "these yet to be united states"
"seas shift at your bidding..
your mushrooms fill the sky
why are you unhappy?
why do your children cry?"
her work is staggering so glad i picked this up and i would love to read more from angelou
"seas shift at your bidding..
your mushrooms fill the sky
why are you unhappy?
why do your children cry?"
her work is staggering so glad i picked this up and i would love to read more from angelou
September 27, 2017
Yet another shining example of why Maya Angelou endures. Brilliant wordplay (although a bit heavy on rhyme, some of the time), poignant subject matter, and exquisite use of imagery. As relevant now as it was 1990. Read it.
November 26, 2017
Wow, some really powerful and important stuff in here
August 7, 2018
Many and More & Our Grandmothers were my JAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMM!!!
January 8, 2021
Its wonderful to enjoy timeless black art in its pure vulnerability and genius.
October 1, 2021
Beautiful words, in poetic form, highlighting importance of equality, and kindness, and all the beautiful things in life!
April 29, 2024
Human Family
Old Folks Laugh
Me and My Work
Born that Way
Many and More
Old Folks Laugh
Me and My Work
Born that Way
Many and More
November 29, 2024
A lovely book of poems that are also reminders, warnings, love letters, and hugs.
April 13, 2018
Lean into Aries season with Maya Angelou’s poems. Beautiful and underhyped.
May 27, 2019
Oh, Maya. As always I feel a sense of calm accompanied by a powerful boom deep in my chest as I finish reading your words. Beautiful, raw and poignant.
August 7, 2016
There is no describing the world of Maya Angelou. You are brought in this great wall of humanity. And she sets you STRAIGHT:
"We are more alike my friends,
Than we are unalike"
'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 back yard.'
'The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.'
Maya Angelou in her incredible world captured our shared humanity! Bless!
"We are more alike my friends,
Than we are unalike"
'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 back yard.'
'The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.'
Maya Angelou in her incredible world captured our shared humanity! Bless!
February 20, 2015
A short book with short but powerful poems, my favorite being Human Family. Some random lines:
We love and lose in China,
We weep on England's moors,
And laugh and moan in Guinea,
And thrive on Spanish shores.
We seek success in Finland,
Are born and die in Maine.
In minor ways we differ,
In major we're the same.
I note the obvious differences
Between each sort and type,
But we are more alike, my friends,
Than we are unalike.
We love and lose in China,
We weep on England's moors,
And laugh and moan in Guinea,
And thrive on Spanish shores.
We seek success in Finland,
Are born and die in Maine.
In minor ways we differ,
In major we're the same.
I note the obvious differences
Between each sort and type,
But we are more alike, my friends,
Than we are unalike.
June 25, 2022
In all honesty, I really have had a difficult time engaging with contemporary poets especially the “woke� ones. As someone who enjoys and appreciates the arts of singing and dancing, I can now recognize that, above all else, what makes me feel all fuzzy inside when Im reading verses from a stylistically rigorous poet is that rhythm, that musicality with which their inner life is conveyed�.
But yeah, when reading Angelou’s “I Shall Not be Moved�, I was met with coarse and dissonant verses after verses, and it really put me off at first. But I persevered and was ultimately able to appreciate the meaning of her poetry as an unapologetic cry born from anger and disillusionment. Her poetry seeks, in my opinion, to speak and provide solace to these less polished, these ugly and bitter and judged-for-being-broken parts of ourselves, in turn forcing us to nuance these judgments�
Personal recommendations for the hurried�
First, poems that we’re not a vibe for their weird endorsement or heteronormativity/traditional gender roles within heterosexual relationships�: Seven Women’s Blessed Assurance & In my Missouri.
But for those who are ready to hold space to the intergenerational grief of African Americans, here are some of the poems that immediately hit me:
Coleridge Jackson, Why Are They Happy People, Son to Mother, These Yet to Be United States, Me and My Work, Changing, Born that Way, Televised, London, and this gem
But yeah, when reading Angelou’s “I Shall Not be Moved�, I was met with coarse and dissonant verses after verses, and it really put me off at first. But I persevered and was ultimately able to appreciate the meaning of her poetry as an unapologetic cry born from anger and disillusionment. Her poetry seeks, in my opinion, to speak and provide solace to these less polished, these ugly and bitter and judged-for-being-broken parts of ourselves, in turn forcing us to nuance these judgments�
Personal recommendations for the hurried�
First, poems that we’re not a vibe for their weird endorsement or heteronormativity/traditional gender roles within heterosexual relationships�: Seven Women’s Blessed Assurance & In my Missouri.
But for those who are ready to hold space to the intergenerational grief of African Americans, here are some of the poems that immediately hit me:
Coleridge Jackson, Why Are They Happy People, Son to Mother, These Yet to Be United States, Me and My Work, Changing, Born that Way, Televised, London, and this gem
Our Grandmothers
She lay, skin down on the moist dirt,
the canebrake rustling
with the whispers of leaves, and
loud longing of hounds and
the ransack of hunters crackling the near branches.
She muttered, lifting her head a nod toward freedom,
I shall not, I shall not be moved.
She gathered her babies,
their tears slick as oil on black faces,
their young eyes canvassing mornings of madness.
Momma, is Master going to sell you
from us tomorrow?
Yes.
Unless you keep walking more
and talking less.
Yes.
Unless the keeper of our lives
releases me from all commandments.
Yes.
And your lives,
never mine to live,
will be executed upon the killing floor of innocents.
Unless you match my heart and words,
saying with me,
I shall not be moved.
In Virginia tobacco fields,
leaning into the curve
of Steinway
pianos, along Arkansas roads,
in the red hills of Georgia,
into the palms of her chained hands, she
cried against calamity,
You have tried to destroy me
and though I perish daily,
I shall not be moved.
Her universe, often
summarized into one black body
falling finally from the tree to her feet,
made her cry each time in a new voice,
All my past hastens to defeat,
and strangers claim the glory of my love,
Iniquity has bound me to his bed,
yet, I must not be moved.
She heard the names,
swirling ribbons in the wind of history;
nigger, nigger bitch, heifer,
mammy, property, creature, ape, baboon,
whore, hot tail, thing, it.
She said, But my description cannot
fit your tongue, for
I have a certain way of being in this world,
and I shall not, I shall not be moved.
No angel stretched protecting wings
above the heads of her children,
fluttering and urging the winds of reason
into the confusion of their lives.
They sprouted like young weeds,
but she could not shield their growth
from the grinding blades of ignorance, nor
shape them into symbolic topiaries.
She sent them away,
underground, overland, in coaches and
shoeless.
When you learn, teach
When you get, give.
As for me,
I shall not be moved.
She stood in midocean, seeking dry land.
She searched God's face.
Assured.
she placed her fire of service
on the altar, and though
clothed in the finery of faith,
when she appeared at the temple door,
no sign welcomed
Black Grandmother. Enter here.
Into the crashing sound,
into wickedness, she cried,
No one, no, nor no one million
ones dare deny me God. I go forth
alone, and stand as ten thousand.
The Divine upon my right
impels me to pull forever
at the latch on Freedom's gate.
The Holy Spirit upon my left leads my
feet without ceasing into the camp of the
righteous and into the tents of the free.
These momma faces, lemon-yellow, plum-purple,
honey-brown, have grimaced and twisted
down a pyramid of years.
She is Sheba and Sojourner,
Harriet and Zora,
Mary Bethune and Angela,
Annie to Zenobia.
She stands
before the abortion clinic.
confounded by the lack of choices.
In the Welfare line,
reduced to the pity of handouts
Ordained in the pulpit, shielded
by the mysteries.
In the operating room,
husbanding life.
In the choir loft,
holding God in her throat.
On lonely street corners,
hawking her body.
In the classroom, loving the
children to understanding.
Centered on the world's stage,
she sings to her loves and beloveds,
to her foes and detractors:
However I am perceived and deceived,
however my ignorance and conceits,
lay aside your fears that I will be undone,
for I shall not be moved.
December 26, 2011
I put off finishing this book because I really needed to hear the pieces to appreciate them. (As I tend to read while I eat, and I've learned not to talk with my mouth full, this meant setting aside special time for this book). Angelou's text is lyrical, and I am glad that I did make time to finally finish her work. I enjoyed it.
December 5, 2008
this was a good poem book. many of the poems were very deep and meaningful.
May 1, 2012
Awesome stuff. I love the way she writes.
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