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Post by Plumeriasmoon on Dec 5, 2010 1:27:24 GMT -6
For you Tynged..... Still I Rise You may write me down in history With byour bitter twisted lies You may trod me in the very dirt But still,like dust,I 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 suns, With the certainty of tides Just like hope springing high Still I rise Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling like teardrops Weakened by my soulful cries Does my haughtiness offend you? Don't you take it awful hard 'Cause I laugh like like I've got gold mines Diggin' in my backyard 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 rise Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise 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 that is rooted in pain I rise I'm a black ocean,leaping ang wide Welling and swelling I bear in the tide Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Bringing the gifts my ancestors gave I am the hope and the dream of the slave I rise I rise I rise. Through the pain of your past,you will find the strength to find your path and you most certainly will rise.
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Post by Kyashi on Dec 5, 2010 1:37:06 GMT -6
Very well said,my dear Kyashi. Thank you, my dear plumey.... And, again, another masterful poem.
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Post by Plumeriasmoon on Dec 5, 2010 2:06:18 GMT -6
Thank you,Kyashi.I take that as a high compliment considering you write so beautifully. ;D
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Post by tynged on Dec 5, 2010 10:09:10 GMT -6
@plumerias Did you really find that, or did you write it yourself? Either way, that's amazingly thoughtful. Thank you, and to everyone else as well for the kind words and hug. dyzzispell Oh, I wouldn't be so hard on your teen-self! I think a lot of prejudices come from people simply not being told the full matter, or even that there can be nothing more to a matter than what they've been told. Not everyone has the creativity or curiosity to break out of that by themselves, I know I didn't. I'm just so blessed with having eventually met a lot of good teachers (a few not even in the actual profession of teaching... or even people, sometimes it's an experience... and not always technically mine... Which is why it's good for all of us to share these things!
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Post by Kyashi on Dec 5, 2010 20:11:01 GMT -6
Thank you,Kyashi.I take that as a high compliment considering you write so beautifully. ;D Did you write that poem yourself? It is gorgeous, so put your John Hancock on that, if you did!
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Post by AllyKatt on Dec 5, 2010 20:59:54 GMT -6
the poem is "Still I Rise" by Maya Angelou
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Post by Plumeriasmoon on Dec 6, 2010 0:45:24 GMT -6
Yes,that wonderful poem is Maya Angelou.I had forgot to put her name with the title.Please forgive me for that.It was an honest mistake.I would never take credit for something I didn't write myself.
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Post by Kyashi on Dec 6, 2010 19:16:57 GMT -6
Yes,that wonderful poem is Maya Angelou.I had forgot to put her name with the title.Please forgive me for that.It was an honest mistake.I would never take credit for something I didn't write myself. It's not a problem. I thought it was another Maya Angelou poem, anyway.
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Post by athena167 on Dec 13, 2010 9:01:53 GMT -6
I was asked to post this in here from another forum......i was hoping to start an exercise where people are open about the things they dont like about themselves to show each other that we all have insecurities and that it doesnt change who we are as people
mine are my moles that make me look waaaayyyy to much like Queen Amadal from Episode 1......i hate them
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Post by tynged on Dec 13, 2010 15:24:51 GMT -6
It's not really physical, but sometimes I have thoughts on a subject that I feel a compulsion to say or write up, and I put in extra time and effort to make it clear. Unfortunately, that makes it a little long and technical. So, often, when I think back on it, or read it again, I think "What pretentious douchebag wrote this / says things like that? Oh, haha. It's me."
The next time I feel that urge, though, I only wonder if it'll sound embarrassing later on. But I reason that it can't be pretentious if I sincerely believe it, and I've a right to speak up in any case, and I can't sound more natural/understanding/persuasive whatevs without practice, so I go ahead.
Later I wonder how a version of myself from such a short time in my past could both think so differently and be guaranteed to pop up again in a few hours. It's still me throughout, no escaping that fact by pleading mood swings or a split personality, I am totally myself at all of those times. That's what makes it so weird.
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Post by Kyashi on Dec 14, 2010 3:07:46 GMT -6
I hate that we don't feel like we can be ourselves. But, ironically, when we are ourselves, that's the only time we truly shine. It's when we show the world how unique we are and exactly what we have to add to it that is unlike anything else brought from anyone else.
Bring your moles, your flab, your pretentious banter.. I'll bring my broken down body that doesn't work right. We are all lepers, in our own ways. Everyone of us....
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Post by avyquinn on Dec 14, 2010 3:14:41 GMT -6
I hate that we don't feel like we can be ourselves. But, ironically, when we are ourselves, that's the only time we truly shine. It's when we show the world how unique we are and exactly what we have to add to it that is unlike anything else brought from anyone else. Bring your moles, your flab, your pretentious banter.. I'll bring my broken down body that doesn't work right. We are all lepers, in our own ways. Everyone of us.... I am more myself now that I'm older than I ever have been. Youth is a blessing but also a curse in many ways.
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Post by athena167 on Dec 14, 2010 3:16:12 GMT -6
Amen!
and dont forget the over apologetic-ness
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Post by Kyashi on Dec 14, 2010 3:22:46 GMT -6
I won't...
The fact that we are all imperfect can either make us all focus on what is wrong with us, and each other, or we can realize that we are all the same, all imperfect.
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