1. EQUALITY STILL I RISE
Written by Maya Angelou Written by Maya Angelou
You declare you see me dimly You may write me down in history
through a glass which will not shine, With your bitter, twisted lies,
though I stand before you boldly, You may trod me in the very dirt
trim in rank and making time. But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
You do own to hear me faintly Why are you beset with gloom?
as a whisper out of range, 'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
while my drums beat out the message Pumping in my living room.
and the rhythms never change.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Equality, and I will be free. Just like hopes springing high,
Equality, and I will be free. Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
You announce my ways are wanton, Bowed head and lowered eyes?
that I fly from man to man, Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
but if I'm just a shadow to you, Weakened by my soulful cries.
could you ever understand?
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
We have lived a painful history, 'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
we know the shameful past, Diggin' in my own back yard.
but I keep on marching forward,
and you keep on coming last. You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
Equality, and I will be free. But still, like air, I'll rise.
Equality, and I will be free.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
Take the blinders from your vision, That I dance like I've got diamonds
take the padding from your ears, At the meeting of my thighs?
and confess you've heard me crying, Out of the huts of history's shame - I rise
and admit you've seen my tears. Up from a past that's rooted in pain - I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Hear the tempo so compelling,
hear the blood throb through my veins. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear - I rise
Yes, my drums are beating nightly, Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear - I rise
and the rhythms never change. Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
Equality, and I will be free. I rise I rise I rise.
Equality, and I will be free.

2. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings TO AMERICA
Written by Maya Angelou Written by James Weldon Johnson
(1871-1938)
A free bird leaps on the back of the wind
and floats downstream till the current ends How would you have us, as we are?
and dips his wing in the orange suns rays Or sinking 'neath the load we bear?
and dares to claim the sky. Our eyes fixed forward on a star?
Or gazing empty at despair?
But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage
can seldom see through his bars of rage Rising or falling? Men or things?
his wings are clipped and his feet are With dragging pace or footsteps fleet?
tied so he opens his throat to sing. Strong, willing sinews in your wings?
Or tightening chains about your feet?
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill Advice
for the caged bird sings of freedom.
Written by Gwendolyn Bennett (1902-
The free bird thinks of another breeze 1981)
and the trade winds soft through the
sighing trees and the fat worms
waiting on a dawn-bright lawn and
he names the sky his own. You were a sophist,
Pale and quite remote,
As you bade me
But a caged bird stands on the Write poems---
grave of dreams his shadow shouts Brown poems
on a nightmare scream Of dark words
his wings are clipped and his feet are
And prehistoric rhythms....
tied so he opens his throat to sing.
Your pallor stifled my poesy
But I remebered a tapestry
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill That I would some day weave
of things unknown but longed for still Of dim purples and fine reds
and his tune is heard on the distant hill And blues
for the caged bird sings of freedom. Like night and death---
The keen precision of your words
Wove a silver thread
Through the dusk softness
Of my dream-stuff....

3. Heritage even death will not stop me from struggling
Written by Gwendolyn Bennett Written by Kalamu Ya Salaam
I want to see the slim palm-trees, i will continue
Pulling at the clouds as ashes & dust
With little pointed fingers....
my bronze flesh will join the soil
I want to see lithe Negro girls, of free lands everywhere
Etched dark against the sky & grow trees
While sunset lingers. be the mud within which rabbits burrow
be carpet of rain forest mountain walls
I want to hear the silent sands, welcoming gorillas home
Singing to the moon
Before the Sphinx-still face.... my bronze flesh
sacred ground
I want to hear the chanting will become ancestor soil
Around a heathen fire
Of a strange black race. and i will also be dry dust
refusing to cover despots
I want to breathe the Lotus flow'r, i'll clog the air filters
Sighing to the stars of tanks & invade the nostrils
With tendrils drinking at the Nile.... of invaders
I want to feel the surging you hear that wind
Of my sad people's soul that's my dying breath
Hidden by a minsrel-smile. laughing at those who thought
they'd seen the last of me
you see that baby eating soil
dirt smeared around her cheeks
that worker dusting himself off
that couple of love embracing on
picnic ground
that hopi sand painting
that amazonian stripped with the chalk
of white clay
you see me
i am sorry to disappoint you
but i do not die
i just move to another plane of existence
and become the fertilizer of the future
even when i'm gone
i will still be here
though death do us part