Caged.

 

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

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

                                            Image courtesy of Brtiannica.

             Do you "stand on the grave of dreams" long for "Things unknown but longed for still" Do you sing of freedom and a desire to break free from your cage of conventions?
            We all have that burning desire to be free, yet most accept to be caged in the strict confines and dictates of a human devised system of greed and selfishness, shackled to the confines of the financial markets and the parasite class that owns it and controls it to their own advantage. Why?
          That cage can be broken, its bars torn asunder, and that better world for all created. It is up to us, our solidarity and determination to be free to come together in communities and workplaces and take control of our lives and the society in which we live. We are the creators of all the riches of this world, we can and should take control of all those riches to see to the needs of all our people. Let's break that cage of conventions, grasp our freedom and create that better world for all. We owe it to our children and our grandchildren. 

 

Visit ann arky's home at https://spiritofrevolt.info    

A Poem For International Women's Day, 2017.

      Another poem for International Women's Day,  thanks Loam for reminding me of this one.


You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll 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 like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

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.

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'll 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's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Maya Angelou.

Visit ann arky's home at www.radicalglasgow.me.uk