Maya+Angelou+(8)



Marguerite Johnson

**__Born:__** St. Louis, Missouri on April 4, 1928; **__Death:__** still alive Grew up in St. Louis and Stamps, Arkansas
 * __Family:__** Father: Bailey Johnson, Mother: Vivian Baxter Johnson (divorced), little Brother: Bailey
 * __Career:__** Poet, producer/director, singer/songwriter, and Civil Rights activist
 * __Education:__** Mission High School, dropped out and returned to graduate while pregnant with son, Guy
 * __Auhtors/Poets of influence:__** Poe and Shakespeare
 * __Unique characteristics of work:__** uses real experiences about her own life
 * __Influence/Focus of works:__** focused writing on personal experiences
 * __List of famous works:__** I know why the caged bird sings, still i rise, and phenomenal women
 * __Any other information of note:__** she was born Marguerite Annie Johnson but her brother couldn't pronounce her name and called her maya after indians

__**I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings**__ The free bird leaps on the back of the win and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wings in the orange sun rays and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage can seldom see through his bars of rage his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with fearful trill of the things unknown but longed for still and is tune is heard on the distant hillfor the caged bird sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze an 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.

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.

__**Phenomenal Women**__ Pretty women wonder where my secret lies. I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size But when I start to tell them, They think I'm telling lies. I say, It's in the reach of my arms The span of my hips, The stride of my step, The curl of my lips. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me.

I walk into a room Just as cool as you please, And to a man, The fellows stand or Fall down on their knees. Then they swarm around me, A hive of honey bees. I say, It's the fire in my eyes, And the flash of my teeth, The swing in my waist, And the joy in my feet. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me.

Men themselves have wondered What they see in me. They try so much But they can't touch My inner mystery. When I try to show them They say they still can't see. I say, It's in the arch of my back, The sun of my smile, The ride of my breasts, The grace of my style. I'm a woman

Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me.

Now you understand Just why my head's not bowed. I don't shout or jump about Or have to talk real loud. When you see me passing It ought to make you proud. I say, It's in the click of my heels, The bend of my hair, the palm of my hand, The need of my care, 'Cause I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me.

The [|traveler]
Byways and bygone And lone nights long Sun rays and sea waves And star and stone Manless and friendless No cave my home This is my torture My long nights, lone