Wednesday, September 07, 2005

Phenomenal Me?

So far today (it is 8:25am): I realized my neighbors are home from their LA trip. (How? You might ask. Think this.) I have found my long lost lip gloss (apparently Dash thought it was a new toy, hence my finding it between the stove and the counter). I have had my bottom lip cut by a kitten claw (apparently me trying to sleep in my own bed undisturbed at 6:15am is no longer an option). I have used 2-days-past-expiration milk in my tea (fingers crossed I don't start puking). I got my heel stuck in the elevator grate as I walked off of it into work (my coworker had leaned out his cube to say hello and I subsequently made a joke about having a "J Lo moment" and asked "Where is my Matthew Maconaghey?" I managed to dislodge the shoe before the door shut on me.)

I think this has the makings for one of those days.

Last night, as I tried to fall asleep, feeling a bit low, taking too much to heart, this poem came to my mind. I thought I'd share. It helps me feel better about me.

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.


-Maya Angelou, "Phenomenal Woman"

5 comments:

erin said...

Oh, I like this poem. I was just thinking about what it means to be a woman yesterday.


I think you're okay on the milk. My mom always allowed up to 4 days past the date, and I haven't been sick yet.

B Merrick said...

you are way fine with the expiration date. Expiration dates aren't really the day something goes sour, it is the last day the company will stand by it's product. Once the expiration date hits, you can sue if the product makes you sick. I learned this because when we would eat out of the dumpsters when I was a child, I didn't understand why they couldn't just give us the food they were throwing out. Legally, they have to throw it in the trash, because even if you are homeless and eating expired food, you have the right to sue if it makes you sick. Welcome to the good ol' USA.

I always say you are safe up to a good 7 days with milk... when in a situation like yours especially!

Anonymous said...

I've always found that the sniff test goes a long way with milk, regardless of the date.

LOVE this poem by the way, and I can always use a reminder of my phenomenality. Phenomenitude? Phenometudisimo? ;) You get the idea.

I feel it now -- thanks for sharing!

Her Daddy's Eyes said...

I have adored that poem since I've first read it. And reading it today was something that I really needed. It helps me look at things in a better light when things aren't going so well.

Thanks for making me smile by sharing your day...:) I needed that too!

~Eyes

sue said...

I haven't heard this poem for a long time, but as I read it I did see... YOU. Wish I lived closer and could know you better. I think we'd be good friends...from everything I've seen, you are phenomenal.