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Comments about this poem (A Conceit
by
Maya Angelou
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Maya Angelou
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Add'em Up
(1/19/2010 4:43:00 PM) |
Life is going to be what you percieve it to be, like this poem, debate and figure out things for you to understand, however negative or positive is YOUR choice.
I believe she is expressing a togetherness/temwork to go pass and get forward to life living.
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Yutoya Brown
(12/6/2009 11:13:00 PM) |
Thank God for elders with knowledge and enough empathy to lend a hand to remove us from our high horse gently. That fall can truly be a deathly beast. Look at what it did to super man.
A conceit, an unjustified high opinion of your own qualities or abilities. For example, thinking so highly of yourself that you feel capable of not only judging a fantastic woman, but defining a fluid and broad category, for example POETRY.
Ignorance is a tough row to hoe, but some seem to stroke those oars quite enough for us all.
This is 2009, and we will continue to shine.
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Marcus Patterson
(10/27/2009 5:20:00 AM) |
A conceit -
How bold can one be to presuppose that he/she can lead any away from his/her own emotions. Our emotions are our own - our ups, downs, struggles, triumphs. We SHARE them but we don't relinquish them to others. The speaker in this poem presumes that he/she can lead the other's emotions wherever. 'Make room for me to lead you...' Where? Beyond what the other is feeling. Furthermore, who asked the speaker to do that in the first place?
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Peri Morgan
(9/24/2009 11:20:00 AM) |
To William Radenberg,
Before you start to criticise this amazing woman do some research.
Maya Angelou is one of the greatest people of our time, from her reading at the 1993 Bill Clinton inauguration, to the fact she has 3/4 libraries named after her in different countries around the world.
Her poetry is so well written and thought provoking, every poem in the hit film 'Poetic Justice' starring Tupac Shakur (yes the rapper) and Janat Jackson, was written by Maya. Oh did I mention she also co-stared in Poetic Justic aswell.
Basically what im telling you is simple,
You know absoloutly nothing about this woman, or about any of her achievments, therefore keep you slander to yourself.
If you actually did know about Maya's past, then the criticism would be welcome, but to say she know nothing about poetry...........I'm afraid my friend it is you who knows nothing on the subject.
To Maya,
Your an amazing person, when you commented on one of my pieces before I didn't even realise you were THE Maya Angelou, I love your work, ecspecially in Poetic Justice.
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Sebrina Wade
(6/29/2009 5:49:00 PM) |
TO WILLIAM RODENBERG, BEFORE YOU TRY TO CRITICISE SOMEONE CHECK YOUR SPELLING BOO BOO!
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William Rodenberg
(6/19/2009 10:11:00 PM) |
This poem grossly projects the turmoil of man through ill calculated words. Obviously she grasps no concept of the true meaing of of poetry. Which is to not isolate selected peoples who you so happen to prefer but to toss your own words of the deepend mind and emotion and she fails to relieze to not hold the hand of one but to hold the hand of many. NOt well formulated
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Mike Odyssey
(5/12/2009 8:53:00 PM) |
Dr. Angelou is saying that poetry, at best, is a vehicle. At its best, poetry is intended to reach outward, or inward, to touch others. Like with most creative expressions, the naval contemplator is lost and useless. When the true poet writes, it should always be to go beyond what is left on the page. This great poet is condemning poetry for poetry's sake. She's 'going at it' with those who think it's not cool to give and receive hope and inspiaration through poetry.
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Karie Johnson
(2/2/2009 2:15:00 PM) |
thats not how it was meant at all. it is not poetry that she is tired of. the poetry is life and the rage is the ups and downs one goes through. this peom is about how when life gets to hard and you dont want to go on the prospects of love, and even the loss of love, are worth all the drama that may come. this poem is about the eternal power of love and its ablilty to change lives.
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Kevin Straw
(12/31/2008 6:59:00 AM) |
Maya Angelou subverts the meaning of her poem by the writing of it. If she is tired of the 'rage' of poetry and its 'love of loss of love', then better she remain silent. She writes of poetry as though it were some kind of malady for which the cure is reality. A sad view of it, for poetry is not a 'rage' nor does it love its feelings, nor is it the 'privacy of touching words' - if it is, so much the worse for poetry.
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