Do I Have The Guts Measure Up To A Few Of My Favorite Poems? Poem by Sandra Dodd

Can I be a phenomenal woman
as Maya Angelo's poem boasts?
Can I step into those shoes,
even the littlest of her toes
speak the words with coolness
'I'm not cute or built to suit
a fashion model's size', or
“I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.”?
Can I feel as I do when I am
alone reading her penetrating
intimidating words for a needed
boost after a day of mirror gazing?
Words so powerful for a woman any age
to think that perhaps I could be okay
just as I am, not as I think others
may think I should be?
Do I have the courage to embrace
the wisdom of each phrase?

On a day of decisions, I stand
before my poster print of
The Road Less Traveled
bought at a five and dime
a time ago when my road was forking
I ponder with soft sighs the verse
“Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back”
He seemed confident right road traveled
he would not be doubling back
I not so affirmed in my road
always wondering if roads I chose
Should have been a boulevard
perhaps a cobbled way,
Or mud with huts along side.
Could mine have been the lesser road? ?
Do I have the courage to embrace
the prose that let me be content
in the way on way I choose?
That in the choosing I should be content!


When Langston Hughes wrote Dream Deferred
Though he passed from this earth
at nearly the moment of my birth
I know he reached across the century
to warn just me “What happens to a
dream deferred? Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore-And then run? ”
That man was a prophet to foresee
That I would put before me the dreams
of every other? Now will I let
them rot? Change them?
Run with or from the lofty thoughts?
Theorizing me too small to fulfill
what my heart screams I should be?
I am hoping against hope that on this
I am no coward. Is my dream deferred
one that still matters?

Do I have the guts to measure up
to just a few of my favorite prose?
The courage to face myself toe to toe?
To say to self “Look shut up
just walk the stupid road,
feel like a million bucks
say to yourself daily
“I am a phenomenal woman,
phenomenal woman that’s me! ”,
In my skin and bulky bones,
get up everyday go go go, on and on
for a dream that I would not esteem
me to be worthy of!

AND at the end of that road
be pleased with me, well pleased
with the one who drove
herself to be what ever I would become.
To be pleased of the journey
not ponder the results?
Dare to become something
unplanned but unique,
not safely contrived
but fully vibrantly alive?

I hope I do.
Otherwise, though breathing
I may be already dead
Just writing fussing
overstuffing and never
measuring up to be what I tempt
others to touch.
A poser of verses,
empty of substance,
full of cotton candy fluff.