For anyone who read in the Dominion Post today that Wi Huata composed the 'poem' which he dictated to journalists outside the Court of Appeal:

You may write me down in history with your bitter, twisted lies.
You may trod 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 the moon and the sun, with the certainty of tides,
just like hope springing high, still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken, bowed head with lowered eyes,
shoulders falling just like teardrops weeping by my soulful cries?
Does my haughtiness upset you? Don't you take it awfully hard.
Because I laugh like I've got gold mines digging in my own backyard.
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?
Because I dance like I've got diamonds at the meeting of my thighs.
Out of the huts of shame I rise.
Out of the past that's written, rooted in pain I rise.
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
welling and swelling, I bring in the tide.
Leaving behind the lights of terror and fear I rise.
Into the daybreak that's wondrously clear I rise.
Bringing the gifts my ancestors gave,
I am the hope and the dream of the slave.
I rise, I rise, I rise.

.. I felt it necessary to point out that the 'poem' is actually by African-American writer Dr. Maya Angelou (wikipedia) (which makes much more sense of the diamonds at the meeting of my thighs line, in particular, not to mention the whole slave bit as well).

..just in case someone reading it was so moved they decided to award him an OBE for Services to Literature. Or something.


NP: Burzum - Det Som En Gang Var (Burzum home)

Labels: misanthropy