She writes poetry and she is a poet. I don’t like her poetry, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t write it.
Just delete “to do so” and it’ll be fine.
Phenomenal Woman is one bad poem. I’ve written better, and I’m no poet. But a good performance might really enhance it. (One of the things I hate about a lot of modern poets is how they read their work aloud; there’s a particular odd inflection at the end of each stanza that sounds affected and somehow pretentious. I don’t think Ms. Angelou is guilty of this particular offense, though.)
She doesn’t write poetry, and she is not a poet. She writes verse and she is a versifier. “Poet” and “poetry” are words of praise, that you can choose to award someone if she meets your standard of the term and not if she does not.
So poets would like to claim. There’s no money in poetry, so there’s an attempt to make it super special and elitist through other routes. It doesn’t work.
Well, yeah, poets claim it and, like, dictionaries and stuff. Jerks like that.
As with other art, it comes down to the eye of the beholder, so is there even an objective measure?
Oh, goodie. Dictionary wars.
I’m a poet and I spend the majority of my day hanging out with other poets, and most would say that Angelou is a poet–a poet they don’t particularly like. So, there’s my argument from authority to compete with yours. Whee!
Angelou is accepted as a poet by the community of poets. She’s on the list. She’s on legitimate poetry websites. She has the credentials. Her work isn’t particularly respected, but them’s the breaks.
In Stepanek’s defense, he was only something like, 3, when he started writing shitty poetry. Also, he had muscular dystrophy, so I imagine that most people only praised him out of fear of being branded a heartless bastard. The Onion did a good one about “Dying Kid’s Poetry Sucks-But No One Will Admit It” or something like that.
Me, I’m a Tennyson girl.
There she weaves by night and day…
Keats was pretty good, too. Ever read La Belle Dame Sans Merci? sigh
As for Angelou, I really don’t know anything about her, other than that she was a big inspiration to Fiona Apple. As I adore Apple, I don’t know what to think.
Is Joyce Kilmer on your lists? McKuen? Bukowski? Are you defining a legitimate list as “one I like”? “One I’m on”? “One I’d like to be on”? Can you mail me an applcation?
You’re the one who is trying to make the definition of a word be subject to your own aesthetic, so that people who write things you like are “poets” and people who don’t aren’t. And you tried to bring in an authority to claim that your definition was the right one, and that she wasn’t a poet. I can find lots and lots and lots of evidence that she is considered one, showing how the word “poet” is actually used, so you’re the one bucking the trend.
I don’t have anything against trend bucking, but it’s going to take a hell of a lot more than a “because I said so!”
Jesus, the woman was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize in poetry, and you’re sneering around about how I don’t understand what “poet” means.
Well, you’re the one quoting partial dictionary definitions, stopping just before the parts that list (in many cases) the qualities needed to be considered a poet other than just “writing poetry,” a tautology if ever I read one.
But you’re right–I’m saying that to be called a poet is essentially subjective. if you call her a poet, and I disagree strongly, I’m going to assert , not that you’re “wrong” (which implies that there’s a right and wrong answer), but that I don’t consider her a poet. If you want to argue that point with me, fine. You’re entitled to do so, but only on the basis of her “poetry,” which I defy you to produce and defend.
I think you do not understand what a dictionary does. If there are multiple definitions, they all exist independently. I quoted the first definition, the one with the 1 next to it–which is generally the most common definition–in its entirety, from all of the dictionaries I checked online.
You are the person who decided that dictionaries prove your case. They don’t.
If you want to argue the merits of Maya Angelou’s poetry, you’ll have to find someone who likes it and can defend it. I don’t, and I won’t.
Serious poetry (something beyond the singsong glurge printed in Hallmark cards) is dead as a popular art form, so it is no surprise that Angelou’s talent or lack thereof is over- or under-rated by a large number of people, even among those who study poetry.
In such a close-knit circle, “greatness” is more a matter of personal cache than objective accomplishment. For a comparison, look at dog-shows; the same elite dogs win over and over mainly because of their reputation, ownership, and lineage, not because of anything special that the dog itself does. Please, please don’t think I’m comparing Ms. Angelou to canines here, just that the rating of poetry depends on “criteria” that seems to be ambiguous or not-defined, and so one suspects greatness in this field is decided by factors other than the poetry itself. In Ms. Angelou’s case, her personal story, her representation of the civil rights (and women’s right’s) movement, and her connections to a powerful media figure and a former president are far more responsible for her fame than the quality of her poetry.
That said, I don’t believe Ms. Angelou’s poetry is getting much of a fair shake here. “Phenomenal Woman” is definitely a performance piece, but poetry is an oral art form, so what’s wrong with that? In fact, the clues for how the performance should go are embedded in the language of the poem:
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.
Note, for example, the sing-songy rhythm of the first three lines, the sway between rhymes like “cute” and “suit”, and the brief caesura between “wonder/where” and “them, they”. I defy anyone to read this and not think of a bouncy blonde or a similar image of petit beauty.
Now look at the contrast after “I say,”. The lines are broadened by including “of my” between each of the nouns; the lines themselves are broad, spanning, and striding like the presumed larger-than-expected woman delivering them. The repetition of “phenomenal”, wrapped by the repeated word “woman” (a chiasmus for you wordsmiths 
) caps the image with a grand block of a phrase. It’s intriguing that Angelou would use the word “phenominal” here, rather than words like “incredible”, “wonderful”, or even “profound”; IMHO she is emphasizing the appearance (from the greek word phainestai - “to appear”).
You may write this off as “cute” or “trite”, but she certainly has a skill with words and phrasing, at least in this (arguably) her most famous poem.
See: Poets, Nearly all 
Joe
Hey, shaddup you!
What’s the point of that, though? Is anyone going to change anyone’s mind?
I don’t consider her a poet of any particular talent, but I’ll admit that I have never heard her read her pieces aloud, so perhaps there is more to them. She is not my cup of tea.
I have read a small amount of Gwendolyn Brooks and find her wonderful. I like(not a complete list by any means) Poe, Auden, Frost (some), Nash (some), and some female poets that I cannot bring their names to mind, but have been moved by their works. (gee, that’s helpful). What I mean is that if someone were to ask me for recommendations re poetry, Angelou would not be on the list. I think that Oprah’s support cannot be discounted, and I would like very much to see Oprah use her media might to help new, more talented artists of all kinds.
It’s kind of what I do for a living.
Wow, great post. I agree with you about the skill with words shown in this. I wonder if she used phenomenally in the sense of not only appearance, but in the sense of each of us being unique.
I have seen her in person and she is quite the force of nature. I prefer her memoirs to her poetry, and really agree with those who say that part of her power is in the performance. On the other hand, I always get more from hearing poetry than reading it.