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The Little Native Rose
There is a lasting little flower,
That everybody knows,
Yet none has thought to think about
The little Native Rose.
The wattle and the waratah—
The world has heard of those;
But who, outside Australia, kens
The little Native Rose.
Yet first for faint, far off perfume,
That lives where memory goes;
And first of all for fadelessness—
The little Native Rose.
poem by Henry Lawson
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The birth Identity.
It is my native place,
Where I was not born
And where my father came
As an adopted child.
I studied somewhere,
Worked and lived somewhere.
I have not settled there
Where I was born and hence
Would be cremated somewhere.
Still I call it as my native place
Where alone I still keep
Some sort of birth identity.
30.03.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I Long For Lives I Never Had
I LONG FOR LIVES I NEVER HAD
I long for lives I never had
For women I never knew
For the joy of being with them
And for the dream of our intimacy-
I long for lives I never had
And never will have-
And as I approach the end
I long too for my own life
that soon will cease to exist.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Native American
I am native american
Ho ka hey wah nah (steven and bruce)
Ho ka hey wah nah woh
Ho ka hey wah nah
Ho ka hey wah nah woh
Ho ka hey wah nah
Ho ka hey wah nah woh
(editors note: the above is war cry of the lakota(sioux) meaning
Lets go - now)
Life was forever when we were young (steven)
The land was protected for everyone (bruce)
Forever as long as the rivers run (both)
But now the water no longer comes (steven)
And now all that remains (both)
Is darkness a poisoned earth
And now before its too late
We must provide our own new birth
Chorus:
I am native american
I am native american
The question of honor you must decide (bruce)
The soul of the nation has been denied (steven)
Our dreams have been stolen before our eyes (both)
How do you say theres no tomorrow to a child? (bruce)
>from us there is much to learn (both)
There is so much youve forgotten
You cant change me
Try and understand I am proud of who I am
Chorus:
I am native american
I am native american
We must try and remember what were here for (steven)
You will suffer the darkness alone no more (bruce)
You will have the strength of all of us
Gathered here today (both)
That is something they can never take away (bruce)
Chorus:
I am native american
I am native american
Ho ka hey wah nah (steven and bruce)
Ho ka hey wah nah woh
Repeat 7 more times til fade
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Emigrant's Farewell
Our native land - our native vale -
A long and last adieu!
Farewell to bonny Teviotdale,
And Cheviot mountains blue.
Farewell, ye hills of glorious deeds,
And streams renown'd in sing -
Farewell ye braes and blossom'd meads,
Our hearts have lov'd so long.
Farewell, the blythesome broomy knowes,
Where thyme and harebells grow -
Farewell, the hoary, haunted howes,
O'erhung with birk and sloe.
The mossy cave and mouldering tower
That skirt our native dell -
The martyr's grave, and lover's bower,
We bid a sad farewell!
Home of our love! our fathers' home!
Land of the brave and free!
The sail is flapping on the foam
That bears us far from thee.
We seek a wild and distant shore,
Beyond the western main -
We leave thee to return no more,
Nor view thy cliffs again!
Our native land - our native vale -
A long and last adieu!
Farewell to bonny Teviotdale,
And Scotland's mountains blue!
poem by Thomas Pringle
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Human Chronicles (Part Two)
and here in the United States...
the flag of freedom desecrated.
betrayed by our own greed,
by the sins of 'I, Me, Mine'...
carrying the weight of the wars,
the patriotic lies,
the lives taken,
the peoples abused.
the karmic curse
of Native American blood,
the bodies of the slaves,
buried beneath the hanging tree.
the muffled cries of the immigrants
who did our farm work,
and were herded like cattle.
the ghosts of the common workers
pounding the unemployed streets.
too long, too long,
we've closed our eyes.
too long, too long,
we've turned the other way!
and now we've come to this!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Native Son
Ive seen many moons through these wrinkled eyes
The years have made me old but theyve made me wise
Now the white man lives where our rivers run
For now better days have passed
We walk the streets of broken glass
Our people vanished as snow before the summer sun
Like dogs we were driven from this place
Such injustice, time will not erase
All these changes cannot be undone
When you feel the anger inside of you
Hold your head high - let your aim be true
Though your heart beats like a drum
My native son
Once there was a time my little one
Before the wagons - before the soldiers guns
When this land was ours as far as the eagle flies
No white flag - no broken truce
With few words one can speak the truth - I dont hear it
Time wont heal it now
With each new day that comes to pass
Will the great spirit free us all at last?
He said we were the chosen ones
For all we had theres nothin left
We wont forgive - we cant forget
You know that your day will come
My native son
With each new day that comes to pass
Will the great spirit free us all at last?
What has happened can never be undone
When I was young - not yet a man
The sun rose and set upon our land
We were the chosen ones
My native son
song performed by by Bryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Family tree missing
Unless you live in a place
Where your father and his, lived,
You will miss being seen as a tree.
Instead,
You will die as a twig or a branch.
Unless you have in a place
Three generations having lived,
You will fail losing a native place,
The place that preserves your identity.
Rampant migration that is in force
Will deprive the present generation
Of what their forefathers enjoyed.
07.12.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Long, Long Day
Its been a long, long day
I got some run-down shoes
Aint got no place to stay
But any old place will be okay
Its been a long, long day
I sure been on this road
Done nearly fourteen years
Cant say my names well known
You dont see my face in rolling stone
But I sure been on this road
Slow motion
Half a dollar bill
Jukebox in the corner
Shooting to kill
And its been a...
Its been a long, long day
I sure could use a friend
Dont know what else to say
I hate to abuse an old cliche
But its been a long, long day
Its been a long, long day
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Place
There is a place
In my heart that still dances
A place in my soul that sings
- And sings, and dances and dances -
A place so deep, so set
A place that even the mundane drudgery
The routine day-to-day
Can not kill
A place so close, so distant
A place that was, and is yet to come
A place where belief originates and lives
The birth place of
The most human humanity
The most divine divinity
A place where
Majesty, mystery and magic still speak
A place of all origins.
Some will not hear it any longer.
But, I still listen...
Waiting... hoping... trusting...believing...
The Place... is real.
It's way out there - it's everywhere...
It is ever within.
This Place... is my place.
It has called to me by name
Since the day of birth,
It's name is simple and profound;
I call him
Jesus.
He calls me
'My child.'
It's to him we go.
It's for us he came.
He is where I belong.
I am always on the Way
To the Place
Where he is.
The Place... home.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Separate Lives
Eric woolfson - lead vocal
Its been a long road
Weve walked the last mile
We reach the same conclusion
And we stop for a while
Together we know
The way we must go
Were leaving an illusion
Thats for us to share
Only for us to share
We live our separate lives
And go our different ways
Cause we dont see eye to eye
And we cant stand face to face
We live our separate lives
While counting all the days
Till the two of us arrive
In another time and place
We share the same thoughts
We read the same lines
We meet on sad occasions
And in happier times
A spoken goodbye
And both of us try
To walk away in silence
Thats for us to share,
Only for us to share
We live our separate lives
And go our different ways
Cause we dont see eye to eye
And we cant stand face to face
We live our separate lives
While counting all the days
Till the two of us arrive
In another time and place
And always goodbye
But heaven knows why
I cant erase the memory
Thats for us to share
Only for us to share
Only for us to share
We live our separate lives
And go our different ways
Cause we dont see eye to eye
And we cant stand face to face
We live our separate lives
While counting all the days
Till the two of us arrive
In another time and place
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walked
Native American Pride
They always came to us with a bribe
Wrong and misunderstood
They took our hood
We walked the Trail of Tears
Everyday full of fears
Children crying
Men and women dying
All this for what
So we can live in a hut
This happened a long time ago
Because the white men had a big ego
Native American Pride is what I have and will not hide.
poem by Sylvia Dise
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Red With Native Blood
Give them back their bloody land,
red with native blood.
We have soiled it so, with our hands,
red with native blood.
The earth was stained, when we first came,
red with native blood.
We stole their domain, with a barbaric claim:
that we were civilised and they were not,
that they were the savages and we were not,
when we ravaged the land that began to clot,
red with native blood.
Not content with genocide
we interned them in reserves.
To break their culture
and tribal ways;
in stealing children
the state was brave,
to turn their women
into household slaves,
and hope their men would die,
unmourned, in lonely graves;
a problem to us no more.
Give them back their bloody land,
red with native blood.
Acknowledge their just demands,
wash the stains from our hands,
give them back their bloody land,
red with native blood.
poem by David SmithWhite
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The Only Land For Me (A currency Lad)
Prate not to me of foreign strand,
Of beauty o'er the sea -
"This is my own - my native land" -
The only land for me!
The only land for me
The only land for me
"This is my own - my native land" -
The only land for me!
I love to roam, like a wild gazelle,
O'er my native mountains blue,
And wildly, thro' the woody dell,
Chase the bounding kangaroo!
The bounding kangaroo
The bounding kangaroo
And wildly thro' the woody dell
Chase the bounding kangaroo!
I've rode upon the stormy wave,
I've danc'd aboon the sea;
And where's the pleasure that it gave
Like my native land to me?
My native land to me
My native land to me
And where's the pleasure that it gave
Like my native land to me?
poem by Anonymous Oceania
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Goody for Our Side and Your Side Too
Foreigners are people somewhere else,
Natives are people at home;
If the place you’re at
Is your habitat,
You’re a foreigner, say in Rome.
But the scales of Justice balance true,
And tit leads into tat,
So the man who’s at home
When he stays in Rome
Is abroad when he’s where you’re at.
When we leave the limits of the land in which
Our birth certificates sat us,
It does not mean
Just a change of scene,
But also a change of status.
The Frenchman with his fetching beard,
The Scot with his kilt and sporran,
One moment he
May a native be,
And the next may find him foreign.
There’s many a difference quickly found
Between the different races,
But the only essential
Differential
Is living different places.
Yet such is the pride of prideful man,
From Austrians to Australians,
That wherever he is,
He regards as his,
And the natives there, as aliens.
Oh, I’ll be friends if you’ll be friends,
The foreigner tells the native,
And we’ll work together for our common ends
Like a preposition and a dative.
If our common ends seem mostly mine,
Why not, you ignorant foreigner?
And the native replies
Contrariwise;
And hence, my dears, the coroner.
So mind your manners when a native, please,
And doubly when you visit
And between us all
A rapport may fall
Ecstatically exquisite.
One simple thought, if you have it pat,
Will eliminate the coroner:
You may be a native in your habitat,
But to foreigners you’re just a foreigner.
poem by Ogden Nash
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God Bless Our Native Land
God bless our native land,
Land of the newly free,
Oh may she ever stand
For truth and liberty.
God bless our native land,
Where sleep our kindred dead,
Let peace at thy command
Above their graves be shed.
God help our native land,
Bring surcease to her strife,
And shower from thy hand
A more abundant life.
God bless our native land,
Her homes and children bless,
Oh may she ever stand
For truth and righteousness.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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Between our dreams and then our lives.
There's a little place that lies
Between our dreams and then our lives
Its a place where we should always spend some time.
Its the place where lovers meet
Its the place that on the street
Separates me from simply what is mine.
Its the place where bank accounts
And concerns about amounts
Take second place to what it is that matters.
Its sometimes hidden in the mind
But its there for us to find
If we will only just stop idle chatter.
It's a place that is our own
It's been with us while we've grown
It's the inner peace within the outer wrapping.
It's not taught to you at school
And doesn't follow any rules
It's the soul we have and without which we're lacking.
poem by David Keig
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Our Lives For Sale
As long as we adjust
Our lives are for sale
Like a mouse's tail
Today we are health
Tomorrow is our death
Our lives are for sale
Our ancestors could tell
Now enjoying with our wives
Later absence of lives
Our lives are for sale
Drained like water in a pail
Eating like a pig
But our clothes seem to be big
Our lives are for sale
And can fall over like a well
Today we are just weak
Tomorrow we are sick
Our lives are for sale
As we fail to exhale.
poem by Walani Ndhlovu
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Rime 111
Place me where ocean breaks with angry roar,
Or where the waters lie serene and calm,
Place me wherever sun shoots sparks that scorch
Or where the ice pierces with sharpest pain,
Place me beside the frozen Don, by Ganges
Where the sweet dew and manna are distilled,
Or where the bitter air sparkles with poison,
Wherever people laugh and cry for love.
Place me where cruel, heartless Scythians strike,
Or where the people live in peace and quiet,
Or where one lives and dies, too soon, too late
I shall live as I've lived, be what I've been,
As long as my two faithful stars still shine
And will not turn their light away from me.
poem by Gaspara Stampa
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Restlessness And Loneliness
Restlessness and loneliness
go together all the time.
If you are restless
invariably, you are lonely
drifting always
never settling long enough
to fulfil your life’s need.
Never passing one place
no more than one time,
long enough to get to know
anyone who lives there.
Always on the move
wherever the wind blows.
22 January 2008
poem by David Harris
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