You would be better off in exile than priding yourself on be like everyone else.
quote by George Weinberg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Too Long In Exile
Too long in exile
Too long not singing my song
Too long in exile
Too long like a rolling stone
Too long in exile
Too long in exile
Baby those people just aint, just aint your friends
Too long in exile my friend
You can never go home again
Well that isolated feeling
Drives you so close up against the wall
Till you feel like you cant go on
Youve been in the same place for too long
Too long in exile
Baby you can never go back home
Too long in exile
Anyway you want
Oh that isolated feeling
Drives you up against, up against the wall
cos youve been on the mainland baby
Been on the mainland, cominon strong
Too long in exile
Too long people keep hanging on
Too long in exile
Too long like a rolling stone
And the wheeling and the dealing
All takes up too much time
Check your better self baby
Youd better satisfy, satisfy your mind
Too long in exile
Too long youve been grinding at the mill
Too long in exile
Man, Ive really just had my fill
Too long in exile
You can never go back home again
Too long in exile
Youre about to drive me just insane
Too long in exile, been too long in exile
Just like james joyce, baby
Too long in exile
Just like samuel beckett baby
Too long in exile
Just like oscar wilde
Too long in exile
Just like george best, baby
Too long in exile
Just like alex higgins, baby
Too long in exile
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God In Exile
Why is God in exile?
Why is He banished from thy midst?
None gives any answer.
God in exile has no regrets,
God in another world is safe,
Nothing shatters His self and pride.
'God is love', they said.
'He is the redeemer', X said.
And God felt humiliated and He fled.
God in His exile is free from dawn to dusk.
He needs no solace of introception there
He is sure to win the battle of nothingness.
God in exile won`t read these lines
Nor will he bless a poet unknown.
God in exile has gone back to His mystery.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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My exile was not only a physical one, motivated exclusively by political reasons; it was also a moral, social, ideological and sexual exile.
quote by Juan Goytisolo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The unequal soul
Mother is the sole forgiving soul.
While she is alive, see she’s not in exile.
Else, you have to repent it for ever
And your exile in turn will be its reward.
28.04.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Empty Shell On The Abandoned Shores
priding on its big mouth
without teeth and lips
the empty shell sings
about its past, and the
abandoned shore begins
to weep, and the
coconut leaves start to
fall, and the........
world stops to ponder.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Heap’s peak
Everyone has a heap,
Each heap has a peak,
Be it a mountain or an ant hill.
Priding on such heap one would die,
Each soul thus getting some respite.
15.06.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Pursuing employment or climatic relief, we live in voluntary exile from our extended families and our longer past, but in an involuntary exile from ourselves and our own past.
quote by John Thorn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Time In Exile
Used to worry for each other
No ones bothered like before
We sleep with each others friends
Sneak around, fall apart
And come back for more
We sit around drinking tables
Stabalized and keeping score
But my mind is somewhere out the door
Oh, we have grown
Maybe I've overstayed a while
In my time in exile
Oh, time has flown
And the only thing I've learned
I want a life now of my own
We go to clubs
The songs are old
The evening's blown
We go our ways
And take taxi's home
We talk of sunday outings
And medicate to fight the doubting
But we know
We'll always be
Alone
We have grown
I've overstayed a while
In my time in exile
Oh, time has flown
And the only thing I've learned
I want a life now of my own
Of my own
Well that's my years spent in exile
Second guessed and dressed up in tatters
My birth feet didn't take this path
And I'm still looking for a life that matters
More than chit-chat we listen to the streets
We're all dead beats
And these old habbits are starting to show through
Sorry I didn't get to know you
Oh, time has slown
I've overstayed a while
In my time in exile
Oh, well we have grown
The one thing that I've learned
I want a life now of my own
Bye bye
To the friends I've known
In my time in exile
song performed by by Third Eye Blind
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Exile
life in exile
drudgery reluctant
flashes of light
hunger for!
up keep, all it is
try as may
tis, life in exile
They have exiled me now from their society and I am pleased, because humanity does not exile except the one whose noble spirit rebels against despotism and oppression. He who does not prefer exile to slavery is not free by any measure of freedom, truth and duty.
Kahlil Gibran in Spirits Rebellious
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be proud of yourself.
Your son is a physician
And the daughter, a musician,
You are proud.
Your brothers and sisters
Are in high position,
You are proud.
Your father is a lawyer
And mother, a singer,
You are proud.
See, none of them
Are proud of you.
In priding you are failing.
15.06.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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La grâce exilée
Va-t-en va-t'en mon arc-en-ciel
Allez-vous-en couleurs charmantes
Cet exil t'est essentiel
Infante aux écharpes changeantes
Et l'arc-en-ciel est exilé
Puisqu'on exile qui l'irise
Mais un drapeau s'est envolé
Prendre ta place au vent de bise
poem by Guillaume Apollinaire
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Home from Exile
Welcome home from exile
A note I wrote in exile
I cant read anymore
I dont even want to think
Of it anymore
Those were my trying days
I try to make up for my lost days
I strived to get to the top
Yet I kept slipping down
People kept trying to bring me down
But I kept fighting to the top.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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Here Pushkin’s Endless Exile Has Begun
Here Pushkin's endless exile has begun,
And Lermontov's exile turned out fatal,
The mountain grass has a smell so sweet and gentle,
And only once I managed to discern,
By the lake under the dense shade of a chinara,
In the early evening and ferocious trice
The glare of insatiable dark eyes
Of the immortal lover of Tamara.
poem by Anna Akhmatova
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From Which They Receive No Substance
How do I feel,
About the escalating disrespect...
Shown to me?
And the pride I have taken,
In priding my identity?
That is a very good question.
And I am glad you asked it of me.
First and foremost...
I am not the one to be traumatized,
By an awakening...
To realize my entire existence,
Has been a hoax!
And that is why I stride with a dignity.
Everything about me that 'appears'?
Is what it is!
And my consciousness,
Has never been sold to be stripped away from it.
Everything about me that 'appears'?
Is what it is!
Others may be here to make excuses for themselves.
And...
Out of mind and feeling out of place to escape from fates.
So unfortunate are the ones who have been 'hoaxed' to live...
Their lives they do not value.
And support themselves...
On a faith that is replaced on a daily basis,
From which they receive no substance.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Swings of Childhood
Into exile
To depth of feeling
To the green paradise
To silence of seasons
To the Old Testament
Wherever you go
Swings of childhood
Will whisper to your soul
Which bets as the rain
Swings of childhood
Will whisper to gulls's hearts
Which bet as dreams
Into exile
To depth of flowers
To outer space
to the bottom of black hole
Everywhere in the universe
My imagination will call you
And we will meet
When swings and gulls meet
poem by Naji Almurisi
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Two Weeks To Exile Day After Tunisia
Two weeks to exile day
after Tunisia saw its veteran
president flee into exile
Egypt capital of the Arab
world's largest country
witnessed extraordinary
scenes heroic tens of thousands
of ordinary Egyptian citizens
demonstrators braved teargas
rubber bullets
baton charges
to vent protests
their dictatorship pent up fury
at repression torture poverty
unemployment corruption dirty
living proof starvation tides
can still martyr dislodge tyrants
can still overcome dictators
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Ode to Aashu
Ode to Aashu
O Ashu, My pen hesitates to record down,
You remain an experience in me to crown.
Those moments of prosperity we shared;
Are cunningly implore me like a mad.
Hands betray me to limit those experiences;
Indeed, it limits to feel the reverence.
Your widowed shelter, pines those blossoming;
I visited once after your knock of returning.
You may encounter millions of events there;
I wish, Be honest to the laments of here?
Remember that elegant statue that often infatuated me;
Gather that bold preview manifested in she.
She could tickle your hesitated desire;
But, never mingle fire with your perspire.
Never measure your silences there; who often mocks at the experience;
Always, treasure the experience that shocks our grievances.
Never betray your cunning there; who often welcomes shinning;
Always shine; even with out light in search of blossoming.
Never feel you are in Exile there, make your exile a hostile,
Always rhyme with your present; forget past events, all puerile.
Of course a taste of Joycian flavor; keep these buds healthy.
“Silence, Exile & Cunning” will make your path to the Acardy
poem by Tuna Biswal
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Exile In Majestic Silence
EXILE IN MAJESTIC SILENCE
esspeecee
# Exile in silence,
Majestic silence
Silence, but not to:
blunt senses.
To sharpen…
be more eloquent…
be greater creative…
inside the within,
and within….
[Silence is golden] #
# ‘No-Entry’ board:
to din and bustle,
to topsy turvy,
One way traffic,
Bubbles of subconscious,
For synthesis / creation.
[Silence is golden] #
# In silence,
I discover:
my dichotomous me:
material me,
subtle me,
soul,
mind.
Enjoy - emancipation,
Identity / Reality
Total nihilism,
Void ness in pan-existence
[Yes! Silences is golden] #
Copyright reserved by the Author
poem by Dr. Sakti P. Chakravorty
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