If I were to call it black music, that would be untrue. I don't know what that is, unless it would be some African drums or something.
quote by Dexter Gordon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The drums of war are the drums of hunger.
South African proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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First of all, the music that people call Latin or Spanish is really African. So Black people need to get the credit for that.
quote by Carlos Santana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Head The Call
Have you been listening, (Listen to the music)
Have you been sleeping (The sermon's in the music)
(The man standing next to you, he must surely be your brother)
(So brother please) heed the call
(The piper he's still piping)
The magic in the music
(The drummer he's still drumming)
The message in the music
(Sweet song of loving you should be singing)
(So brother please) heed the call
Listen to the music, Listen to the music
(Listen to the music) heed the call
(Listen to the music) heed the call
Heed the call of the music
Heed the call of the music
Heed the call of the music
Heed the call of the music
(It's still early in our morning)
There's still time for singing
Let's not waste our morning
Join in the singing
The outlaw of the midnight
He all too soon comes winging
(So brother please, please) heed the call
(Listen to the music) (Listen to the music) yeah
(Listen to the music) (Listen to the music) oh oh
(Listen to the music) oh oh oh (Listen to the music)
(Listen to the music)
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Priest With A Saxophone
he came, his sword unsheathed
like his forbears in -deed
cutting through thickets of injustice and oppression
he plunged deep into
the hearts and the heart of corruption
he came, a priest in lyrics robe
made an altar of music
he called forth saxophone
horns and drums did his bidding
lyrics, rhythm and harmony were his adornments
imbued with power of music
he cast off cassock of white lily thoughts
and embraced the gourd of black wisdom
necklace of cowries adorned his neck
he pulled down frontiers and fortes
of imperialisms and all isms
he lived Africa
bought and thought Africa
he died African....
poem by Ifedayo Oshin
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Let There Be Rock
In the beginning
Back in nineteen fifty-five
Man didnt know about a rock n roll show
And all that jive
The white man had the smoltz
The black man had the blues
No one knew what they was gonna do
But tchaikovsky had the news
He said -
Let there be light, and there was light
Let there be sound, and there was sound
Let there be drums, and there was drums
Let there be guitar, and there was guitar
Let there be rock
And it came to pass
That rock n roll was born
All across the land every rockin band
Was blowing up a storm
The guitarman got famous
The businessman got rich
And in every bar there was a super star
With a seven year itch
There were fifteen million fingers
Learning how to play
And you could hear the fingers picking
And this is what they had to say
Let there be light
Sound
Drums
Guitar
Let there be rock
One night in a club called 'the shaking hand
There was a ninety-two decibel rocking band
The music was good and the music was loud
And the singer turned and he said to the crowd -
Let there be rock
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am an African
Not because im black.
But because my heart warms
And tears run down my face
When i think about AFRICA.
I am an African,
Not because i live here,
But because the African
Sun lit my paths.
Because the air that i breath
Is from these majestic mountains.
That air nurtured me
Growing up.
I am an African,
Not because i can speak
Swahili, Shona, Zulu or Xhosa.
But because my heart is
Shaped like a question mark,
Just like AFRICA.
I am an African,
Not because i am black,
But because my umbilical cord
Is burried under the majestic
Mountains of AFRICA.
poem by Siyabonga A nxumalo
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Music Paints the World
In every town and city small and large there is a music vibe with its inhabitants
Some music is inspiring, some music is depressing while other music is exciting
Angry music is red as red as blood dripping down your skin
Depressing music is navy blue like rain falling from the sky
Metal music is black as black as the sky
Rap music is a mixture of red, black and yellow. It is sometimes angry, sometimes dark and sometimes happy.
Relaxing music is blue just like the ocean
Happy music is yellow as yellow as the sun
The sound of music vibrantly paints the world
It has done so since the beginning of music and will continue to do so as long as people ordinary and famous keep on listening to music and performing music.
poem by Emily Krauss
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I Love The African Woman
I Love The African Woman
I love the African woman
Her golden eyes
Burnt by smoke yet remained pure
Her black hair
Burdened by loads yet remained long
I love the African woman
Her dark lips
Kissed and chewed by men, Black and White
Yet remained full and thick
Her tender breast
Fondled by hands, smooth and callous
Yet remained firm and tall
At her back great men slept
On her laps heroes were nursed
At the meeting of her thighs all men dream
Her feet, hardened and bruised
Yet she keep moving
With pride
With dignity
I love her African heart
I love her African passion
I love the African woman
poem by Joseph Eli Atisu
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angola the African dream
Angola, the African Dream.
A box of photos, black & white and amber, under the old woman’s
bed, tell of young faces and success. Cars drive up and down
an avenue called Liberty. Angola, even the most humble state
functionary had a black servant. And the white people were deaf
to the dark voices of independence.
The Portuguese settlers had been promised a land of plenty, and
the local people would be their willing serfs. Foreign legion soldiers
helped them flee the wrath of the exploited. Back in Portugal again,
dipping their hands in manual work, the African dream was over.
Photos never tell a story it’s a blank canvas made up of shadows
and the unspoken. Memories will be sweet and often untrue.
People who had to return back to poverty, will insist they brought
civilization to Angola, especially now that the avenue of Liberty,
in Luanda, is potholed.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Tiger Man
(words & music by lewis - burns)
I am the king of the jungle
They call me the tiger man
I am the king of the jungle
They call me tiger man
If you cross my path
You take your own life in your hands
Yeah, I get up on a mountain
And I call my black cat back
Yeah, I get up on a mountain
And I call my black cat back
My black cat comes a runnin
And the hound dogs get way back
Yeah, I get up on a mountain
And I call my black cat back
Yeah, I get up on a mountain
And I call my black cat back
My black cat comes a runnin
And the hound dogs get way back
Yeah, I get up on a mountain
And I call my black cat back
Yeah, I get up on a mountain
And I call my black cat back
My black cat comes a runnin
And the hound dogs get way back
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If You Had My Love[Dark Child Master Mix]
If you had my love
And I gave you all my trust
Would you comfort me? heeeeeeeey
And if somehow you knew
That your love would be untrue
Would you lie to me
And call me baby?
Now if I give you me
This is how its got to be:
First of all, I wont take you cheatin on me
Tell me who can I trust
If I cant trust in you
And I refuse to let you play me for a fool
You said that we
Could possibly
Spend eternity
(see thats what you told me; thats what you said)
But if you want me
You have to be
Fulfilling all my dreams
(if you really want me, babe)
If you had my love
And I gave you all my trust
Would you comfort me?
And if somehow you knew
That your love would be untrue
Would you lie to me
And call me baby?
Said you want my love
And youve got to have it all
But first there are some things you need to know
If you want to live
With all I have to give
I need to feel true love or its got to end, yeah
I dont want you
Tryin to get with me
And I end up unhappy
(I dont need the hurt and I dont need the pain)
So before I do
Give myself to you
I have to know the truth
(if I spend my life with you)
If you had my love
And I gave you all my trust
Would you comfort me?
And if somehow you knew
That your love would be untrue
Would you lie to me
And call me baby? ...(repeat)
song performed by by Jennifer Lopez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dr Worm
They call me Dr. Worm,
Good morning, how are you? I'm Dr. Worm.
I'm interested in things,
I'm not a real doctor but I am a real worm,
I am an actual worm,
I live like a worm.
I like to play the drums.
I think I'm getting good, but I can handle criticism.
I'll show you what I know and you can
Tell me if you think I'm getting better on the drums
I'll leave the front unlocked 'cause I can't
Hear the doorbell...
When I get into it, I can't tell if you are
Watching me twirling the stick.
When I give the signal, my friend
Rabbi Vole will play the solo...
Someday, somebody else besides me will
Call me by my stage name, they will
Call me Dr. Worm,
Good morning, how are you? I'm Dr. Worm.
I'm interested in things.
I'm not a real doctor but I am a real worm,
I am an actual worm,
I live like a worm.
And I like to play the drums,
I think I'm getting good, but I can handle criticism.
I'll show you what I know and you can
Tell me if you think I'm getting better on the drums.
I'm not a real doctor, but they call me
Dr. Worm!
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Doctor Worm
They call me dr. worm.
Good morning. how are you? Im dr. worm.
Im interested in things.
Im not a real doctor,
But I am a real worm;
I am an actual worm.
I live like a worm.
I like to play the drums.
I think Im getting good,
But I can handle criticism.
Ill show you what I know,
And you can tell me if you think Im getting better on the drums.
Ill leave the front un-locked cause I cant
Hear the doorbell
When I get into it I cant tell if you are
Watching me twirling the stick.
When I give the signal, my friend
Rabbi vole will play the solo
Some day somebody else besides me will
Call me by my stage name, they will
Call me dr worm.
Good morning how are you, Im dr worm
Im interested in things.
Im not a real doctor,
But I am a real worm;
I am an actual worm.
I live like a worm.
I like to play the drums.
I think Im getting good,
But I can handle criticism.
Ill show you what I know,
And you can tell me if you think Im getting better on the drums.
Im not a real doctor,
But they call me dr. worm.
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The African Women (For T-Y Bello)
Each time I think
of the African woman,
I search for your pix
In the chip of my memory.
The African woman,
Her eyes radiant like
a young lover
so blazing a pupil
planted among white surrounds
The African women
is blessed with a soft smile
her dentations are like the
vertical bars of a police sergeant - major
The African woman,
her touch break barriers
the smell of her hair is like
the aroma of frankincense.
The African woman
has the warmest of embrace
stay black my little
Pumpkin.
poem by Matthias Pantaleon
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That tone of Music
That tone of dogs:
Is the one that turn her! ! !
Make her the legend of Africa
That made her the best of the best
That gives her the name “Mama Africa”
That made her think of tomorrow.
That tone of bird:
Made her tune on the radio
That made her say “I’m a Diva”
Made her say “I’m a weekend special”
That turns her to Brenda.
That tone of lion:
Made her the Lionel
Made her say “I’m African Madonna”
That made her sing “I’m Dangerous”
That made her the Drama Queen
That tone of music:
That made us proud
To say “I’m an African”
And made us walk free in that Island
And say “I’m proud of African music”
That tone of music, that says with small voices
Made me not take that plane to U.S.A
Made me stay in R.S.A
Made me forget about the past
Make me listen to music
That help that build, that changes, that ragtime
Made me who am I today?
poem by Happy Mhlongo
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African Sunrise
This song was first released on the dreamland express album. it is the only album it has been released on.
African sunrise, shine on a brand new day
African sunrise, show us a brand new way
Give us a brand new morning
Show us forever beginning to stand on our own
African sunrise, smile on my african home
In this hour of quiet contemplation
The stillness of the dawning calms my mind
I face the day with heartfelt exaltation
The light is both a promise and a sign
In the darkness we have lost the son of our sister
Though the beauty of his spirit lingers still
This was a child of love, a child of laughter
Who cannot understand the way I feel
Is it not the sun that gives the seasons
Is it not the sun that brings the rain
Our throats are choled with dust, but were still singing
Our song will not be silenced by the rain
All around the village I could hear the roosters crowing
There was a time it was like music to my ears
Now all I can hear is the sound of hungry babies crying
I pray for rain to wash away their tears
African sunrise, light of a brand new day
African sunrise, light of a brand new way
With one who will be our brother
And one who will be our partner and teach us to know
African sunrise, smile on my african home
African sunrise.....
African sunrise.....
Words and music by john denver
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Land of Music
I come from a land of music
the drums of Africa beat in my ears
the chorus of Europe ringing in the air
the decibels are everlasting
the flutes of Asia so sweet sounding
I come from a land of music
the music is life and afterlife
if music is gone there is no point
no point in living, every thing
everything you know is done, gone, no more.
I come from the land of music, music is my life.
poem by Jessi Fujisaki
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I always tell people that to be the funny person in a Steve Martin movie is like getting a call that Keith Moon wants you to play drums on his record. He should be playing drums on his record.
quote by Jason Schwartzman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't beat the drums of war unless you're ready to fight.
An African writer
I am an african writer
with the melodious lyric
flowing rivers of endless music
with words filled banks
of rhythmic juice
I am an african writer
the flower with the sweetest nectar
colourful juices of flowing oceans
oceans of endless streams
I am an african writer
dwelling by the shrine
in earnest worship to the gods of poetry
invoking my elders before me
warlord of the verbal war
I am an african writer
born with a pot of words
Caressed with the river of the niger
And burnt with the power of endless chatter
I am an african writer
With dead digits and ancient inks
Torn sheets with flee bugs
bestow to a journey of endless music
And beautiful heritage
I am an african writer!
Forged with letters and blood of lines
Strange eyes to a stories side
And rewarded with the gift of true sight!
poem by Venessa Ambrose
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