In spite of holidays when I was free to visit London theatres and explore the countryside, I spent four very miserable years as a colonial at an English school.
quote by Patrick White
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summer holidays
The greatest time of the year
Summer holidays
Much freedom and a pint of beer
Summer holidays
Just do what you want
There’s no need to pant
Just have some fun with your friends
Summer holidays
You got even time to watch the ants
Summer holidays
Don’t ever dare to think of school
Summer holidays have no rules
Meet friends, have fun or just chill out
Buy milk, go swim or eat an ice upon a roundabout
You understand what they are like?
Summer holidays are the time of your life!
poem by Kevin Deckert
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Where The Wannon Waters Flow
To the flat and old brown Countryside the Seasons come and go
But she lives far so very far from where the Wannon waters flow
Through places to her familiar on it's journey to the sea
Through a Land that was even old in the Dreamtime of an ancient history.
Through the busy streets of London cars and trucks buzz up and down
And she now lives far so very far north of Hamilton Town
She left the Southern Grampians Shire some seven years ago
And her journeys have taken her far from where the Wannon waters flow.
Now in her twenty seventh year one can say in her life's prime
And seven years go quickly when one looks back in time
But to her parents home near Hamilton she will return next Spring
When the magpie flutes his finest and the grey shrike thrush does sing
On the gum trees by her old home at the dawning of the day
In the far southern Countryside from London far away
When the wild bush flowers are blooming and in the moonlit sky
The breeding spur wing plovers utter their territorial cry.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Boor Play
Every holiday
I was
Happy about...
My school life...
All holidays
Are not festvel
But..
I was happy about
Holidays...
School was very boor...
I was read story books...
Play some gams...
Think some more thing...
So...
I love and love
Holidays...
Today also
I love the holidays
For play...
For write...
For thing...
For love...
So...
My life is not boor...
My job is not boor...
Some time my mood
Boor...
I love and play boor...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Summer Holidays
Holidays are such fun
So much to do for everyone
A cliff to climb a sea to surf
A game of golf upon the turf
Some stay at home, some go away
It doesn’t matter where you stray
Your time’s your own, no jobs to do
Perhaps a visit to the zoo
The children ride upon their bikes
While others choose to take a hike
In countryside so fresh and green
Perhaps a paddle in the stream
Sometimes the sun sometimes the rain
The main thing is that you stay sane
And treasure all the hours together
Having fun whatever the weather.
poem by Jean Sheridan
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London
New York winter
Traffic squeals
The city feels...so old
Late December
Taxi ride
Then run inside
It's cold
Got your letter Monday
I think
Or Tuesday
I lose track
Since then I've been thinking of you
And I've been
Looking back to
London
Can you believe it's
So many years since
London
Hitching a ride and
Carrying knapsacks
London
In the park
By the Thames
Drinking tea
London
Sitting in pubs and
Living in walk-ups
London
Learning the accent
Learnin' to love you
London
We were young
We we sure
We were...free
Was it really ages
Ago
The memories
Never fade
Can you hear Big Ben where
You are
And are you
Glad you stayed in
London
Dodging the rain with
Broken umbrellas
London
Reading the times
On Saturday picnics
London
Counting the stars,
'Till the stars
All were gone
London
So many plans and
Nothing but time in
London
Nothing to fear 'cause
Nothing could last in
London
We grew close
We grew scared
I moved on
Oh London
What were we scared of
Why did I run from
London
Part of me still has
Never come back from
London
Is it fair
That I miss
You so much
Take good care
All my love
Keep in touch
New York winter
Taxi ride
Then run inside
It's cold
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Are Those Exceptions
Many have spent lifetimes,
Doing their best...
To manipulate the presence of truth.
And yet there is not one shred of proof,
That a doing of this has led them to success.
However...
There are those exceptions!
Millions of dollars are spent,
In the celebrating of holidays created...
To allow the threats of terrorists,
Opportunities to rest...
As everyone is welcomed to join the festivities.
'But...
Where are the terrorists? '
~Ssshhh.
They are no threat to us on holidays.
Or on weekends.
Just Monday through Friday.
See them checking their watches?
It is almost that time,
For them to begin their threats.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A strange farm girl
She smiled with the old farmer's son
And he thinks that she's different from others.
The way she holds the sickle
And her talking manner too.
After the harvest festival
She's not to be seen anymore and the farm boy is sad.
''She's with her far relative here
On her school holidays and then back to school.'
His inquisitive widowed sister told.
She helped to the Harvest and not only that
And she's stolen the boy's mild heart.
How many school holidays have passed?
And the usual harvest never stopped.
The farm boy has taken
His deceased father's burden
And like a nonentity he just walks towards the barn!
* 'There are times when silence has the loudest voice.' -Leroy Brownlow
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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London
We came from the far North
summered in Crimea
deserted the armed forces
had to disappear
made it to the free West
on a chartered flight
so we could see what
we trained to fight
We were in London
"Let's do it - let's break the law!"
We were in London
Tell it like it is
We were in London
Tell it like it is
Looking for hard work
or credit card fraud
What do you expect from us?
We come from abroad
to get ourselves a new job
on a building-site
They work you so hard
but we trained to fight
We were in London
"Let's do it - let's break the law!"
We were in London
Tell it like it is
We were in London
"Let's do it - let's break the law!"
We were in London
Tell it like it is
My father fought in Afghanistan
His widow's pension ain't worth a damn
My mother works and goes home to cry
I want to live before I die
We were in London
"Let's do it - let's break the law!"
We were in London
Tell it like it is
We were in London
Tell it like it is
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Weird At My School
1-2-3-4
My father lives in arabia
And I live right here at my school
I took his plane to columbia
So I could sail at my school(? ) *
Its weird at my school
Weird at my school(3x)
My mothers glad that I am here
So she can visit my school
I cant believe shes so pretty
Im a son of a bitch at my school
Weird at my school(4x)
And my best friend, my cousin eleanor
She lives far away from the doors of my school
And often times, you know I fantasize
That I have sex with the nuns at my school
Its weird at my school
Weird at my school(7x)
(transcribed by moses boole)
* : or so I could sell at my school (according to rhys henry mason)
song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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London Pool
London Pool's in London town,
Ay, boys! O boys!
London Pool's in London town,
Where the great ships anchor down!
O to shake the canvas free,
Hear the cordage cheerily
Whistling to the open sea
Down from London Pool, O!
London Pool's a crowded place,
Ay, boys! O boys!
London Pool's a crowded place,
Crafts and crews of every race!
O to hear the clanking chain
Trail along the wharf again, -
Hear the tautening ropes astrain
Down from London Pool, O!
London Pool's a gallant sight,
Ay, boys! O boys!
London Pool's a gallant sight,
Toil by day and glare by night!
O to shake our heels and go, -
Feel the four free winds ablow,
Hail the lights of long ago
Down from London Pool, O!
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
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Goodbye London
GOODBYE LONDON
I hear the whispers of London in my ears,
London! London! is how the birds sing,
oh, i love the english bus ride and the ancient buildings,
where the trees and the animals can stop dancing,
If men where horses, hopes will vanish in wheelchair,
Oh, I feel like enjoying in the queens empire of riches,
where the love the love of english beer won't stop flowing in my lips,
I know why I still dreams of cheese and the humpty-dumpty children will fly like wizards,
Oh, I remember the window of gossips of the old women,
I know why the london bridge wears a crown,
Oh, I never want to say goodbye to the land of the colonies,
where the beauty of flowers can stop milking,
where the voice of flute can stop roaring into the air,
where everyones fall in love with the empires,
And if you're searching for the crystal ball of snow,
London is where honey 's clock keep alarming,
Goodbye london of the Amazones of green light.
Yomi-Habib.
poem by Abayomi Habib
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Hiking to Durban
We wanted to be free
from the discipline
of boarding school
and catch a lift all the way,
to Durban at the sea.
What a life it would be
with bikini girls on the beach
and totally out of reach
of the head master’s cane
and we would visit every shop
and meet girls on the street
and spend every sent
without having to pay for rent.
The beach would be the place
to sleep and tan and surf
and to spent,
the rest of the summer
as a place of fun.
We packed our bags
and left our school uniforms behind,
but what a calamity
when the first car that stopped
opened its doors wide
and the principal was inside.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Though I won the race?
Juror panel refused to offer me the trophy
And they questioned;
'How an Eastern donkey
Joined the English steeplechase? '
Then I said politely;
'Sir/Madam I am your colonial friend
And I have already jumped from your English cradle in my fading dreams! '
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Holidays Are For Those Not Alone
THE HOLIDAYS ARE FOR THOSE NOT ALONE
The holidays are for those not alone-
For the alone the holidays rub in the pain
Everyone else has someone who cares-
For the alone
There is no one and nothing-
Only greater envy and sadness and sense of loss-
For the alone
There are no holidays
Only special days of pain and more hurt.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Sad Holidays
The holidays are getting near
Bringing most people great cheer
These days bring back pain from the dead
The holidays I always have to dread
Thinking back through the many years
Trying to be happy, holding back the tears
Getting through life one day at a time
Out of the darkness I must climb
I can't live in the pain from the past
Please let it be over, don't let it last
I love the warmth from the summer sun
So let this time of year be done
I like the green grass and flowers in bloom
They make me happiest, instead of this gloom
So hurry up summer and come back around
And I won't be sad, happiness I'd have found
I have a good life and what's wrong with me
When the holidays come, I can't feel free!
poem by Donna Nimmo
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The Boys And Girls I Went To School With
The boys and girls I went to school with from me now far away
And even some of them not living now where the dead are they lay
And in distant flights of fancy I fancy I see them yet
And them I still remember and them I won't forget.
The boys and girls I went to school with the years have left them slow
And were I to meet them on the street perhaps them I''d not know
For the years they leave us looking older and there''s no turning back the hands of time
And those I went to school with like me now long past their prime.
Many of the boys and girls I went to school with live distant from Millstreet
And we well might be strangers now if by chance we did meet
In my mental pictures of them they have not aged a day
But reality is different and 'tis always been that way.
Many of the boys and girls I went to school with in Millstreet our Home -town
Have left that green old countryside where Finnow babbles down
For to join with the great Blackwater on it''s journey to the sea
Still their innocence and youthfulness will always be with me.
The changes keep on happening and nothing seems to last
Still we cling on to our memories and we can''t deny our past
And though we may now be strangers were we to meet again
The boys and girls I went to school with young in my thoughts remain.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Edu-mac-cation
‘EDU-MAC-CATION’
I am going back to school to finish my education
Something, I should have done forty years ago
Will I succeed this time around?
Oh dear, I very much hope so
I have tried several times before
Somehow, I always failed
Couldn’t concentrate, hadn’t the patience
Think it’s time I got it nailed
GCSE’s in Maths and English
I have to follow those paths
Not so bad at English
Bloody useless at Maths
That was when I was in school
All of forty years ago
I was jack the lad back then
Now I really want to know
I know it has been coined before
Now, I believe it to be the truth
What some clever person said
Education is wasted on the youth
MICMAC
poem by Michael Micmac Mccrory
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Countryside
Be fast
To visit the countryside
Which
In few years
You will not find.
In memories
Carry
Breathtaking sites
Viewing for hours
New things find
Silence and
Purity all around
Nourish
The body and the mind.
poem by Sanjay Mehta
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But I spent just two calendar years at Cornell University, though it was covering more than three years of work, and then went to medical school and did become interested in psychiatry, and even helped form a kind of psychiatry club in medical school.
quote by Robert Jay Lifton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So I went to English school, secondary English school, so forget going to Mecca for my religious education.
quote by Abdullah Ahmad Badawi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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