Mumbo Jumbo
They came from the land of Jumbo,
Crossed the sea in their little boats,
Carried their wives and children here
In anything that would float,
They wanted the sort of freedoms we
Had always had for our own,
Would we be able to squeeze them in
And welcome them into our home?
They brought all their bags and baggage,
A thousand years of despair,
When life had been such a hardship
In the jungles of - 'Out there! '
We offered the hand of friendship,
They took it, and came right in,
Along with their prophet Mumbo
Who they carried right under their skin!
They settled in little pockets,
They kept themselves to their own,
Objected to learning the language that
Was spoken in their new home,
The women were covered from head to foot
And walked three feet behind,
Freedom for them was just a word -
They could search, but couldn't find!
They brought their own witch doctors
And scorned the likes of ours,
They told them we were an evil race
With our wealth, beliefs and powers,
They prayed to the prophet Mumbo
Said his word should be the law,
Ignored the law of the nation that
Had welcomed them to its shore.
They hated our celebrations,
And tried to get us to stop,
And we, like the village idiots
Accepted the culture shock,
We tried so hard to please them,
That we lost what once we had,
The freedom to criticize them
Or their customs, good or bad.
Our laws have turned against us,
We tread on tippy-toe,
We might not like how it's going
But we wouldn't want them to know.
The tension here is building
As our freedoms run like sand,
In this land of Mumbo Jumbo
We may have to make a stand!
8 January 2010
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Straight Talk
Gimme some straight talk, straight talk -- and hold the sugar please
Straight talk, straight talk -- sounds plenty sweet to me
Dont talk to me in circles in some mumbo-jumbo jive
Gimme just straight talk, straight talk and were gonna be alright
cause I like to know just where I stand, I dont like guessing games
And I hate a bunch of gibberish, so just spit it out real plain
Dont use big educated words from your bs degree
Straight talk, straight talk -- dont try b.s.-ing me
Straight talk, straight talk -- turn loose and let it go
You can tell me anything -- just like on oprahs show
Just tell me how you really feel, be on the up and up
With questions I can understand -- for answers you can trust
Pick up the phone, youre not alone -- weve all got something to say
So listen in and listen up -- well find a better way
With honesty and common sense, its really hard to miss
Straight talk, straight talk -- just tellin it like it is
Straight talk, straight talk -- theres nothing like the truth
Just tell me all your troubles -- pretend Im donahue
So dont be shy, cause we can talk -- you know youve got a friend
Call me, call me -- for simple straight talkin
Whats cookin, america?
Straight talk, straight talk
Straight talk, straight talk
So some on lets talk turkey, just straight and to the point
About passions, about problems, about noses out of joint
Now I want you all to know I care and I do understand
And hey, thanks for lending me and ear out there in radioland
Give me some straight talk, straight talk -- dont sugar coat it please
Straight talk, straight talk -- sounds sweet enough to me
But dont talk to me in circles, in your mumbo-jumbo jive
Straight talk, straight talk -- and were gonna be alright
Straight talk, straight talk -- makes plenty sense to me
Dont talk to me in circles, in your mumbo-jumbo jive
Gimme just straight talk, straight talk -- and were gonna be alright
Gimme just straight talk, straight talk -- and were gonna be alright
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Land of the Free (c) 3-29-08
Land of the Free home of the brave
Land of disease home of the slave
Freedom of religion Freedom of speech
Freedom of press and freedom to breach
Freedom to steal freedom to take
Freedom to carry guns and Freedom to break
The laws of the man and the laws of the word
Freedom from peace but to still use the bird
The only home of brave and Land of the Free
The land who rules based off democracy
Freedom to starve and Freedom to be poor
Freedom to break and enter someone’s door
Freedom to lay off workers and close off jobs
Freedom to take what they want and to rob
Freedom of abortion Freedom of extortion
Freedom to own land and give everyone their portion
Freedom for action by any means necessary
But what their picture of that can really be scary
Freedom to wage war without our consent for our hours to be spent
Freedom to take our money then make us pay rent
Land of the prospering riches and of those who don’t care for the
People who live in the FREE old America
Copyright 3-29-08 ©® Corey Threet
PLEASE COMMENT!
poem by Corey Threet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dog Mumbo (a horror story)
Dog Mumbo
lives alone
since his master disappeared
in the corner house
in Suburb Bumbo
Mumbo stands with
his head at the window
paws on the sills
and when Stranger Whoever's
heart is touched
"O that poor thing,
so so sweet"
and comes in to pat the dog
Dog Mumbo invites
Stranger Whoever
to the master's seat
and closes the door;
and when Dog Mumbo turns round
to Stranger Whoever
it's no longer that poor thing,
so so sweet thing
For it goes straight for the heart
And so it lives alone
and feeds itself
same way its Master fed it
And I believe, you discerning reader,
have a name
so remember it well
and do not fancy yourself ever to be
Stranger Whoever
poem by Raj Arumugam
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The Old Women Of The Barangay
i feel quite uncomfortable
to the old women in this barangay
on a mumbo-jumbo of memorized prayers
like a playing tape recorder of those old times
reading a novernario
from page one to twenty.
after then they walk their way back home
from church
talking about other people's lives
condemning, laughing,
and too judgmental
they're happy & contented and sure of their own rooms reserved for them
in heaven.
i envy their own certainties.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Freedom to Do
So many people around me.
The ones I love and the ones I hate.
I have the freedom.
I have the freedom to love.
I have the freedome to hate.
The freedom to care.
The freedom to concern
The freedom to worry
The freedom to be hurt
The freedom to be sad
The freedom to be happy
The freedom to say what i want to say.
All of these freedoms i have.
All of these feelings i have.
You could do anything with your freedom.
Let the chains break.
Spread your wings
And fly away.
Don't let anyone get you down.
Make sure you use your freedoms correctly
You use your feelings and freedoms to make friends and the right choices.
Understand your freedoms and feelings.
We have the freedom to do what our hearts yearn to do.
poem by Natalie Vail
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Whose Freedom?
Freedom, freedom, freedom!
Whose freedom?
My freedom, your freedom, our freedoms;
Like e thousand times of a cry in a land!
Yes, they rule with iron-hand but,
We have to obey always;
A rule with an iron fist but,
We have to be the subjects always;
Whose freedom?
Look around you,
It is full of colours;
My freedom, your freedom, their freedoms!
Freedom, freedom, freedom! ! !
We nedd freedom than these shackles.
Whose freedom?
Free-free-free! Freedom to my people! !
Which people?
My people, your people, our peoples;
Have mercy on them and rule them with care.
We need freedom around us,
Whose freedom?
See the type of governments around you;
The people's freedom with an iron fist!
Tell me if all is well.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Playing The Pokies
I'd be so happy
to make it
juggling the stars
to align with the moon
and the sun
ascendant to Mars
coming together
in a fountain of coins
spilling out of my grin
bigger than Luna Park
it's all mumbo jumbo
but so much fun.
poem by Vince Gullaci
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Late
Because I felt like being hypnotized
I turned the TV on, sat down,
and drank a beer in the dark
and watched all that rigged mumbo-jumbo;
but when I felt like thinking my own thoughts again
I turned the TV off and left
the now blank screen where in
it the belonged dark.
poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Teaching You To Pray
for you to be closer to
God you must learn to
pray every morning and
there is really no need of
any formula or chants
or creeds or novenas
talk to him like he is
your friend, he likes
friends he has already
more of those servants
and slaves and soldiers
and counsels. Befriend
God, that is prayer enough,
no mumbo, no jumbo
dance the mambo
try the limbo-limbo-rock
with his angels and flock
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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True Liberty
The day in which one celebrates, Independence of a union of states,
Independence from powers outside; freedom that was once denied,
The freest nation in this world, a point that others sometimes herald,
Causing many who are weary in heart, to come here for a fresh start.
A day of real joyous celebration, all across this now powerful nation,
As our voices together are raised, with full hearts a nation is praised,
Festive fireworks are always planned, in many cities across this land,
Celebrating what many of us see, as the greatest nation in all history.
Liberty we celebrate by proclamation, extends to all within this nation,
However that liberty extends only, to the borders of this dear country,
Beyond the borders and the sea, the nation’s people may not be free,
When many travel to other lands, freedoms turn into other’s demands.
Demands which turn into bondage, leaving this land of great privilege,
Privileges that others only dream of, as they look to this land we love,
A land that is so blessed by God, many agree, on this day with a nod,
But, forgetting Him most of the year; living so privileged, without fear.
There’s a freedom many don’t know, as their freedoms for them grow,
Liberty, from the bondage of sin, that captivates our land from within,
That freedom which we celebrate, doesn’t free men from Satan’s hate,
As the Devil leads a war against God, all across this land that we trod.
Freedom from such an evil foe, comes only when the Savior we know,
Who left all the Glory of Eternity, coming to earth to set captives free,
The only true freedom on this earth, comes to man, by a spiritual birth,
Through the Liberty in Jesus Christ, when in Him they receive New Life.
(Copyright ©07/2008)
Reflecting On Independence
We have freedom living every day, a liberty no man can take away,
Not the rights, a nation may give, in the land that one may now live,
It is a freedom they cannot herald, a freedom apart from this world,
The freedom Christians speak of, that comes from our Lord above.
Dispensed by The Lord and Creator, to all who come to The Savior,
A freedom in our Lord Jesus Christ, granted to us for all of this life,
Once we accept Christ in our heart, God’s Liberty shall never depart,
When in Christ, you become free; God’s Liberty carries into Eternity.
A nation’s laws we have now learned, by leaders can be overturned,
When by evil, they are driven; to repeal rights men were once given.
Under assault is our Godly Faith, we receive, strictly through Grace,
We see many rights slipping away, as moral laws continue to decay.
Rights established by any nation, lack a firm and Godly Foundation,
The laws built upon shifting sand, in coming days just will not stand,
As the nation faces amoral blight, as immorality then becomes right,
With righteousness all in the past, personal freedom just will not last.
Reflecting on Independence friend, will our Personal Freedoms end?
Here, where our fathers achieved, the liberty, we as citizens received,
It is times like this we are assured, of the Freedom in Christ our Lord,
That no nation can take from us, once in Christ we have put our trust.
(Copyright ©07/2009)
Possessed
Possessed with the idea of love
Romance and ritual hard to discern
Faith is belief in the unseen
Seen is all held mirror to inner eye
Sky above and earth below
No love is pure than the destiny
Not one love but many
Like bee to each flower
Freedom from gallows is naught
Freedom of mind is freedom sweet
All the four freedoms are freedoms more
Freedom to think and imagine too
Freedom of all is freedom of self
23/1/2010
Islamabad
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Today the people from my State of Tennessee would listen to this debate, or even talk about a reference to God on our money or in the Halls of Congress or in our Pledge and say, please, let common sense and logic win the day and prevail versus legal mumbo jumbo.
We found that the most exciting environments, that treated people very well, are also tough as nails. There is no bureaucratic mumbo-jumbo... excellent companies provide two things simultaneously: tough environments and very supportive environments.
quote by Tom Peters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Congo: A Study of the Negro Race
I. THEIR BASIC SAVAGERY
Fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room,
Barrel-house kings, with feet unstable,
Sagged and reeled and pounded on the table,
A deep rolling bass.
Pounded on the table,
Beat an empty barrel with the handle of a broom,
Hard as they were able,
Boom, boom, BOOM,
With a silk umbrella and the handle of a broom,
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, BOOM.
THEN I had religion, THEN I had a vision.
I could not turn from their revel in derision.
THEN I SAW THE CONGO, CREEPING THROUGH THE BLACK,
More deliberate. Solemnly chanted.
CUTTING THROUGH THE FOREST WITH A GOLDEN TRACK.
Then along that riverbank
A thousand miles
Tattooed cannibals danced in files;
Then I heard the boom of the blood-lust song
And a thigh-bone beating on a tin-pan gong.
A rapidly piling climax of speed & racket.
And "BLOOD" screamed the whistles and the fifes of the warriors,
"BLOOD" screamed the skull-faced, lean witch-doctors,
"Whirl ye the deadly voo-doo rattle,
Harry the uplands,
Steal all the cattle,
Rattle-rattle, rattle-rattle,
Bing.
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, BOOM,"
A roaring, epic, rag-time tune
With a philosophic pause.
From the mouth of the Congo
To the Mountains of the Moon.
Death is an Elephant,
Torch-eyed and horrible,
Shrilly and with a heavily accented metre.
Foam-flanked and terrible.
BOOM, steal the pygmies,
BOOM, kill the Arabs,
BOOM, kill the white men,
HOO, HOO, HOO.
Listen to the yell of Leopold's ghost
Like the wind in the chimney.
Burning in Hell for his hand-maimed host.
Hear how the demons chuckle and yell
Cutting his hands off, down in Hell.
Listen to the creepy proclamation,
Blown through the lairs of the forest-nation,
Blown past the white-ants' hill of clay,
Blown past the marsh where the butterflies play: --
"Be careful what you do,
Or Mumbo-Jumbo, God of the Congo,
All the "O" sounds very golden. Heavy accents very heavy. Light accents very light. Last line whispered.
And all of the other
Gods of the Congo,
Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you,
Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you,
Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you."
II. THEIR IRREPRESSIBLE HIGH SPIRITS
Wild crap-shooters with a whoop and a call
Rather shrill and high.
Danced the juba in their gambling-hall
And laughed fit to kill, and shook the town,
And guyed the policemen and laughed them down
With a boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, BOOM.
THEN I SAW THE CONGO, CREEPING THROUGH THE BLACK,
Read exactly as in first section.
CUTTING THROUGH THE FOREST WITH A GOLDEN TRACK.
A negro fairyland swung into view,
Lay emphasis on the delicate ideas. Keep as light-footed as possible.
A minstrel river
Where dreams come true.
The ebony palace soared on high
Through the blossoming trees to the evening sky.
The inlaid porches and casements shone
With gold and ivory and elephant-bone.
And the black crowd laughed till their sides were sore
At the baboon butler in the agate door,
And the well-known tunes of the parrot band
That trilled on the bushes of that magic land.
A troupe of skull-faced witch-men came
With pomposity.
Through the agate doorway in suits of flame,
Yea, long-tailed coats with a gold-leaf crust
And hats that were covered with diamond-dust.
And the crowd in the court gave a whoop and a call
And danced the juba from wall to wall.
But the witch-men suddenly stilled the throng
With a great deliberation & ghostliness.
With a stern cold glare, and a stern old song: --
"Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you." ...
Just then from the doorway, as fat as shotes,
With overwhelming assurance, good cheer, and pomp.
Came the cake-walk princes in their long red coats,
Canes with a brilliant lacquer shine,
And tall silk hats that were red as wine.
And they pranced with their butterfly partners there,
With growing speed and sharply marked dance-rhythm
Coal-black maidens with pearls in their hair,
Knee-skirts trimmed with the jassamine sweet,
And bells on their ankles and little black-feet.
And the couples railed at the chant and the frown
Of the witch-men lean, and laughed them down.
(O rare was the revel, and well worth while
That made those glowering witch-men smile.)
The cake-walk royalty then began
To walk for a cake that was tall as a man
To the tune of "Boomlay, boomlay, BOOM,"
While the witch-men laughed, with a sinister air,
With a touch of negro dialect, and as rapidly as possible toward the end.
And sang with the scalawags prancing there: --
"Walk with care, walk with care,
Or Mumbo-Jumbo, God of the Congo,
And all the other
Gods of the Congo,
Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you.
Beware, beware, walk with care,
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, boom.
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, boom.
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, boom.
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay,
BOOM."
Oh rare was the revel, and well worth while
Slow philosophic calm.
That made those glowering witch-men smile.
III. THE HOPE OF THEIR RELIGION
A good old negro in the slums of the town
Heavy bass. With a literal imitation of camp-meeting racket, and trance.
Preached at a sister for her velvet gown.
Howled at a brother for his low-down ways,
His prowling, guzzling, sneak-thief days.
Beat on the Bible till he wore it out
Starting the jubilee revival shout.
And some had visions, as they stood on chairs,
And sang of Jacob, and the golden stairs,
And they all repented, a thousand strong
From their stupor and savagery and sin and wrong
And slammed with their hymn books till they shook the room
With "glory, glory, glory,"
And "Boom, boom, BOOM."
THEN I SAW THE CONGO, CREEPING THROUGH THE BLACK,
Exactly as in the first section. Begin with terror and power, end with joy.
CUTTING THROUGH THE FOREST WITH A GOLDEN TRACK.
And the gray sky opened like a new-rent veil
And showed the Apostles with their coats of mail.
In bright white steel they were seated round
And their fire-eyes watched where the Congo wound.
And the twelve Apostles, from their thrones on high
Thrilled all the forest with their heavenly cry: --
"Mumbo-Jumbo will die in the jungle;
Sung to the tune of "Hark, ten thousand harps and voices."
Never again will he hoo-doo you,
Never again will he hoo-doo you."
Then along that river, a thousand miles
With growing deliberation and joy.
The vine-snared trees fell down in files.
Pioneer angels cleared the way
For a Congo paradise, for babes at play,
For sacred capitals, for temples clean.
Gone were the skull-faced witch-men lean.
There, where the wild ghost-gods had wailed
In a rather high key -- as delicately as possible.
A million boats of the angels sailed
With oars of silver, and prows of blue
And silken pennants that the sun shone through.
'Twas a land transfigured, 'twas a new creation.
Oh, a singing wind swept the negro nation
And on through the backwoods clearing flew: --
"Mumbo-Jumbo is dead in the jungle.
To the tune of "Hark, ten thousand harps and voices."
Never again will he hoo-doo you.
Never again will he hoo-doo you.
Redeemed were the forests, the beasts and the men,
And only the vulture dared again
By the far, lone mountains of the moon
To cry, in the silence, the Congo tune: --
"Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you,
Dying down into a penetrating, terrified whisper.
"Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you.
Mumbo ... Jumbo ... will ... hoo-doo ... you."
poem by Vachel Lindsay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paper Boats
Day by day I float my paper boats one by one down the running
stream.
In bid black letters I write my name on them and the name of
the village where I live.
I hope that someone in some strange land will find them and
know who I am.
I load my little boats with shiuli flower from our garden, and
hope that these blooms of the dawn will be carried safely to land
in the night.
I launch my paper boats and look up into the sky and see the
little clouds setting thee white bulging sails.
I know not what playmate of mine in the sky sends them down
the air to race with my boats!
When night comes I bury my face in my arms and dream that my
paper boats float on and on under the midnight stars.
The fairies of sleep are sailing in them, and the lading ins
their baskets full of dreams.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Fleeing To Be Free
You lead me so far away from my home
But with you I feel safe, no longer alone
I cant tell what makes me feel this way
Maybe it's the actions or just the words you say
I get lost along the way and you don't let me go
You watch me close, guiding me helping me heal so
I wont look back at what I have done because I know
I walked down some bad streets and I know it shows
These scars do more than mar my skin, so much more
They show others that I too have lost those I adore
I lost to their threats, destroyed my own escape
Didn't want to feel the fear until I knew it was too late
I was trapped in their web, withering away day after day
They saw me as nothing more than a slave, free pay
They searched for me but I know you covered our tracks
Not exactly legal but no one is a saint that's a fact
So when you opened my cage and told me to follow you
I couldn't believe that I could run away, it couldn't be true
But I put my fear behind me and fled from them, hand in hand
Following you when I lost sight, fleeing over sand, sea and land
Now we no longer run because we've found our new home
Found a new freedom and our own world to roam
Just you and me racing through the wooded world
Our feelings no longer passing completely unheard
poem by Rebecca Pepper
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History In The Making
history was in the making on this very day
where Barack Obama became the 44th president of the u.s.a.
for two years he campaigned across this nation of ours
and brought to light, graft and political power.
he brought to light that it was 'time for change'
and this country will never be the same.
he tore down the walls of discrimination
and oppression in this land
and told america it was time to take a stand.
he showed the people that freedom can ring
and made this nation stand up and sing.
no other inauguration in the history of man
could compare to this in our promised land.
the world had been watching every move we make
of that there is no mistake.
and the only thing that this world could see
'was abe lincoln sitting in his chair'
happy faces every where.
the dreams of simple men this day came to life
when the first black president
stood there with his wife.
Lincoln, Kennedy, King, to name just a few
have finally gotten to see their dreams come true.
equality is what we sought
and for equality is what we fought.
this was the dream of this nation
this dream is our salvation
so america we stand with pride
for in this land freedom rides.
poem by Louis Rams
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Merry-Go-Round
Oh how yesterdays carosel still makes me swoon
Dizzying attitudes surround the brass ring
Contrary lessons in the music once played
Up and down-round and round-the circles they sing;
But i walked right back into the middle
Of the carnival of life i had left far behind
Circuitous-ceramic ponies-gold embellished
Flavored with a new kind of rhyme;
The Betty's of those days gone by
Have reinvented their carnie names
Now we have Patricia's and Beverly's
Still ever hungry for the inheritance game;
Oh the carosel-still makes me dizzy
But i am no ambassador to its thrill
Legal mumbo jumbo cannot hold a candle
To the strength of my die hard will;
I am not casting aspersions you know
You chose to run the carosel again in the rain
Ring around the posey was supposed to be fun
But what it has brought are torrents of pain;
So players of the carnival-old and new
Lovers of the long sought brass ring
There is: no over the rainbow for you-
Because this Big Bird has learned how to sing! ;
poem by Theodora Onken
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Temptation
Whos this kid with his mumbo jumbo
Living in air-conditioned limbo
Though they treat him just like a guest
Hes living under threat of arrest
Now that hes finally trying to make some sense
He drinks in self-defense
Give me temptation
The subtle touch of authority will
Take you anytime down to the station
You say that its alright by me
Now youre living with the curse of sophistication
Now that youre shackled up to the rigmarole
With absolute control
I see you lying so wide awake
After Ive given you all that you can take
So for heavens sake
Give me temptation
Still you want to succeed so badly
Finding your life will not be deadly
You tell me you can take it or leave it
Sometimes I think that you really believe it
Youre just itching to break her secret laws
As you go from claws to clause
Give me temptation
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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