Lands II
I was riding the track to your mother’s lands
And the donkey was growing tired
I came to a camp by the falling day
And sat by the fireside
The black pot was cooking between the smoke
And the men were collecting wood
The split of the branches called into the night
As the women bent over the food
I asked what it was they stirred in the pot
That drew the little dogs so near
The meat was left over from a wedding feast
The corn was brought in by the bride that year
They said, our daughters have left the land
Our children are scarcer than rain
The youngest is married to an Englishman
(And that life seemed so near again)
The lands were empty when I came next day
Your boy and your brother were gone
I drank from the gourds and lit the lamp
And waited for you and the dawn
I woke to the sound of a 4-wheel drive
Pulling a harvester along the track
So I took to the donkey and left you a note
Wondering if we would ever come back.
poem by Frank Bana
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Related quotes
Pepe Pepeto
Pepe Pepeto was a littlr Mexican boy who lived on a farm
One day, he was collecting wood on the moutain side for use on the farm
He and his father heard a braying
It was a small donkey caught in a bush and braying
Pepe's father took the donkey out of the bush
And Pepe said to the donkey, 'Hush'
Pepe asked his father if he could have the donkey
Pepe's father said, 'Si, Pepe, you can have the donkey'
Pepe was so happy now with his donkey
He called the name 'Manuel' for his donkey
May 13,2006, Clarence A. Graham, Jr.
poem by Jr. Clarence A. Graham
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Time Now For The Donkey Dance
it’s time now
let’s all do the donkey dance
it’s time now
for intelligence to carry the donkey
that’s the way
each one of you carry a donkey
for the donkey is tired of its burden
and now it’s your turn
a throne for the donkeys
each intelligence must be
so now
carry the donkey
each one of you
and me - of course, me too
and let’s do the donkey dance
left right
left right
hee haw haw hee
and side and round
and turn
hee haw haw hee
come dance all intelligent beings
this is the dance ever since earth’s first been
the dance of the donkeys
borne on our backs
by you, me and every other human being
the ancient dance of the donkeys
left right
left right
hee haw haw hee
and side and round
and turn
hee haw haw hee
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Donkey Tonkey
Do the donkey, donkey, tonkey
Do the donkey, donkey, tonkey
Do the donkey, donkey, tonkey
Donkey tonkey people
Spero, che fai l'asino sul serio per un po'
E se fai il ballo dell'asino, io ci sto
Xch le tue parole, sembrino raggi di sole (oh)
E per ricordarti, di dimenticare
Do the donkey, donkey, tonkey
Do the donkey, donkey, tonkey
Do the donkey, donkey, tonkey
Donkey tonkey people
Ora, gi in citt, c' una blue crayola
di cioccolata ya e si chiama Lola
Xch i tuoi occhi adesso sembrino raggi di sole (oh)
Chiameremo felicit, la disperazione.
Do the donkey, donkey, tonkey
Do the donkey, donkey, tonkey
Do the donkey, donkey, tonkey
Donkey tonkey people
Uh na na na, voglio bere
Uh na na na, bere te
Uh na na na, e la tua bocca di miele
Uh na na na, bere te
Do the donkey, donkey, tonkey
Do the donkey, donkey, tonkey
Do the donkey, donkey, tonkey
Do the donkey people
Do the donkey people
Do the donkey people
Do the donkey people
Uh na na na, voglio bere
Uh na na na, bere te
Uh na na na, e la tua luna di fiele
Uh na na na, bere te
Do the donkey, donkey, donkey
Do the donkey, donkey, donkey
Do the donkey, donkey, tonkey
Do the donkey people
Do the donkey people
Do the donkey people
Do the donkey people
song performed by by Zucchero
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Last Donkey
I am gathering laurels
to crown the last donkey
in my town
It is the only donkey which
thinks that soon i will be having
the heydays of my
writing career
I will have this donkey paraded in town
To be cheered by all the nitwits and nincompoops
And then the feast at home begins
All menu based on donkey meat.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Wedding Day
The Ice Queen, as everyone knows is my mother
a year after I left the Ice Queens dugeon I met
someonewe decided to get married.
I did not want to, but a invitation was to her.
THE ROYAL ICE QUEEN
MOTHER
r.s.v.p. stated will be able
I had been brought up in the
Catholic Church.
I had not been going to church.
So I felt like I did not have the right
to ask the church to bless
my marriage.
I would not experience the joy
my two sisters had.
Holding my fathers arm and walking
to the man I loved.
I would never have the memories of
hearing the words ''Who gives
this woman''?
And to hear my fathers answer,
'' I DO''
He was not there, the minute
I became a new wife.
He'd missed the most important
day in my life.
I know he did not do this by
his choice.
'' IT CAME FROM THE
ROYAL ICE QUEEN MOTHER''
herself.
My two older sisters had
beautiful church wedding.
My twin brother, brought
is then unborn son to his
formal wedding.
They were formal weddings
Gowns and Tucks.
All the silver trays
were pulled out for theirs.
The bar, was free you didn't
have to pay.
I love my sibling.
But why couldn't the
THE ROYAL ICE
QUEEN MOTHER
attend her youngest daughters,
little informal wedding?
But my little informal
wedding in that little
brown stone church
went on
.
It was a very beautiful
wedding.
on that very cold winter
night.
This all happened thirty
five years ago
We go each February
seventeenth.
We stand on the steps
and kiss and hug.
This has had happened for the
last thirty five years.
NO THANKS TO THE
ROYAL ICE QUEEN
MOTHER''
herself.
poem by Gayle Anne Goff
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Shake You Donkey Up
Here he come again
Dress in all that skin
Like he was still human being
Look at he long ears
And he big brown eyes
And with them truth he is seeing
Isnt it a shame you kicked that girl
Isnt it a shame she kicked you back, jackass
She really shake you donkey up
She really make you donkey up
She really shake you donkey up, quite a packet
How she carry you
Over thick and thin ice
You still dug you spurs in
Now you forced to walk
Laden down with shame
Its not just you back thats hurting
Now children saddle him for riding
Pick a fight with love and she will
Tan your hide in
She really shake you donkey up
She really shake you donkey up
Shake you donkey!
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A donkey, who jealous of horses
was dreaming of heavenly forces.
But the Gods were not buying
though the donkey was crying,
he was left with his donkey resources.
quote by by Herbert Nehrlich
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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An Old Donkey For Sale
'A donkey for sale' the old man cried
And the crowd went to see the donkey.
It was as old as he - the crowd felt.
'An old donkey for sale ' the old man still cried-
But no new crowd was there to see it.
An odd man came enquiring all the way
'Where can I get an old donkey for myself? '
Then he heard the old man cry 'An old donkey for sale'
And the odd man rushed to him and his donkey.
But he said to the old man, ' The donkey isn`t really old'.
The old man and his donkey are still treading the paths,
The crowds still find the donkey and the man old alike.
The odd man never stops his search for an old donkey.
But a world never emerges at all -
That one can understand the diametrical human minds.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Lightnin Hopkins
When I lay myself to sleep pray that I dont go too deep
Lightnin won lightnin won
Because its cold down gold down there, crow!
Flat lands low lands on the track
Shows the water pan the track
Lightnin won lightnin won
Close up hands to silhouette, crow!
Lightnin won, lightnin won
Hound bark on the track
Hound crow hold onto your hat
Lightnin won lightnin won
Low lands timberlands bad lands bird lands
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bit News
Donkey milk
Is...
Good for health...
This thinking for
South indian poeple's...
So...
New born baby
Given for donkey's milk...
I also drink for
Donkey milk at childhood...
My gran mother told for me...!
Donkey milk is for
Only at donkey...
But...
People idea is...
Donkey's milk is how is
Help full for human health...?
I don't no...!
Miss or mrs univers
Celeo patra also
Take bath for
Donkey's milk...
For his beauty...
It history bit news
How much true
I don't no...!
You know...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Smoke Along The Track
(alan rose)
One day the train was passin
I caught it comin by
To look this old world over under gods blue sky
My darlin stood there weepin as I was looking back
I kissed my baby cryin in the smoke along the track
Goodbye so long until I come back home
Youll be my dream
Goodbye so long, theres lots of places that Ive never seen
Ill always be a drifter but Ill be driftin back
To where I left you cryin in the smoke along the track
I like to keep on goin it helps me when Im blue
I get the urge to travel thats all I want to do
I just cant settle down because I like to roam
And when I hear that whistle blow Ive gotta move along
Goodbye so long theres something down the track keeps callin me
Goodbye so long I guess thats just the way Ill always be
So when I get that feelin dont try to hold me back
Id only leave you crying in that smoke along the track
I know my baby loves me I love my baby too
But he dont understand me when Im feelin blue
And when I hear that whistle blow, I hurry home and pack
And leave my baby cryin in the smoke along the track.
Goodbye, so long, I hate to leave you, but Ive got to go
Goodbye, so long, its coming down just hear that whistle blow
Itll be here in a minute, youll wave and Ill look back
Im gonna leave you cryin in the smoke along the track.
Goodbye so long until I come back home
Youll be my dream
Goodbye so long, theres lots of places that Ive never seen
Ill always be a drifter but Ill be driftin back
To where I left you cryin in the smoke along the track
To where I left you cryin in the smoke along the track
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Gardener LXIV: I Spent My Day
I spent my day on the scorching
hot dust of the road.
Now, in the cool of the evening, I
knock at the door of the inn. It is
deserted and in ruins.
A grim ashath tree spreads its
hungry clutching roots through the
gaping fissures of the walls.
Days have been when wayfarers
came here to wash their weary feet.
They spread their mats in the
courtyard in the dim light of the
early moon, and sat and talked of
strange lands.
They woke refreshed in the morning
when birds made them glad, and
friendly flowers nodded their heads
at them from the wayside.
But no lighted lamp awaited me
when I came here.
The black smudges of smoke left by
many a forgotten evening lamp stare,
like blind eyes, from the wall.
Fireflies flit in the bush near the
dried-up pond, and bamboo branches
fling their shadows on the grass-
grown path.
I am the guest of no one at the end
of my day.
The long night is before me, and I
am tired.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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The Place Of My Birth No Longer Recognize Me
the land where i was born
mother tells me
is a land of mud and rain
they always go together and cause
the coming of each other
once when i have already
learned to talk and walk
we visited it
there were trees then
and some canals and fields of
green, ricefields and patches
of potato gardens and corn
and cassava
the men there are thin and the
women bent and mishapen
and they always complain
that they are hopeless
with sick children
they wanted to move
to our place where father
has prospered
there were no compromises
no transfers and no promises
we left all of them
towards our own home
and then there was this war
and many were killed
we read that on the news
and heard it from relatives
and then i become a man
and in peace visited the place
of my birth
the place has changed
everything is barren and burned
and there are no children
and women
either they died and buried
on shallow grounds
or they left somewhere else
for good
those hopeless men
i remember the dead trees
and tell them my name
who my mother was
it is sad the place of my birth
no longer recognizes me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Strange Mule's lovers
Nature does miracles
the mule is the offspring
of a horse and a donkey.
But she cannot run like a horse
and very stubborn not like a donkey.
Because of her rare beauty
different colored stallions and ponies
rush to see her on and off
from foreign lands.
Her parents are bit worried
as the fence is not strong enough.
She listens one rainy night
mother tells her father
in their bed room
'she must be like us honey
don't forget our past
my lovable run away horse'.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Donkey, Dog and Master – a very gentle fable
Come, listen all -
listen to a very gentle fable
Of Donkey, Dog and Man
and the friendship
amongst these three
1
Donkey and Dog are loyal servants;
they’ve served the same master
all their lives
It’s night now and
Donkey and Dog sleep
in the courtyard
while Master
snores in the house
A thief sneaks in
through the gate
and donkey whispers
as gently as he can:
Hey, dog…There’s an intruder;
Why don’t you bark and let master know?
And the old Dog growls as
quietly as he can:
Why don’t you bray aloud
and raise the alarm?
Hey, but you’re the dog
and you’re man’s best friend,
Donkey whispers in the dark
Man’s best friend, eh?
says Dog.
But is man the dog’s best friend?
I’ve served the master for ages
and now that I’m old he neglects me
and is talking about taking another dog.
I bet he’ll have you skinned alive
when you’re dead!
To the dogs with him!
You bray if you like.
2
Oh I’ve never seen
a more ungrateful being,
Donkey says.
Master is the best
and though he treats
us harsh
it’s all for our own good.
But your ingratitude offends me
and for the sake of decency and justice
and for all the values I hold dear
I shall have to do
a watchdog’s duty instead.
And with that
the donkey brays aloud
and the cacophony is heard
in all the village
and the thief runs away as quickly as he can;
and the master comes running out with a huge stick
and seeing the donkey braying madly
with no cause but its own stupidity
the master beats the donkey well and proper
till all his own hands ache
and he goes back to bed
And now Dog and Donkey
lie down again together
in the courtyard
and Dog says to the quiet Donkey:
Looks like you just found out
how it feels to be man’s best friend!
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Listening to every Tom, Dick and Donkey
Come, we have a story, said the Old Man. Come, sit and I shall tell you all a little tale of a donkey, a boy and his father…and of strangers too…and many a busybody…
And the children sat round the campfire and the Old Man began his tale…
One day
(and this is many, many
uncountable days ago)
Father called Son
and he said:
‘Son
you are grown now
into a fine young lad
and you must learn
how to buy and sell
and make a profit
‘So, come let us go
you and I
to the market to see
what silver coins we can get
for this old donkey
in our shed’
2
And so Son and Dad
set out for the town market
across the sandy and rocky miles
and some way off
Dad grew tired and he said:
‘Ah, Son
this walk tires me and so
I shall ride the donkey
while you walk by the side;
so, come let us go
you and I
to the market to see
what silver coins we can get
for this old donkey
that I shall ride’
3
‘Ho, ho!
What do we have here? ’
came a voice
as the Dad sat riding the donkey
while the Son walked by the side
‘A cruel father you are, ’
said the Family Standards Officer
‘Get down, you grown man
and let the child ride! ’
And the Father was ashamed
and so he let the Son ride the donkey
and he walked beside
And the Family Standards Officer
was extremely pleased
and he filled up his forms
and he bade the Father and Son safe journey:
‘Ah, this is another
success story
of the Family Welfare Dept
where conscience has won the day
and the Son rides the donkey
and the Father walks beside’
4
A nd the Father and Son are gone but a mile, a mile - when another interruption came their way, heading straight their way….
‘What do we have here? ’
came a scream
and the Mandarin of the
State Morals Education
stopped the trio
and the Mandarin glared disapprovingly
at the boy riding the donkey and he said:
‘Where is your filial piety?
Know you not the son must do his duty
by the father?
Get off the donkey -
you young donkey!
and allow your father to ride
while you walk with reverence
and duty beside! ’
And so now we have the
Father on the donkey
and the Son walking beside
all three slowly on and on
Father and son
to the market to see
what silver coins
they might get
for this old donkey
that they have taken turns to ride
5
Then comes an old woman
and she mutters to herself as she passes by:
‘Ah, what’s come of life
that a father should ride and
allow the young to walk.’
And so the Father bids his Son
be a pillion rider with him on the donkey
and so they ride
merrily, merrily
on to the market
to see
what silver coins they can get
for this old donkey
that they both ride
5
But no sooner have they covered
but a mile, just a mile
with the respectable Father
and the filial Son
(both on the hapless donkey)
when a voice thunders out from the bush
and the Animal Rights Activist stands out
and he screams:
‘Oh, you cruel people
that you should ride a helpless donkey!
Shame on you!
Much better that you both
carried the creature! ’
And of course
the Son and Father
so reasonable and
always with an open mind
they jump off the donkey
and they carry
the donkey all the way
all the way
just four more miles
just four more miles
and they soon come into the market
carrying the donkey
and shouting:
‘Donkey for sale!
Donkey for sale! ’
6
And the buyers
at the markets
they see
this Father and Son
carrying the donkey
and screaming:
‘Donkey f or sale!
Donkey for sale! ’
And the buyers they say:
‘But it appears, Sirs,
there are
three donkeys for sale
three donkeys for sale!
In declaring
“Donkey for Sale! ”
when there are clearly three
are you offering three
for the price of one? ’
poem by Raj Arumugam
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My footsteps resounds on the yellow wood floors
My footsteps resound
on yellow wood floors
and around me rooms are empty
as you have left
and have taken most of our possessions along.
Every step feels like into a strange place
and still I have been living here for years
and everything is really well known
and I hear the dogs barking outside
even before my cellular phone rings
and your lover wants to talk to me
and I send him straight to hell,
but he phones again
and says that he is outside at the gate.
I tell him that I am not interested
and to drive off
but still he stays
and the dogs and I
have the inclination
to get hold of him
and when I come out of the house
there is thunder in me
and at the gate he drives away
with screaming tires
ripping the grass out
of the sidewalk
and stripes are left on the tar road.
I make some tea
while my blood is boiling
and want to phone you, but what the hell
and whatever you want
can go and lie with your lap dog
and I have nothing more to say to you
and the house is empty without you
and without your children’s voices,
but there a serenity folding over me
and I am without you
and it’s a blessing
the value of that I note much later.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Women
Women...
Some budy
Called flower...
Some budy
Called moon...
Some budy
Called Brandy...
Somebudy
Called hourse...
Some budy
Called donkey...
Some budy
Called basterd...
Some calling
Some of word's
Women with women's...
This words are
Not full fill
The women...
World wide
Women is beauty...
Women is sexy...
Thats thats...
But...
Women is what...?
Not only women
Women is your mother...
Women is your sister...
Women is your wife...
Women is doughter...
Women is your gran mother...
Women is your friend...
Not only above...
Women is a human...
Human is women...
Understand too
All women's...
With your heart...
At your humunity...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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When I was a Tall Lad
WHEN I was a tall lad with money in my hand,
I'd pots and pans a plenty, and friends about the land.
I'd golden roads in sunshine and silver roads in rain,
And a little gray donkey and a girl out of Spain.
Now I am an old man with rings in my ears,
All too sad for laughter, all too wise for tears.
And the Spanish girl has left me, and the money's coming slow
And the little gray donkey he was lamed long ago.
When I get to heaven where tinkers may be seen,
I'll wear a yellow kerchief and a coat of velveteen,
And out beyond the shining streets I'll take the road again
With a little gray donkey and a girl out of Spain.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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the crowd laughs at Nasrudin
See
Nasrudin is in the streets
he rides his donkey;
and see,
the people are in the streets
and the men and women point to Nasrudin
and they laugh;
and the children run behind Nasrudin's donkey
and they roll in the sand
and they laugh at Donkey;
and the youth
throw some old cups
at Nasrudin's donkey and they laugh
and see
Nasrudin sees all this
and he says to them:
Yes, you may see the humor;
but I don't think you see the irony
I was going to go off after the last poem
poem by Raj Arumugam
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