Exile
life in exile
drudgery reluctant
flashes of light
hunger for!
up keep, all it is
try as may
tis, life in exile
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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 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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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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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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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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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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An exile's life is no life.
quote by Leonidas of Tarentum
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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The world knows already, they just don't have a picture up there or I'll spend the rest of my life in exile. It's hard to do that when you don't have any money.
quote by Marc Wallice
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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First Date Tree Saeeded By Abdul Rahman The Firs
You are the apple of my eye,
My heart's delight:
I am remote from my valley,
To me you are the Burning Bush of Sinai!
You are a houri of the Arabian Desert,
Nursed by the Western breeze.
I feel homesick in exile,
You feel homesick in exile:
Prosper in this strange land!
May the morning dew quench your thirst!
The world presents a strange sight:
The vision's mantle is torn apart—
May valour struggle with the waves if it must,
The other side of the river is not to be seen!
Life owes itself to the heat of one's soul:
Flame does not rise from dust.
The Syrian evening's fallen star
Shined brighter in the exile's dawn.
There are no frontiers for the Man of Faith,
He is at home everywhere.
[Translated by the Editors]
*
That blood of pristine vigour is no more;
That yearning heart's power is no more;
Prayer, fasting, hajj, sacrifice survive,
But in thee nature's old dower is no more.
[Translated by Naim Siddiqui]
Not: These verses from Abdul Rahman the First
are quoted in Tarikh al Muqqari. The
following Urdu poem is a liberal
translation (the tree mentioned here was
planted in Madinatut Zahra)
poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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Let The Weary World Go Round
Let the weary world go round!
What care I?
Life's a surfeiting of sound:
I would die.
It would be so sweet to lie
Under waving grasses,
Where a maiden's footstep sly,
Tremulous for a lover nigh,
Sometimes passes.
Why, why remain?
Graves are the sovereign simples
Against life's pain;
Graves are the sheltering wimples
Against life's rain;
Graves are a mother's dimples
When we complain.
O Death! beautiful Death!
Why do they thee disfigure?
To me thy touch, thy breath,
Hath nor alarm nor rigour.
Thee do I long await;
I think thee very late;
I pine much to be going.
Others have gone before;
I hunger more and more
To know what they are knowing.
Heart, heart! be thou content!
Accept thy banishment;
Like other sorrows, life will end for thee.
Yet for a little while
Bear with this harsh exìle,
And Death will soften and will send for thee.
poem by Alfred Austin
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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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An Ex-Princess Among Real Men (Cavatina Sequence)
(after Fleur Adcock)
She is constantly in the press flash light,
but tries to find
a kind of inner peace, some real meaning,
and hide behind
dark glasses, magazines, dark windows;
but in her mind
is turmoil, as she is being ignored;
with all her life she is very bored.
Her husband is daily playing the rich prince,
do not have time
to spend with her, is busy with horses
and is begrime,
he visits his married mistress daily,
he acts sublime
with affairs of business or state
and he forces her for attention to wait.
Of all her prince's inconsistencies
she is aware,
as a kind of exile, beyond a mask,
she still does dare
to choose her lovers, from real solid men
with utter care,
among tank commanders, paratroopers
and businessmen; avoiding snoopers.
When she finds a man of confidence
she gets astride,
loosen her fair hair and gets very wild,
shyness aside
she sucks at tongue, member, bite earlobe,
open up wide
to extreme intimacy with flaming eyes
that is bluer than cobalt skies
and if you think that I am only writing
of one woman,
then you have got it extremely wrong;
as long as man
does disregard, does exile his princess,
then if she can
someone else will entice her in joy,
even if it does her whole life destroy.
[Reference: 'The Ex-queen among the Astronomers' by Fleur Adcock.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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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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Homework
homework again?
will this drudgery ever end?
what do they expect from someone like me
when i don't even know my a, b, c, s.
teachers tell me that i will fail.
and that they see me going to jail.
that i have no ambition.
i can't afford college tuition!
but i know that i must learn
otherwise my life will forever turn.
in this life there is no other way
so i must listen to what they say.
i must take away this negativity
just so that the teachers can see
that there is some hope for me.
everyone says that my future is in my hands
if i learn to take a stand.
so my nose i did put to the books
and paying attention is all it took.
my grades have started to soar so high
that my head i can put to the sky.
now i can finally see, that the
education is the best thing for me.
homework is still a drudgery!
and i may still complain
but my life will never be the same.
THANK YOU TEACHERS FOR KEEPING ME SANE.
poem by Louis Rams
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