Travails Of Survival
his skin exudes
the native perfumes
his heart is filled with
native tunes
from village to
town to metro
did he migrate
always drawing the
scents and tunes
for his sustenance
stranger he is in the metro
breathes his lungful once
amidst the familiar environs
moving under the known skyscape
a nowhere man in the metro
he is himself back at the village
survival calls him
survival displaces him
this nowhere man is
found everywhere
he goes about spraying
the native perfumes
he moves about
his heart humming the tunes...
15jun2010
14.47hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Related quotes
Passion
The keys to notes play tunes of loss,
Tunes of longing, tunes of blues.
'Til metal enshrouding the air does trump with
Tunes of longing, tunes of blues.
Wood and string provide a base for
Tunes of longing, tunes of blues.
Encased in brass belong the bones of
Tunes of longing, tunes of blues.
Emblems and traps do kick and swear by
Tunes of longing, tunes of blues.
Until laughter disturbs this sweet eden,
My tortured soul lies bare.
I leave my emotions encapsulated
In sonic vibrations of air.
The tunes of longing and tunes of blues
Are played until the eve
When players no longer respect their tears
And thus, themselves, deceive.
poem by Liam O'Brien
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I do very few standards. Hardly any. Other people's tunes that I do are usually obscure tunes, for the most part, although I do a couple of Duke Ellington tunes that are well known.
quote by Mose Allison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Instant Tunes
Instant tunes only just been made
Instant songs never to be played
Instant tunes hanging out to dry
Let me try to introduce you to
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Ever and ever will they give us pleasure
Their instant, still instant
Like mother used to make it -- oh!
Instant tunes give instant cash
Make me want to start a backlash
Let me have the recipe
And make me some lovely, lovely
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Ever and ever will they give us pleasure
Their instant, still instant
Like mother used to make it -- oh!
Ever and ever will they give us pleasure
Their instant, still instant
Like mother used to make it -- oh!
Instant tunes give instant cash
Make me want to start a backlash
Let me have the recipe
And make me some lovely, lovely
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Tin-Whistle Player
'Tis long since, long since, since I heard
A tin-whistle played,
And heard the tunes, the ha'penny tunes
That nobody made!
The tunes that were before Cendfind
And Cir went Ireland's rounds
That were before the surety
That strings have given sounds!
And now is standing in the mist,
And jigging backward there,
Shrilling with fingers and with breath,
A tin-whistle player!
He has hare's eyes, a long face rimmed
Around with badger-grey;
Aimless, like cries of mountain birds
The tunes he has to play
The tunes that are for stretches bare,
And men whose lives are lone
And I had seen that face of his
Sculptured on cross of stone,
That long face, in a place of graves
With nettles overgrown.
poem by Padraic Colum
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I'm not really a country singer, although I did make a couple albums and love its simple, straight-from-the-heart approach, but I have always sung a lot of jazz, show tunes, pop tunes, gospel and blues.
quote by Dinah Shore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Memories of False Bay!
On a more remote hour_
Far away from my native home,
The moon and the stars for me do shine;
In the blackberry brambles, crickets chant
Just as they did in the village.
The seagulls l hear in the back of my mind;
The lovely sandy beach of False Bay l envision;
The sound of mbira still chime in my head
And so does the mourning wild wind!
And the angry waves would come crushing against the shores!
O, Zame! Let these for me abide
Till l go back to my native roots...!
poem by Tafadzwa Matamba
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I like Celtic folk music, Native American music, and any kind of early music. There isn't a lot of music that I don't like... except for Show Tunes.
quote by Terri Windling
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Red With Native Blood
Give them back their bloody land,
red with native blood.
We have soiled it so, with our hands,
red with native blood.
The earth was stained, when we first came,
red with native blood.
We stole their domain, with a barbaric claim:
that we were civilised and they were not,
that they were the savages and we were not,
when we ravaged the land that began to clot,
red with native blood.
Not content with genocide
we interned them in reserves.
To break their culture
and tribal ways;
in stealing children
the state was brave,
to turn their women
into household slaves,
and hope their men would die,
unmourned, in lonely graves;
a problem to us no more.
Give them back their bloody land,
red with native blood.
Acknowledge their just demands,
wash the stains from our hands,
give them back their bloody land,
red with native blood.
poem by David SmithWhite
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A Nice Middle Class Family
A Nice Middle-Class Family
I know the guy, who planned the Lisbon Metro,
he’s French, called Pierre and has a red beard,
the only famous man I know. He lives in a posh
part of Paris, his wife paints livid pictures, lots of
ruby, I wonder why, as nothing in Europe can be
more worthy than the French bourgeoisie.
Two pleasant daughters and a splendid son too
all firmly educated, they can play piano and sing.
His girls are married to young, simple men from
the cultured field of soft carpets and commerce.
They will do well, but not as ably as their father
who helped construct the great Lisbon Metro.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Love Upon a Star
The bars are at its peak, pinnacle, throne-
My head perpendicular to my body,
slouching with this rugged chair-
Shuffle tune and tunes and-
Nonsense, I'm just thinking of you
I suppose these 'tunes' are-
well, there to distract myself from your beauty,
But by each note that has me humming,
I gaze past the frosty window,
Looking at your soul through a lyric-
With each beat of my heart,
that keeps a tempo with a mellow kick drum,
I can only imagine what you are doing in the distance-
Or what I can tell you with a lyric or my eyes,
For you are a star,
And I will gaze upon your elegance with this failure of a distraction-
Only to smile and wonder...
poem by Daniel Thomason
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I Shall Return
I shall return again; I shall return
To laugh and love and watch with wonder-eyes
At golden noon the forest fires burn,
Wafting their blue-black smoke to sapphire skies.
I shall return to loiter by the streams
That bathe the brown blades of the bending grasses,
And realize once more my thousand dreams
Of waters rushing down the mountain passes.
I shall return to hear the fiddle and fife
Of village dances, dear delicious tunes
That stir the hidden depths of native life,
Stray melodies of dim remembered runes.
I shall return, I shall return again,
To ease my mind of long, long years of pain.
poem by Claude McKay
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In '48 when I left Metro, I tried to go back to radio, but somehow just didn't do well at it.
quote by Marie Windsor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yeah I do and I don't mind, in fact that is one of the real encouraging things about this whole career of mine is that there are tunes I wrote almost thirty years ago that I will still play in front of an audience and I still like the old tunes.
quote by Leo Kottke
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stranger In My Mirror
there's a stranger in my mirror, who don't know how to behave. he keeps grinnin
bout you and whistilin tunes, while he ought to be watchin, we move alike and
we loo the same but i swear we've got totally different brains and the love
we're in with you, just makes it clear, he used to be my win, now there's a
stranger in my mirror. and he doesn't want to go out drinkin with all of his
friends no more, he's got both of thinkin, you're what we;re livin for. we've
gone crazy and we can't recover. you're always on one mind or the other. i
admit we should be certified. he's a little schizophrenic and so am i, there's
a stranger in my mirror, who don't know how to be have, he keeps grinnin bout
you and whistlin tunes. while he ought to be watchin me shave, we move alike
and we loo the same but i swear we've got totally different brains and the love
we're in with you, just makes it clear, he used to be my win, now there's a
stranger in my mirror.
and he's always doin little things i never thought i'd do, like lookin at
diamond rings, drwin hearts and writin i love you's. thought it was just a case
of mild affection, until i cought a glimpse of my reflection. i looked up into
my own eyes. and saw someone startin back i didn't recognize.
there's a stranger in my mirror, who don't know how to behave. he keeps grinnin
bout you and whistilin tunes, while he ought to be watchin, we move alike and
we loo the same but i swear we've got totally different brains and the love
we're in with you, just makes it clear, he used to be my win, now there's a
stranger in my mirror. lord i'm in love with you and there's a stranger in my
mirror.
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The politics of the Cape Town Metro, which allows an executive Mayoral committee to make secret decisions which affect you, behind closed doors, is wrong!
quote by Mangosuthu Buthelezi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Little Native Rose
There is a lasting little flower,
That everybody knows,
Yet none has thought to think about
The little Native Rose.
The wattle and the waratah—
The world has heard of those;
But who, outside Australia, kens
The little Native Rose.
Yet first for faint, far off perfume,
That lives where memory goes;
And first of all for fadelessness—
The little Native Rose.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Native American
I am native american
Ho ka hey wah nah (steven and bruce)
Ho ka hey wah nah woh
Ho ka hey wah nah
Ho ka hey wah nah woh
Ho ka hey wah nah
Ho ka hey wah nah woh
(editors note: the above is war cry of the lakota(sioux) meaning
Lets go - now)
Life was forever when we were young (steven)
The land was protected for everyone (bruce)
Forever as long as the rivers run (both)
But now the water no longer comes (steven)
And now all that remains (both)
Is darkness a poisoned earth
And now before its too late
We must provide our own new birth
Chorus:
I am native american
I am native american
The question of honor you must decide (bruce)
The soul of the nation has been denied (steven)
Our dreams have been stolen before our eyes (both)
How do you say theres no tomorrow to a child? (bruce)
>from us there is much to learn (both)
There is so much youve forgotten
You cant change me
Try and understand I am proud of who I am
Chorus:
I am native american
I am native american
We must try and remember what were here for (steven)
You will suffer the darkness alone no more (bruce)
You will have the strength of all of us
Gathered here today (both)
That is something they can never take away (bruce)
Chorus:
I am native american
I am native american
Ho ka hey wah nah (steven and bruce)
Ho ka hey wah nah woh
Repeat 7 more times til fade
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The House That Cee Built
Introducing ladies and gentlemen
the young man that's had over thirty-five soul classics
Among these classics are tunes that will never die
Tunes like --
"FUNKY!" "I get +Raw+"
"Set It Off" "Ain't No Half-Steppin'"
"I'll Take You There"
"Yo
song performed by by Big Daddy Kane from It's a Big Daddy Thing
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chocolate Hill Of Carmen
there was this man/god
whose love
was unrequited by
the native woman
who fell in love
with another
native, and he got so angry
and threw mountains
on the plains
legend says, the chocolate hills
came about because
of (again) a broken
heart.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Only Land For Me (A currency Lad)
Prate not to me of foreign strand,
Of beauty o'er the sea -
"This is my own - my native land" -
The only land for me!
The only land for me
The only land for me
"This is my own - my native land" -
The only land for me!
I love to roam, like a wild gazelle,
O'er my native mountains blue,
And wildly, thro' the woody dell,
Chase the bounding kangaroo!
The bounding kangaroo
The bounding kangaroo
And wildly thro' the woody dell
Chase the bounding kangaroo!
I've rode upon the stormy wave,
I've danc'd aboon the sea;
And where's the pleasure that it gave
Like my native land to me?
My native land to me
My native land to me
And where's the pleasure that it gave
Like my native land to me?
poem by Anonymous Oceania
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