The Invisible People
When I go into town at half past seven
Great crowds of people stream across the ways,
Hurrying, although it's only half past seven.
They are the invisible people of the days.
When you go in to town about eleven
The hurrying, morning crowds are hid from view.
Shut in the silent buildings at eleven
They toil to make life meaningless for you.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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Look at the Time! (A Drinking Song)
Look at the time! It's half-past six!
Time for me to be getting my kicks!
I'll have some whisky,
It'll make me frisky,
And then I'll get up to my usual tricks!
Look at the time! It's half-past seven!
And I feel that I should be going to heaven!
I'll have some rum
'Cos I'm not dumb,
And then I'll be drunk by ten to eleven!
Look at the time! It's half-past eight!
I didn't know it was getting so late!
I'll have some brandy
Instead of shandy,
And then I'll be able to face my fate!
Look at the time! It's half-past nine!
(And I know that this doesn't really rhyme!)
I'll have some gin,
It's a bit of a sin,
It's time for a party and I'm feeling fine!
Look at the time! It's half-past ten!
Time to go back to bed again!
I really think
I've had enough to drink,
But I'll be back on the bottle tomorrow again!
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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The Essence of Edinburgh
Evening time, in my town, is often deadly quiet,
But, up here in Edinburgh, there's a sensual riot!
From a night club doorway, purple-pink light spills out;
Along the streets, crowds of tourists still amble about.
There is an endless stream of cars and buses;
In my town, the pace is slow, but here, it rushes.
In the city, there are exciting sights and sounds;
It is so much livelier than my own little town.
In my town, after five, most people have gone home,
But, around the streets of Edinburgh, folk still roam.
Emergency vehicles rush past with klaxons blazing;
The atmosphere here, in the city, is just so amazing.
In my town, it is often almost dead after five,
But the city of Edinburgh is still very much alive.
Of action, in my own town, there's a really big lack;
I don't want to leave here: I don't want to go back.
Edinburgh, at Festival time, is always such a blast;
Against my own town, it paints a very sharp contrast.
Street entertainers attract crowds along the Royal Mile;
Attracting many tourists, they're sure to raise a smile.
At the Military Tattoo, I saw many massed bands;
I saw performers who hailed from foreign lands.
For me, that really was such a memorable night;
It filled all my senses with such excited delight.
I really wish that I could stay here forever and ever;
Inside, my soul feels light, and it floats like a feather.
I don't want to go back home: I don't want to leave.
For this amazing city, my heart will soon grieve.
Here, in Edinburgh, I have had such a great time;
For this wonderful city, I know my heart will pine.
Come tomorrow morning, when I board my train,
The essence of Edinburgh, in my heart, will remain.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Eleven
ELEVEN
Eleven, eleven, eleven years old,
intrepid, courageous, becomingly bold,
awaiting the whistle to aim at the goal,
youth victory snatches to go for the gold.
Eleven in yellow, eleven in blue,
first warm up, then face out, they know what to do,
team practice their axis extended, each soul
feels ready, steels steady, heart heady, on cue.
Eleven enthusiasts, courage extolled,
engage without rage on the field that has told
long tales of hopes met or defeats swallowed whole,
on one ball all focus as onwards its rolled.
Eleven, eleven, well matched, tackle through,
a game which enflames passions partisan, true,
team work all important as each knows the role
to play so the day stays as record all view
Rupert Kensho Robin Le Saux written Chateaugiron 23 October 2006
robi03_1457_robi03_0000 XXX_MXX
Eleven poem © Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Alcohol is a very necessary article... It makes life bearable to millions of people who could not endure their existence if they were quite sober. It enables Parliament to do things at eleven at night that no sane person would do at eleven in the morning.
George Bernard Shaw in Major Barbara (1907)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whatever Gets You On
Picked up the paper
flipped through the pages
reached for my coffee cup
yes, I'm still waking up
late in the day now
what can I say now
some folks are morning people
I never was one of those
all the same
I'll get in the game
give me muddy, muddy water
now I'm feeling better
you know whatever gets you on
and keeps you up right past the dawn
I'm feeling good now
I'm feeling great now
let's do the town now
vodka and tonic
a touch of the chronic
I trade my days for nights
I love the city lights
none of your business
who I might sleep with
some things are bad for me
and some things I just can't resist
all the same (I don't worry)
I'll get in the game (I don't worry)
give me muddy, muddy water
now I'm feeling better
you know, whatever gets you on
and keeps you up right past the dawn
I'm feeling good now
I'm feeling great now
let's do the town now
I'm feeling so free-wheelin'
and it's so hard to maintain
fascinate me
medicate me
'cause I can't get over the pain
picked up the paper
flipped through the pages
coffee and cigarettes
turn on the tv set
night time is falling
people are calling
I like to watch them run
round and round and round
you know, whatever gets you on
and keeps you up right past the dawn
I'm feeling good now
I'm feeling great now
let's do the town now
song performed by by Fastball
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eleven today
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Today you're eleven
That's nine add on two.
Now ten is behind you
And twelve is to come
When riding your bike
Don't fall on your bum.
A six and a five
Make eleven as well
Your maths are so good
This I don't need to tell.
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Legs are eleven
But you've only TWO!
Eleven is better
Than ten any day
That's what I think
And I'm going to say:
'Roses are red
Violets are blue,
Eleven is lovely
And so too are you.'
Written Sept 1994
poem by John Carter Brown
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Into The Happy New Year (Catena Rondo)
There was some rain earlier in this dark night,
outside rockets again do whoosh and thump
in through the open window the cat jumps,
there was some rain earlier in this dark night;
outside rockets continually whoosh and thump,
crackers go bam, bam, ka-boom and ka-boom
dogs bark in fear, howl hysteric outside my room
outside rockets continually whoosh and thump,
crackers go bam, bam, ka-boom and ka-boom
and it is old year’s day that’s almost gone
while the brand New Year is now rushing on,
crackers go bam, bam, ka-boom and ka-boom
and it is old year’s day that’s almost gone
at half-past eleven the neighbours celebrate
a new message my cell-phone indicate
and it is old year’s day that’s almost gone,
at half-past eleven the neighbours celebrate
while they jollily loudly dance and sing
and with their music my ears do ring
at half-past eleven the neighbours celebrate
while they jollily loudly dance and sing
as if the New Year does hold something great
and not a moment longer they can wait,
while they jollily loudly dance and sing
as if the New Year does hold something great;
very later things quiet somewhat down
and in sleep I am coming to my own,
as if the New Year does hold something great
very later things quiet somewhat down
until at three a car hoots across the street
as if it wants the neighbourhood to meet,
very later things quiet somewhat down
until at three a car hoots across the street,
as if all my resolutions and patience to test,
the dogs, the cat and I get some rest
until at three a car hoots across the street,
as if all my resolutions and patience to test
before a thunderbolt crashes electric blue,
blazing at my eyes with its terrible white hue
as if all my resolutions and patience to test,
before a thunderbolt crashes electric blue
there was some rain earlier in this dark night,
people laugh at the car’s bright lights
before a thunderbolt crashes electric blue;
there was some rain earlier in this dark night,
outside rockets again do whoosh and thump,
in through the open window the cat jumps,
there was some rain earlier in this dark night.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Old Town New
On a lover's leap with a freeway view
Sittin' on the hood, thinkin' 'bout you
Playin' over in my mind every kiss
and every fight
Yeah, the fool on the hill is beaten
down another night
There were days so hard that I
thought I had to go
I'd get in my car and just follow the road
But this is my home and it's who I am
And I know I'd stay if I could...
Chorus:
Make this old town new again
Color other than blue again
I'd have something to do again
Instead of thinking of you again
But the people I know and the places I go
Remind me of you
Oh won't somebody come around
And make this old town new
There were nights so long, I thought
the sun burned out
There were girls so wrong I don't
wanna talk about it
I was burning up the night in an
alcohol flame
Lighting my way, trying to...
Chorus:
Make this old town new again
Color other than blue again
I'd have something to do again
Instead of thinking of you again
But the people I know and the places I go
Remind me of you
Oh I'm just hangin' around
Trying to make this old town new
But the people I know and the
places I go
Remind me of you
Love goes wrong but life goes on
And I know what I gotta do
Oh won't somebody come around
And make this old town new
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kolkata is a great city, has great food and great people. We had some problems finding the kind of old buildings we were looking for, and even handling the crowds, but on the whole it was fun shooting there.
quote by Sanjay Dutt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Have Mercy!
Have Mercy!
with final thoughts
i walk these streets,
past vacant buildings hallowed.
in silent mourning,
my heartbeat joining,
the concrete scarred by living.
passing strangers hurrying,
as if they had a life to return to.
while the shouts and cursing of working men,
rings inside the empty walls!
past tenemant buildings,
and unemployed stoops,
and eyes staring from windows.
dogs too hungry to bark,
squad cars passing slow,
tis the funeral of poverty.
while meth lab food stamp children,
sharpen knives against the curb.
and everything's grey, even the sounds,
the air is drunk with anger.
i caught a ride
with a trucker wired,
who mumbled slamming gears.
out into the country
once green and rich...
now brown and deserted.
fields not worked,
farm's foreclosed,
houses left to ghosts and memories.
tractors rusting in the sun,
the air is drunk with anger.
back into town,
past libraries closed,
and churches that ache with empty.
i can hear the sound
of the distant bells...
be it freedom or infinity.
past hospitals full,
and graveyards that move
with shadows in the night.
back to the small room
where i cant sleep...
where god weeps in the stillness.
America, America...
the air is drunk with anger!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Since Nine O'Clock
Half past twelve. Time has gone by quickly
since nine o'clock when I lit the lamp
and sat down here. I've been sitting without reading,
without speaking. Completely alone in the house,
whom could I talk to?
Since nine o'clock when I lit the lamp
the shade of my young body
has come to haunt me, to remind me
of shut scented rooms,
of past sensual pleasure - what daring pleasure.
And it's also brought back to me
streets now unrecognizable,
bustling night clubs now closed,
theatres and cafes no longer here.
The shade of my young body
also brought back the things that make us sad:
family grief, separations,
the feelings of my own people, feelings
of the dead so little acknowledged.
Half past twelve. How the time has gone by.
Half past twelve. How the years have gone by.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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Experience Week Song
Saturday morning experience week
Im so nervous I can hardly speak
Arrive at cluny hill half past ten
Almost turned and went home again
Yes, I almost turned and went home again
My focaliser showed me my room
Felt like she was consigning me to my doom
What am I doing here? whats going on?
Who are these people? what are they on?
Who are these people? what are they on?
Heres comes my roommate, he sure looks weird
Wild black hair and a big fuzzy beard
I met the rest of the group after lunch
What a strange and motley bunch
What a strange and motley bunch
Come sunday morning, Im feeling bad
Enjoyed the dancing but now Im sad
Things feel different dont know why
Feeling lonely, want to cry
Feeling lonely, want to cry
Monday morning, learned everybodys names
We go down to the ballroom to play some games
Something happened I can barely describe
Changed my feelings, changed my life
Changed my feelings, changed my life
Tuesday morning with a hoover in my hand
Cleaning out the dining room, beginning to understand
Tuning in, tuning out
Starting to see what findhorn is all about
Starting to see what findhorn is all about
Wednesday morning in the winter sunshine
Down to cullerne gardens and everybodys feeling fine
This wonderful place as smooth as a dream
Where eleven strangers become a team
Where eleven strangers just become a team
Thursday morning at a quarter past three
Im wide-awake in the sanctuary
Opening myself to the love and a light
Thanking God for steering me right
Thanking God for steering me right
So now its friday almost time to go home
And back into the big wide world I must roam
But Ill take it with me every single thing
Send it out with every song I sing
Send it out with every song I sing
So thats the tale of my experience week
It was beautiful and it was unique
It made me friends and it opened my heart
This isnt the end -- its just the start!
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Experience Week Song
Saturday morning experience week
Im so nervous I can hardly speak
Arrive at cluny hill half past ten
Almost turned and went home again
Yes, I almost turned and went home again
My focaliser showed me my room
Felt like she was consigning me to my doom
What am I doing here? whats going on?
Who are these people? what are they on?
Who are these people? what are they on?
Heres comes my roommate, he sure looks weird
Wild black hair and a big fuzzy beard
I met the rest of the group after lunch
What a strange and motley bunch
What a strange and motley bunch
Come sunday morning, Im feeling bad
Enjoyed the dancing but now Im sad
Things feel different dont know why
Feeling lonely, want to cry
Feeling lonely, want to cry
Monday morning, learned everybodys names
We go down to the ballroom to play some games
Something happened I can barely describe
Changed my feelings, changed my life
Changed my feelings, changed my life
Tuesday morning with a hoover in my hand
Cleaning out the dining room, beginning to understand
Tuning in, tuning out
Starting to see what findhorn is all about
Starting to see what findhorn is all about
Wednesday morning in the winter sunshine
Down to cullerne gardens and everybodys feeling fine
This wonderful place as smooth as a dream
Where eleven strangers become a team
Where eleven strangers just become a team
Thursday morning at a quarter past three
Im wide-awake in the sanctuary
Opening myself to the love and a light
Thanking God for steering me right
Thanking God for steering me right
So now its friday almost time to go home
And back into the big wide world I must roam
But Ill take it with me every single thing
Send it out with every song I sing
Send it out with every song I sing
So thats the tale of my experience week
It was beautiful and it was unique
It made me friends and it opened my heart
This isnt the end -- its just the start!
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Small Town
Well I was born in a small town
And I live in a small town
Probly die in a small town
Oh, those small communities
All my friends are so small town
My parents live in the same small town
My job is so small town
Provides little opportunity
Educated in a small town
Taught the fear of jesus in a small town
Used to daydream in that small town
Another boring romantic thats me
But Ive seen it all in a small town
Had myself a ball in a small town
Married an l.a. doll and brought her to this small town
Now shes small town just like me
No I cannot forget where it is that I come from
I cannot forget the people who love me
Yeah, I can be myself here in this small town
And people let me be just what I want to be
Got nothing against a big town
Still hayseed enough to say
Look whos in the big town
But my bed is in a small town
Oh, and thats good enough for me
Well I was born in a small town
And I can breathe in a small town
Gonna die in this small town
And thats probly where theyll bury me
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Half Drunk In Jesus Town
church bells ringing
down by the mission
walking these streets again
down by the old feed store,
and the row of empty buildings,
listening to the ghosts of the past.
the railroad tracks stand silent,
that old train dont run anymore.
here and there people walking,
aint nobody talking,
stray dogs and broken bottles,
stopped to light one last cigarette.
i can still hear my mother calling,
can still see my daddy's tired eyes,
can still hear the preacher, and
them old songs
but you cant take me down
to the water anymore.
old signs falling in the wind
take one last draw from the bottle
cant bring back what you never had
half drunk in Jesus town.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Good Morning, Good Morning
Nothing to do to save his life call his wife in
Nothing to say but what a day how's your boy been
Nothing to do it's up to you
I've got nothing to say but it's o.k.
Good morning, good morning...
Going to work don't want to go feeling low down
Heading for home you start to roam then you're in town
Everybody knows there's nothing doing
Everything is closed it's like a ruin
Everyone you see is half asleep.
And you're on your own you're in the street
Good morning, good morning...
After a while you start to smile now you feel cool.
Then you decide to take a walk by the old school.
Nothing has changed it's still the same
I've got nothing to say but it's o.k.
Good morning, good morning...
People running round it's five o'clock.
Everywhere in town is getting dark.
Everyone you see is full of life.
It's time for tea and meet the wife.
Somebody needs to know the time, glad that i'm here.
Watching the skirts you start to flirt now you're in gear.
Go to a show you hope she goes.
I've got nothing to say but it's o.k.
Good morning, good morning...
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm absolutely strict about it. When I land, I put my watch right, and I don't care what I feel like, I will go to bed at half past eleven. If that means going to bed early or late, that's what I live by. As soon as you get there, live by that time.
quote by David Attenborough
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Half Breed
My father married a Cherokee
My mother's people were ashamed of me
The Indian's said that I was white by law
The white man always called me Indian Squaw
Half breed
Is all I ever heard
Half breed
Let me hate the word
Half breed
She's no good they warned
Both sides were against me since the day I was born
We never settled went from town to town
When you're not welcome you don't hang around
The other children always laughed at me
Give her a feather she's a Cherokee
Half breed
Is all I ever heard
Half breed
Let me hate the word
Half breed
She's no good they warned
Both sides were against me since the day I was born
We weren't accepted and I felt the shame
Fifteen I left and tell me whose to blame
My life since then has been from man to man
But I can't run away from what I am
Half breed
Is all I ever heard
Half breed
Let me hate the word
Half breed
She's no good they warned
Both sides were against me since the day I was born
Half breed
Is all I ever heard
Half breed
Let me hate the word
Half breed
She's no good they warned
Both sides were against me since the day I was born
song performed by by Shania Twain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In many ways life is less random than we think. In your past and mine, there have been times when we have, on some lonely trail, constructed a device aimed into our future. Perhaps nothing ever comes along to trigger it. We live through the safe years. But, for some people, something moves on the half-forgotten path, and something arches out of the past and explodes in the here and now.
quote by John D. MacDonald
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sylvester’s Dying Bed
I woke up this mornin’
’Bout half-past three.
All the womens in town
Was gathered round me.
Sweet gals was a-moanin’,
“Sylvester’s gonna die!”
And a hundred pretty mamas
Bowed their heads to cry.
I woke up little later
’Bout half-past fo’,
The doctor ‘n’ undertaker’s
Both at ma do’.
Black gals was a-beggin’,
“You can’t leave us here!”
Brown-skins cryin’, “Daddy!
Honey! Baby! Don’t go, dear!”
But I felt ma time’s a-comin’,
And I know’d I’s dyin’ fast.
I seed the River Jerden
A-creepin’ muddy past—
But I’s still Sweet Papa ’Vester,
Yes, sir! Long as life do last!
So I hollers, “Com’ere, babies,
Fo’ to love yo’ daddy right!”
And I reaches up to hug ’em—
When the Lawd put out the light.
Then everything was darkness
In a great ... big ... night.
poem by Langston Hughes
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