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A rich queen and a poor king

The handsome threadbare man who struggled in a slum.
I don't know why I loved him and took him to my palace?
I gave an old king's name to bring him to our own society.
This beautiful witch-Queen dragged me to her palace
and given me an ugly name of a Lunatic.
My halcyon slum is a paradise.
The edge of the heavy crown pierced my head
and I never had a sound sleep
since I came to this hell.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Slum Dance

I go out of my way today
Just so I can dance the slum dance
With the poor people that live in the slum
Because they love to dance the slum dance
With other people
And they get very excited when they have other people
To dance the slum dance with
There is a fine weather in the sky
Where the slum is
Also in the slum there is no clean water to drink
But they have no choice rather than to drink the dirty water full of flies And mosquitoes

poem by Aldo Kraas
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The Golden Rose

A POOR lost princess, weary and worn,
Came over the down by the wind-washed moor,
And the king looked out on her grace forlorn,
And he took her in at his palace door.

He made her queen, he gave her a crown,
Bidding her rest and be glad and gay
In his golden town, with a golden gown,
And a new gold lily every day.

But the crown is heavy, the gold gown gray,
And the queen's pale breast is like autumn snows;
For he brings a gold lily every day,
But no king gathers the golden rose.

One came at last to the palace keep
By worlds of water and leagues of land,
Gray were his garments, his eyes were deep,
And he held the golden rose in his hand.

She left gold gown, gold town, gold crown,
And followed him straight to a world apart,
And he left her asleep on the wind-washed down,
With the golden rose on her quiet heart.

poem by Edith Nesbit
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Elizabeth

I am not telling anything about the Queen,
Her name also Elizabeth but her Palace
Somewhere else, in front of an old Railway station.
She cannot sleep well because of the express trains
But some nights she dreams the Commonwealth it seems.
One night after a couple of drinks I searched some notes in my wallet
But they were disappeared secretly and I gave her some coins.
She said; 'Thank you Mr.Edinborough you know my mother's a seamstress to a bygone Queen and she gave this beautiful name.'
I didn't correct my name and I said; ' Yes, Mrs.Elizabeth I 'll convey the message when I go to the Palace for music lessons.'

*I dedicate this to the old senile woman who slept on the road that stuck in my memory and torments me all the time!

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Slum Kids

Were just slum kids, and we know it,
And we never stood a chance.
We were dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.
So how dare you criticize,
When you dont know what its like
To be dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.
Why do rich kids get all the breaks,
While the poor slum kids have to work, sweat, struggle and slave?
Why, lord, theres so much injustice in this world?
Slum kids never stand a chance.
Look at all the slum kids all around you,
Oh, they never stood a chance.
We were dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.
Why do rich kids get all the breaks,
While the poor slum kids have to work, sweat, struggle and slave?
Why, lord, theres so much injustice in this world?
Slum kids never stand a chance.
Look at all the slum kids all around you,
Oh, they never stood a chance.
We were dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.
So how dare you criticize,
When you dont know what its like
To be dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Slum Kids (take 1)

Were just slum kids, and we know it,
And we never stood a chance.
We were dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.
So how dare you criticize,
When you dont know what its like
To be dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.
Why do rich kids get all the breaks,
While the poor slum kids have to work, sweat, struggle and slave?
Why, lord, theres so much injustice in this world?
Slum kids never stand a chance.
Look at all the slum kids all around you,
Oh, they never stood a chance.
We were dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.
Why do rich kids get all the breaks,
While the poor slum kids have to work, sweat, struggle and slave?
Why, lord, theres so much injustice in this world?
Slum kids never stand a chance.
Look at all the slum kids all around you,
Oh, they never stood a chance.
We were dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.
So how dare you criticize,
When you dont know what its like
To be dragged up from the gutter,
From the wrong side of the tracks.

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Snow Queen 1. (Rev.) 22 August 2008

I must go and save my love
from the Snow Queen’s palace –
built of driven snow, doors and
windows pierced by winds

…My love once saw a snowflake brilliant
…white, beautiful and delicate turned
…into a snow maiden, dressed in finest
…gauze – but ice, hard and glittering…

A hobgoblin’s changing mirror made
all good and beauty into the bad and
ugly; the mirror fell and shattered
and a shard lodged in an eye

…It saw the plain and the ugly,
…when a splinter pierced a
…heart, it turned into
…a piece of ice…

Hans Christian Andersen

poem by Margaret Alice
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Crackerbox Palace

I was so young when I was born
My eyes could not yet see
And by the time of my first dawn
Somebody holding me . . . they said
I welcome you to crackerbox palace
Weve been expecting you
You bring such joy in crackerbox palace
No matter where you roam know our love is true
While growing up or trying to
Not knowing where to start
I looked around for someone who
May help reveal my heart - someone said
While youre a part of cracerbox palace
Do what the rest all do
Or face the fact that crackerbox palace
May have no other choice than to deport you
I welcome you to crackerbox palace
Weve been expecting you
You bring us joy in crackerbox palace
No matter where you roam know our love is true
Sometimes are good . . . sometimes are bad
Thats all a part of life
And standing in between them all
I met a mr. grief - and he said
I welcome you to crackerbox palace
Was not expecting you
Lets rap and tap at crackerbox palace
Know that the lord is well and inside of you
(chorus)

song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Madness

(For Sara Teasdale)

The lonely farm, the crowded street,
The palace and the slum,
Give welcome to my silent feet
As, bearing gifts, I come.

Last night a beggar crouched alone,
A ragged helpless thing;
I set him on a moonbeam throne --
Today he is a king.

Last night a king in orb and crown
Held court with splendid cheer;
Today he tears his purple gown
And moans and shrieks in fear.

Not iron bars, nor flashing spears,
Not land, nor sky, nor sea,
Nor love's artillery of tears
Can keep mine own from me.

Serene, unchanging, ever fair,
I smile with secret mirth
And in a net of mine own hair
I swing the captive earth.

poem by Joyce Kilmer
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‘He came unto His own, and His own received Him not’

As Christ the Lord was passing by,
He came, one night, to a cottage door.
He came, a poor man, to the poor;
He had no bed whereon to lie.

He asked in vain for a crust of bread,
Standing there in the frozen blast.
The door was locked and bolted fast.
‘Only a beggar!’ the poor man said.

Christ the Lord went further on,
Until He came to a palace gate.
There a king was keeping his state,
In every window the candles shone.

The king beheld Him out in the cold.
He left his guests in the banquet-hall.
He bade his servants tend them all.
‘I wait on a Guest I know of old.’

‘’Tis only a beggar-man!’ they said.
‘Yes,’ he said; ‘it is Christ the Lord.’
He spoke to Him a kindly word,
He gave Him wine and he gave Him bread.

Now Christ is Lord of Heaven and Hell,
And all the words of Christ are true.
He touched the cottage, and it grew;
He touched the palace, and it fell.

The poor man is become a king.
Never was man so sad as he.
Sorrow and Sin on the throne make three,
He has no joy in mortal thing.

But the sun streams in at the cottage door
That stands where once the palace stood.
And the workman, toiling to earn his food,
Was never a king before.

poem by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
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I'm your friend...at the moment

World has turned into strange place
No, it’s a strange place
Friend is foe, foe is family
Enemy becomes ally, ally is their spy
Children forget their roots
Strangers search paradise for far
So pick a side, take a curly turn
In this world madness party
Today’s blue, tomorrow’s red
Today’s true, tomorrow’s not yet
So easily to change, so desperate for range
Loyalty is frail, emotion is strained
Winner becomes poor, poor becomes king
King abduction to slum, slum raises hero
We are scavengers, sneaking for opportunity
Play the game, exchange the ride
Laugh at day, war at night
All stirred in one messy crowded place
So take my hand, I’ll help you now
But watch your back, maybe I’m the one who first to blow

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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This be the last time we use the phrase 'Slumdog

We, as Indians, have reasons
To be proud of having
Created history by the film
“Slumdog Millionaire”
At the same time, we, as human beings,
Have to have hung our heads for
Having created slums

Slum, as it means
An overcrowded area of a city,
Where the housing is in a very bad condition
And people live in unhygienic conditions
With no basic facilities

And who created slums,
Not the people residing there
But those whose greed has brought
These slum dwellers into these
Unfit-for-living conditions

The technicalities employed in
Filming this movie deserve all praise
While the different ways of living
Of the slum dwellers equally deserve attention
Of the entire human race
For correction and improvement

The film was declared to be
The best-directed
While the slum tribes have no directions
And they have no one to direct

The film was declared to be
The best film
While the slum where the film was shot
Is the worst place
For any human being

Let the recognition of the film
Bring to light the plight of slumdogs
To the fore
And let the human race do everything
Possible to move these people
Out of the slums, wherever they are,
And to help them live a decent, if not better, living

We shall be doing a great service
If this becomes the last ever time
We use this phrase “Slumdog”

poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Queen

I am the queen
of my own little kingdom
my palace is small
and my crown is not glittering.

I have no knights
or even servants that serve me
but I am the queen
of my own little kingdom.

I only have fishes
and turtles
and flowers to care for
and children too.

You don't have to call me
'your highness'
or even bow your head
in front of me.

But as the queen
of my own little kingdom
you have to respect my authority
over my domain.

poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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A Man From The Slum District

ı a m a man from a slum district
my pockets are empty and moneyı ess
in obligation
ı am a member of a fake syndicate
in the factory ı work as a laborer
ı f open my mouth
and talk against my bosses
ı will be booted and fired
find myself in the streets
ı am a man nfrom a slum district
my struggle with others is obligatary
to survive
ı drink wine which kills a dog
ı am screaming all night in the streets
against alll these
with the night watches guarding me
ı am a man from a slum district
my badly cladding is also obligatory
in beyoglu
policemen strolling..watching and batoning me
sometimes to death
ı am a man from a slum district
ı f ı touch others' wind they lick me and bruise me
my love affairs are unjust and obligatory too
fathers are on watch in front of their houses
if ı look at a girl or even gaze at their daughters
it will be the cause of the many murders
Yusuf HAYALOGLU.....Translation Metin Ş AHİ N

poem by Metin Sahin
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Foreign Window

I saw you from a foreign window
Bearing down the sufferin road
You were carryin your burden
To the palace of the lord
To the palace of the lord
I spied you from a foreign window
When the lilacs were in bloom
And the sun shone through your window pane
To the place you kept your books
You were reading on your sofa
You were singin every prayer
That the masters had instilled in you
Since lord byron loved despair
In the palace of the lord
In the palace of the lord
Bridge:
And if you get it right this time
You dont have to come back again
And if you get it right this time
Theres no need to explain
I saw you from a foreign
Bearing down the sufferin road
You were carryin your burden
You were singing about rimbaud
I was going down to geneva
When the kingdom had been found
I was giving you protection
From the loneliness of the crowd
In the palace of the lord
In the palace of the lord
They were giving you religion
Breaking bread and drinking wine
And you laid out on the green hills
Just like when you were a child
I saw you from a foreign window
You were trying to find your way back home
You were carrying your defects
Sleeping on a pallet on the floor
In the palace of the lord
In the palace of the lord
In the palace of the lord
Etc etc...

song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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They are a happy couple

While the king enjoys the company
Of some women outside his palace,
The queen is relived of his presence
To have her men in her residence.
She is helpless to check the king’s move
And he is timeless to track his queen.
Both believe the other is loyal
And they as a happy couple live.
03.05.2009

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Buckingham Palace

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
Alice is marrying one of the guard.
"A soldier's life is terrible hard,"
Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
We saw a guard in a sentry-box.
"One of the sergeants looks after their socks,"
Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
We looked for the King, but he never came.
"Well, God take care of him, all the same,"
Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
They've great big parties inside the grounds.
"I wouldn't be King for a hundred pounds,"
Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
A face looked out, but it wasn't the King's.
"He's much too busy a-signing things,"
Says Alice.

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
"Do you think the King knows all about me?"
"Sure to, dear, but it's time for tea,"
Says Alice.

poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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After a Goodnight's sleep

I wake up to the discotheque World.
The stars disappear and the pale moon still hangs in the sky
With a broken smile.
Plump sun comes out like a ripen orange,
I think of the last night's meritorious dream.
Oh! I was a playboy king in the palace's harem
While my smiling queen in a sound sleep after some sedatives.
But the daybreak I am just the janitor who opens & closes the door for my insomniac Boss's world.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Palace Of The Brine

In a place they say is dead
In the lake thats like an ocean
I count about a billion head
All the time
Theres a motion
Palace of the brine
I saw the cloning
Of the famous family
I heard the droning
In the shrine
Of the sea-monkey
Palace of the brine
Beneath reflections in the fountain
The starry sky and utah mountains
They are swimming happily
Cant you see
A life thats so sublime
Palace of the brine.

song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Suzanne & The Jewels

Suzanne was the jewel keeper
In a word she stole all the jewels
And she took them to a foreign land
Which was strictly against all the rules
And she wore them all proudly
Like a tiara crown on her head
She slept with them at night
Suzanne and the jewels in a bed
Chorus:
Suzanne and her jewels
Livin on the edge of a friend
Suzanne, how will you sleep at night
When they take that crown from your head?
Suzanne lived down by the river
The fountain of youth did flow
And she played on a steel guitar
And the drifters did come and theyd go
And shed put on her crown
And shed sing them a song
And some drifters would stay here the night
But they never did stay long
Chorus:
Suzanne and her jewels
Livin on the edge of a friend
Suzanne, how will you sleep at night
When they take that crown from your head?
This girl flew on the wind
She wrote her own name in the stars
Just goes to show sometimes you win
No matter how crazy you are
But a thief can come knocking
Even with blood on the door
And drink up your fountain of youth
And throw your jewels and your crown on the floor
Chorus:
Suzanne and her jewels
Livin on the edge of a friend
Suzanne, how will you sleep at night
When they take that crown from your head?
Suzanne and her jewels
Livin on the edge of a friend
Suzanne, how will you sleep at night
When they take that crown off your head?

song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vashti

She leaned her head upon her hand
And heard the King's decree --
"My lords are feasting in my halls;
Bid Vashti come to me.

"I've shown the treasures of my house,
My costly jewels rare,
But with the glory of her eyes
No rubies can compare.

"Adorn'd and crown'd I'd have her come,
With all her queenly grace,
And, 'mid my lords and mighty men,
Unveil her lovely face.

"Each gem that sparkles in my crown,
Or glitters on my throne,
Grows poor and pale when she appears,
My beautiful, my own!"

All waiting stood the chamberlains
To hear the Queen's reply.
They saw her cheek grow deathly pale,
But light flash'd to her eye:

"Go, tell the King," she proudly said,
"That I am Persia's Queen,
And by his crowds of merry men
I never will be seen.

"I'll take the crown from off my head
And tread it 'neath my feet,
Before their rude and careless gaze
My shrinking eyes shall meet.

"A queen unveil'd before the crowd! --
Upon each lip my name! --
Why, Persia's women all would blush
And weep for Vashti's shame!

"Go back!" she cried, and waved her hand,
And grief was in her eye:
"Go, tell the King," she sadly said,
"That I would rather die."

They brought her message to the King;
Dark flash'd his angry eye;
'Twas as the lightning ere the storm
Hath swept in fury by.

Then bitterly outspoke the King,
Through purple lips of wrath --
"What shall be done to her who dares
To cross your monarch's path?"

Then spake his wily counsellors --
"O King of this fair land!
From distant Ind to Ethiop,
All bow to thy command.

"But if, before thy servants' eyes,
This thing they plainly see,
That Vashti doth not heed thy will
Nor yield herself to thee,

"The women, restive 'neath our rule,
Would learn to scorn our name,
And from her deed to us would come
Reproach and burning shame.

"Then, gracious King, sign with thy hand
This stern but just decree,
That Vashti lay aside her crown,
Thy Queen no more to be."

She heard again the King's command,
And left her high estate;
Strong in her earnest womanhood,
She calmly met her fate,

And left the palace of the King,
Proud of her spotless name --
A woman who could bend to grief,
But would not bow to shame.

poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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