Vilamoura (Portugal)
The sun is shining full and strong on the seaside town,
its marina is full toy boats only the rich can afford.
Restaurants and cafes are selling overpriced food and
drink under shady awnings and parasols.
In summers shade is costly under every tree a table
and waiters waiting to take your order. The midday
sun is relentless a throng of people walking up and
down the promenade, can they all be English?
I often walk here in late October when the elderly
come on holiday, shadows are free the sun is pale
on a fluffy sky, boats have sailed to a warmer clime
and the town dreams of last summer’s wine.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Last Sunday of October
Vilamoura marina on a glorious October day, tourists gone home
leaving the promenade for us elderly to walk sedately along it.
I saw an ancient lady walking forcefully, using a Zimmer frame,
It looked like she was trying to set a new personal record, and
we gave her space. We saw a once famous footballer, sad really
you see them running around a big green field and the next day
they are dated and forty. In case you ask, it wasn’t Beckham.
Many yachts tied up and their owners are allowed to drive their
cars on the promenade, my old socialist heart was ready to revolt.
Cafes were open and served food for us old at reduced price; still
too expensive, it was as idle waiters were eyeing us malevolently.
The Zimmer lady returned I think she had beaten her old record.
Then it was late afternoon and the sea breeze cooled our ardour;
time to go home and drink our cacao.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Burning The Boats
The government have announced
That london bridge is to be closed
Under the full moon of may the third
All the light houses and seaside roads
No I never heard I never read in the news
Come on tell me, whos this for ?
Lighting the questions and
Burning the boats one by one
Burning the boats one by one by
Tap, tap, tap, birds that sing,
Telephone calls that do not ring,
One, two, three, whats the time ?
Whos that hanging off my line ?
I know that nothing lasts for ever
And Im just waiting for the sun to set
Blowing dust from my loud hailer, on the roof.
Come on tell me, whos this for ?
Lighting the questions and
Burning the boats one by one
Burning the boats one by one
Burning the boats one by one by
The ministry of co-operation
Are washed and hanging on the line
Theres a million burning questions
To set the thames alight
Now Ive joined an exclusive club
Just by being more than poor
I saw the deputy chairman, on the floor.
Come on tell me, whos this for ?
Lighting the questions and
Burning the boats one by one
Burning the boats one by one
Burning the boats one by one by
Burning the boats one by one
Burning the boats.
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sea Of Joy
By steve winwood
Following the shadows of the skies,
Or are they only figments of my eyes?
And Im feeling close to when the race is run.
Waiting in our boats to set sail.
Sea of joy.
Once the door swings open into space,
And Im already waiting in disguise.
Is it just a thorn between my eyes?
Waiting in our boats to set sail.
Sea of joy.
Having trouble coming through,
Through this concrete blocks my view
And its all because of you.
Oh, is it just a thorn between my eyes?
Waiting in our boats to set sail.
Sea of joy.
Sea of joy.
Sea of joy.
Sailing free.
Sea of joy.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trains And Boats And Planes
Trains and boats and planes are passing by
They mean a trip to Paris or Rome
To someone else but not for me
The trains and boats and planes
Took you away, away from me
We were so in love, and high above
We had a star to wish upon. Wish
And dreams come true, but not for me
The trains and boats and planes
Took you away, away from me
You are from another part of the world
You had to go back a while and then
You said you soon would return again
I'm waiting here like I promised to
I'm waiting here but where are you?
Trains and boats and planes took you a way
But every time I see them I pray
And if my prayers can cross the sea
The trains and the boats and planes
song performed by by Fountains Of Wayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Colourful Camden
Today, I found myself in Camden Town;
I had time to spare, so I looked around.
It was a place that I had not visited before,
But it's a part of London, I'd love to visit more.
That area of London has a great atmosphere;
It is packed full of fun and full of real cheer.
Everywhere I went, there were massive crowds;
The colours and the sounds were extremely loud.
There were stalls selling food from around the world;
Stalls that sold everything, from books to fake pearls.
There was furniture, footwear, and patterned throws,
Cards, collectables, candles, and all kinds of clothes.
I could have had almost any type of food that I desired;
My taste-buds were tingling, and were almost set on fire;
Of colour and smells and sounds, there was a total riot;
The atmosphere in the marketplace was anything but quiet.
In summer, to the canal-side, many people like to flock:
They love to watch canal boats going through the Lock.
There were people with colourful clothes and colourful hair;
If they looked a little bit different, they obviously didn't care.
The Marketplace itself, is most definitely a real trend-setter,
As you can eat lunch sat upon the seat of a real Lambretta!
The aromas of food and perfume, I really loved to breathe.
There was part of me which really did not want to leave.
In those surroundings, all my senses felt so very enlivened;
My experience has made my mind feel much more wizened.
Of life within Camden Town, there is certainly no lack;
I so loved it there, and, one day, I will definitely go back.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Sitting In The Midday Sun
(sung by the tramp)
Im sitting by the side of a river
Underneath the pale blue sky
Ive got no need to worry, Im in no hurry
Im looking at the world go by.
Just sitting in the midday sun,
Just soaking up that currant bun,
With no particular purpose or reason
Sitting in the midday sun.
Everybody say Im lazy
They all tell me get a job you slob,
Id rather be a hobo walking round with nothing
Than a rich man scared of losing all hes got.
So Im just sitting in the midday sun
Just soaking up that currant bun,
Why should I have to give my reasons
For sitting in the midday sun
Oh look at all the ladies
Looking their best in their summer dresses,
Oh sitting in the sun.
Ive got no home,
Ive got no money
But who needs a job when its sunny. wah wah.
I havent got a steady occupation
And I cant afford a telephone.
I havent got a stereo, radio or video
A mortgage, overdraft, a bank loan.
The only way that I can get my fun
Is by sitting in the midday sun
With no particular purpose or reason
Sitting in the midday sun.
Oh listen to the people,
Say Im a failure and Ive got nothing,
Ah but if they would only see
Ive got my pride,
Ive got no money,
But who needs a job when its sunny. wah wah.
Everybody thinks Im crazy,
And everybody says Im dumb,
But when I see the people shouting at each other
Id rather be an out of work bum.
So Im just sitting in the midday sun
Just soaking up that currant bun,
With no particular purpose or reason
Sitting in the midday sun.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Morning Morgantown
When morning comes to morgantown
The merchants roll their awnings down
The milktrucks make their morning rounds
In morning, morgantown
Well rise up early, with the sun
To ride the bus while everyone is yawning
And the day is young
In morning, morgantown
Morning morgantown
Buy your dreams a dollar down
Morning any town you name
Mornings just the same
Well find a table in the shade
And sip our tea and lemonade
And watch the morning on parade
In morning, morgantown
Ladies in their rainbow fashions
Colored stop and go lights flashing
Well wink at total strangers passing in
Morning, morgantown
Morning morgantown
Buy your dreams a dollar down
Morning any town you name
Mornings just the same
Id like to buy you everything
A wooden bird with painted wings
A window full of colored rings
In morning, morgantown.
But the only thing I have to give
To make you smile, to win you with
Are all the mornings still to live
In morning, morgantown
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paper Boats
Day by day I float my paper boats one by one down the running
stream.
In bid black letters I write my name on them and the name of
the village where I live.
I hope that someone in some strange land will find them and
know who I am.
I load my little boats with shiuli flower from our garden, and
hope that these blooms of the dawn will be carried safely to land
in the night.
I launch my paper boats and look up into the sky and see the
little clouds setting thee white bulging sails.
I know not what playmate of mine in the sky sends them down
the air to race with my boats!
When night comes I bury my face in my arms and dream that my
paper boats float on and on under the midnight stars.
The fairies of sleep are sailing in them, and the lading ins
their baskets full of dreams.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Private Moorings
searching for words in continuum of
incompleteness, it was a trickle at first, then
a free fall, cerebral fury: I am becoming expansive,
so apposed to verbatim of shrieks, only
in whispers I will talk to delphiniums,
I would walk inside the time capsule, come
and sit besides me for a while, I am tired of
this ghost town, and fleeing shadows of
waning luminories on the horizon in
half-naked blooms; on different shores
U-boats are being lowered with torpedos. I am
waiting for the hurricane
poem by Satish Verma
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Warrnambool In January
Tis warm in the full sun but in the shade tis cool
And the magpies and the mudlarks are singing in the City of Warrnambool
Their music in the Summer air where the cars buzz up and down
On Lava Street in the heart of the busy seaside Town.
A pleasant day in January a high of twenty nine degrees
And there is a nice sort of coolness in the freshening coastal breeze
And the magpies and the mudlarks pipe their distinctive melodies
Near where the traffic it is buzzing on the sunlit street trees.
In Warrnambool in January in the holiday time of year
The accents of different races in the shopping malls one does hear
Quite a nice City to visit if you are driving that way
So many people there do smile at you and bid you a good day.
An old rural City in Victoria in the coastal countryside
The famed City of Warrnambool it is known far and wide
The magpies they are fluting and the mudlarks sing pee wee
And the Summer sun is shining on the City by the sea.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Katrina: The Shrimpers Tried Their Best
Twilight sprinkles mist over October waves...
Ribbing docks, straining through nets...
Into sunset boats waiting for tides...
Wishes of months vanishing in weeks...
When brown water seethes, barren
As ash...no one knows, as ropes loosen
Again...
The night harvest will be dreams in waking
Sunrises...nets empty, dripping water...
Bridges open, shut, open once more...
It is only October. Cold. Seagulls keep
Boats company by sunset again...
Flying, sweeping, well fed...
On their own, soaring down on unwary
Fish, too-slow crabs...empty shadows
Shred into webs of too-soon
Family Holidays...yet,
Children always laugh, after little fingers
And eyes forget the presents
Still in stores.
poem by Elysabeth Faslund
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Tear Tram Lines
This town has lost its sparkle,
The stars have lost their shine,
This town’s too full of echoes,
And my face too full of lines.
The shore has lost its tide,
The waves have lost their rhyme,
This town’s too full of tears,
And my smile too full of lines.
The clock has stopped it’s ticking
My feet dance out of time,
This town’s too full of yesterdays,
And my frown too full of lines
The cinema’s showing it’s last reel,
The pubs have all called time,
This towns too full of actors
And my script too full of unread lines….
Bombarded!
Our town
Full of laughter
Full of joy
Full of happiness
Full of life, it was.
In a flash of seconds,
Our town
Full of cries
Full of misery
Full of sympathy
And as silent as glass, now.
No one to be seen walkin'
No houses or trees standin'
Except the miraculous, little church
Standing tall, proud and lonely.
poem by Arsiema Berhane
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Summer And A Dog
Summer and a Dog
Pure sunlight on a forever blue sky, wasn’t there s a song by
Cliff Richard about “Happy Summer Holiday? ” Beaches full of
laughing people. Yes, I remember it well. Out of the sun glare
came an emaciated dog, lost, it must have walked for weeks,
but in the summer light no one had seen it. Near the houses it
collapsed under a bush, I brought some water, left it alone.
When the shadows got longer I brought food for it too, but
it didn’t need food anymore. The villagers came, no, no one
had seen this dog; an untold suffering had come to an end.
Wrapped the dog in a plastic bag, put it in the bin by the road.
The sun was blood orange now and shadows so deep that we
could see again. Too much sunlight is blinding.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Three Boats Down From The Candy
(lyrics: derek dick)
Three boats down from the candy, vacant deckchairs on a floodlit beach
Three boats down from the candy, rollers coast invade the deepest sleep
Three boats down from the candy, carnal dancer let their senses preach
Its a social disease, its the new moral cancer
Dont think crying wolf will give you the answer
You ask for my love on the strength of a kiss
But cant you just play for experience?
Im a poet, Im a poet, Im a minstrel, Im a minstrel
I dont need your chains
Romance lies in ruin let debauchery reign, let it rain
Wipe the tears from your eyes, wipe the sweat from your thighs
Dont crawl to me with sentiment, my laughter drowns your cries
Youre a memory trapped on polaroid, a puppet drawn on celluloid
So drink the wine, confess your sin, just flotsam in a silent void
Three boats down from the candy
Ill remember you
Three boats down from the candy, much to much to lose
Three boats down from the candy, those words were never true
Three boats down from the candy
Ill remember you
Ill remember you
Ill remember you
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Food On My Table
Come and see the food on my table,
For it is prepared for you and me;
And, i am waiting for you in the room of my love.
Life is full of surprises and i want to show you my love,
And here comes the sun of the morning to touch your heart;
For, it is right for you to be beside me at this table.
The food on my table,
As soon as you receive my letter means that i love you;
For life is full of surprises and i want your love,
So come and let us share this food on my table.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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In Memory Of My Mother
I do not think of you lying in the wet clay
Of a Monaghan graveyard; I see
You walking down a lane among the poplars
On your way to the station, or happily
Going to second Mass on a summer Sunday -
You meet me and you say:
'Don't forget to see about the cattle - '
Among your earthiest words the angels stray.
And I think of you walking along a headland
Of green oats in June,
So full of repose, so rich with life -
And I see us meeting at the end of a town
On a fair day by accident, after
The bargains are all made and we can walk
Together through the shops and stalls and markets
Free in the oriental streets of thought.
O you are not lying in the wet clay,
For it is a harvest evening now and we
Are piling up the ricks against the moonlight
And you smile up at us - eternally.
poem by Patrick Kavanagh
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A Paumanok Picture
TWO boats with nets lying off the sea-beach, quite still,
Ten fishermen waiting--they discover a thick school of mossbonkers--
they drop the join'd seine-ends in the water,
The boats separate and row off, each on its rounding course to the
beach, enclosing the mossbonkers,
The net is drawn in by a windlass by those who stop ashore,
Some of the fishermen lounge in their boats, others stand ankle-deep
in the water, pois'd on strong legs,
The boats partly drawn up, the water slapping against them,
Strew'd on the sand in heaps and windrows, well out from the water,
the green-back'd spotted mossbonkers.
poem by Walt Whitman
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When the Full Moon Shines Through the Clouds
Strange shapes can be seen
when the full moon shines through the clouds.
Stange shapes can be seen,
frightengly realistic images
of faces and figures,
some human, some demonic.
And, right now
in the world,
under that same moon
shining through different clouds,
people are cowering in fear.
In parts of the world,
people are sick, and dying,
people are being murdered,
tortured,
people are mourning
and crying over their losses.
And I sit here, in this room,
typing,
in cogitation,
with food,
with drink.
My most pressing current concern
is that a cold October draft
is forcing its way through my window.
I reach to make sure my window is fully closed;
a full moon beams its light into my room
along with that cold October daft,
and I notice:
Strange shapes can be seen
when the full moon shines through the clouds.
poem by Derek R. Audette
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Nobody Gets Off In This Town
Nobody gets off in this town
Trains dont even slow down
My high school sweethearts married and gone
They met on a bus to san antone
The greyhound stops! somebody gets on
But nobody gets off in this town
Nobody gets off in this town
Old folks round here wear a frown
Now let me see if I can set the scene
Its a one-dog town and hes old and mean
Theres one stop light but its always green
Nobody gets off in this town
Nobody gets off in this town
High school colors are brown
They cant drag main because it kicks up dust
Their cars and their dreams are all starting to rust
The high school dances are always a bust
Nobody gets off in this town
Nobody gets off in this town
They oughta just tear it down
Cause in the winter you freeze and in the summer you fry
Utility bills the only thing that gets high
Id go for a drink but this county is dry
Nobody gets off
Nobody gets off
Nobody gets off in this square old merry-go-round
No, nobody gets off in this town
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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