Gideon Valley
In the Gideon valley I grew up, crawled with scars
I was drowned ten times when I was a young stratum star
The stream in between I swum when it was winter usual crest
Perfectly the home of baobab trees, songs of baboons' seasons' lake
The land was born and discovered from nose of rose hearts
Such a tall man went bare footed to clear the air stripe hectares
Such atall feet entangled in sands, strong path he bestowed facts
The gradpa rocked on to save many coming lives of stones of funks
My grandma argued the sprit of huts and perched on the air field
Afterthe lion slept afew days of years of a fallen fluid
My wrinkled mama retained that air stripe of cereals, corns' roll
I limped with her and sped the days like bites and nails moll
My young age, of teens, of rays on railings trail graves
My school life, gripped me and moved on grey matter's groove
And the Gideon leader called often with marker's grades
But I always sung my song of natty gritty day long dredges
I paid the debt spent in vain of widened mighty drawn attacks
I found the ruler of Ngara primary rock and rolled dead anarchies
While the grandma laughed at me in joy
I salute the Gideon Valley of bumper yield glory
poem by Paul Mwenelupembe
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Related quotes
Silver
Nirvana- Silver
Mom and dad went to a show
They dropped me off at Grandpa Joe's
I kicked and screamed, said please don't go
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Had to eat my dinner there
Mashed potatoes and stuff like that
I couldn't chew my meats too good
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
She said, well, don't you start your crying
Go outside and ride your bike
That's what I did, I killed my toe
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
After dinner, I had ice cream
I fell asleep and watched TV
I woke up in my mother's arms
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
I wanna be alone
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rules Of Chasing Baboons
If sunrises on mount Gideon
on the raods, and only sandy routes
Strifling on it to the baboon house
Twenty miles away from home
it grins by your foot
If you are late with a minute,
cereals are unretreated;
Shinning to the baboos' house
And they shoot with aquick steps
With their rifles clearly held
And cereals, cry for support
There are decrees attached to them
Beautifully laid down, the human life
For they say we grow and you care
But when such rules, scary ones
But when rules are in the autam
And both lives are bothered
All rules are good but these jangle ones
Early wake up and give support to cereals
The greatest ever the king of Gideon said
And weave the nkhombiyo to hold the bullet
ready to fight the baboons
Shout, shout and shout the decree
All day long to awaken them
Whilst the bullets are being shoot
On the weaved mat, sling of stones round and round
Yelling for the fight in the kingdom
Build chitembe, a source of jangle home
A branket and canopy when rains laugh
The main rule to grab on reasons
And start the spring seasons
While the Mwandovi king awards you greatly
poem by Paul Mwenelupembe
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The Band of Gideon
The band of Gideon roam the sky,
The howling wind is their war-cry,
The thunder roll is their trump's peal,
And the lightning flash their vengeful steel.
Each black cloud
Is a fiery steed.
And they cry aloud
With each strond deed,
"The sword of the lord and Gideon."
And men below rear temples high
And mock their God with reasons why,
And live in arrogance, sin and shame,
And rape their souls for the world's good name.
Each black cloud
Is a fiery steed.
And they cry aloud
With each strond deed,
"The sword of the lord and Gideon."
The band of Gideon roam the sky
And view the earth with baleful eye,
In holy wrath they scourge the land
With earth-quake, storm and burning brand.
Each black cloud
Is a fiery steed.
And they cry aloud
With each strond deed,
"The sword of the lord and Gideon."
The lightnings flash and the thunders roll,
And "Lord have mercy on my soul,"
Cry men as they fall on the stricken sod,
In agony searching for their God.
Each black cloud
Is a fiery steed.
And they cry aloud
With each strond deed,
"The sword of the lord and Gideon."
And men repent and then forget
That heavenly wrath they ever met,
The band of Gideon yet will come
And strike their tongues of blasphemy dumb.
Each black cloud
Is a fiery steed.
And they cry aloud
With each strond deed,
"The sword of the lord and Gideon."
poem by Joseph Seamon Cotter
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Gideon Scheepers
There’s a Boer commandant
that proofs himself at Magersfontein
and help to beat the British there
and at Paardeberg on horseback,
rides right through them
and they cannot touch him.
When his commando
enters the Cape Colony
rail tracts are blown away
and British trains stand and wait
and there are many Cape Boers
that joins him
to fight against
the overwhelming British might.
The British give guns
to the black population
and send them to farmsteads
to murder women and children
and to rape
and to Gideon Scheepers it’s more than enough
and it hits him like a hammer blow
and every black man
that his commando catches carrying a firearm
is hanged.
Then it happens
that the British find Gideon Scheepers
lying ill in the field
and they execute him
and somewhere in the field
he is pushed into an unmarked grave
and even today
nobody knows where
Gideon Scheepers lies.
[References: The rank of Commandant is equivalent to that of Lieutenant-Colonel. The heroic story of Gideon Scheepers during the second Anglo-Boer war.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Valley Of The Dolls
Into the valley of the dolls
Into the valley of the dolls
Into the valley of the dolls
Went the gang of four
Song number one and the rhythm up amping
Drummer beats down 4/4 rock ranking
A bass so deep thud thud spines shaking
And all around mad eyes are rolling
Made up and stunning
As the feet get moving
As the pressure rising
White faces staring
As into the valley of the dolls
- go the gang of four
Song after song rockettes up rocking
One hundred watts scream man
My ears are bleedin
Hot bodies charged blonde locks a givin
And all around - young girls are fainting
Their hearts a pumpin
As the spikes are dancing
Shank girl shanking
I saw love vibrating
As into the valley of the dolls
- go the gallant four
Into the valley of the dolls
Into the valley of the dolls
As into the valley of the dolls
4 skulls are splitting
5 fingers are clicking
6 strings are burning
7th hour approaching
8 legs are stomping
9 lives are groovin
10 thousand coasting
X generating
As into the valley of the dolls
Into the valley of the dolls
Into the valley
Into the valley of the dolls
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Valley
Wake hard in the morning.
See the young girl milking.
Stream rushing by on a bed of stone.
Old goats and sandstone cracking --
All containing --
Squeezing that river like it squeeze your bones.
In the long red, red valley people live here too long.
In the long red, red valley they only sing the valley song.
Some bad people living further down the valley,
Not easy for us to do good trade.
We got snowmelt, snowmelt sweet water.
They got that valley road that they made.
In the long red, red valley people dying here too long.
In the long red, red valley they only sing the valley song.
Holding hands on the hillside.
Showing love to your brother --
Your sister and your mother --
But we hate those people down the valley.
Has anybody seen moses?
Get him off that mountain.
Bring back the tablets of stone.
Its a wise, wise prophet who keeps his own council.
Yeah, leave the other mans wife alone.
In the long red, red valley people live here too long.
In the long red, red valley they only sing the valley song.
Wake hard in the morning.
See the young girl milking.
Stream rushing by on a bed of stone.
Old goats and sandstone cracking --
All containing --
Squeezing that river like it squeeze your bones.
In the long red, red valley people living here too long.
In the long red, red valley they only live the valley song.
In the long red, red valley people dying here too long.
In the long red, red valley they only know the valley song.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rock & Roll Star
I was just a boy when the river ran dry
And I can still remember my mama cry
She said son leave as fast as you can
But dont waste your life in this rock n roll band
I saw the light and left as fast as I could
I knew deep down it was gonna do me good
So I threw my fender in an old friends car
I knew Id come home a rock nroll star
So we hit the road but the road hit back
We thought wed take the world with a hit and run attack
Now Im center stage but it feels bizarre
Despite new cars and caviar
An overnight success created by the press
But theyll eat you up if you show them any stress
So I lick my wounds and I hide my scars
The whole world thinks Im a rock n roll star
Rock n roll star, rock n roll star
Thats what they call you
Thats not what you are
Rock n roll star, rock n roll star
I still wanna be a rock n roll star
So we got a break in our whirlwind tour
I called home said Im comin home for sure
Im tired of hurry up, make the plane, jump in the car
Im home on loan, Im a rock n roll star
song performed by by Reo Speedwagon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bazonka
Say Bazonka every day
That's what my grandma used to say
It keeps at bay the Asian Flu'
And both your elbows free from glue.
So say Bazonka every day
(That's what my grandma used to say)
Don't say it if your socks are dry!
Or when the sun is in your eye!
Never say it in the dark
(The word you see emits a spark)
Only say it in the day
(That's what my grandma used to say)
Young Tiny Tim took her advice
He said it once, he said it twice
he said it till the day he died
And even after that he tried
To say Bazonka! every day
Just like my grandma used to say.
Now folks around declare it's true
That every night at half past two
If you'll stand upon your head
And shout Bazonka! from your bed
You'll hear the word as clear as day
Just like my grandma used to say!
poem by Spike Milligan
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For Those About To Rock We Salute You
For Those About To Rock (We Salute You) (1981)
Who Made Who (1986)
LIVE (1992)
SINGLE: Big Gun/For Those About To Rock-Shoot To Thrill(live) (1993)
(Young, Young, Johnson)
We roll tonight [We're on tonight]
To the guitar bite
Yeah, yeah, oh
Stand up and be counted
For what you are about to receive
We are the dealers
We'll give you everything you need
Hail hail to the good times
'Cause rock has got the right of way
We ain't no legend, ain't no cause
We're just livin' for today
For those about to rock, we salute you
For those about to rock, we salute you
We rock at dawn on the front line
Like a bolt right out of the blue
The sky's alight with the guitar bite
Heads will roll and rock tonight
For those about to rock, we salute you
For those about to rock, we salute you
For those about to rock, we salute you
Yes we do
For those about to rock, we salute you
Oooh, salute!
Oooh, ooooh yeah
We're just a battery for hire with a guitar fire
Ready and aimed at you
Pick up your balls and load up your cannon
For a twenty-one gun salute
For those about to rock - fire
We salute you
For those about to rock, we salute you
Those about to rock - fire
We salute you
Fire
We salute you
We salute you
Come on, whooa
For those about to rock, we salute you (x4)
Shoot, shoot (x2)
For those of you, for those who ????
Yeah
(Ain't gonna get tired, won't take a break, we salute you.)
We salute you (x3)
Fire
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Olney Hymn 4: Jehovah-Nissi: The Lord My Banner
By whom was David taught
To aim the deadly blow,
When he Goliath fought,
And laid the Gittite low?
Nor sword nor spear the stripling took,
But chose a pebble from the brook.
'Twas Israel's God and King
Who sent him to the fight;
Who gave him strength to sling,
And skill to aim aright.
Ye feeble saints, your strength endures,
Because young David's God is yours.
Who order'd Gideon forth,
To storm the invaders' camp.
With arms of little worth,
A pitcher and a lamp?
The trumpets made his coming known
And all the host was overthrown.
Oh! I have seen the day,
When with a single word,
God helping me to say,
'My trust is in the Lord,'
My soul hath quell'd a thousand foes
Fearless of all that could oppose.
But unbelief, self-will,
Self-righteousness, and pride,
How often do they steal
My weapon from my side!
Yet David's Lord, and Gideon's friend,
Will help his servant to the end.
poem by William Cowper
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The Sermon in the Stocking
The supper is over, the hearth is swept,
And in the wood-fire's glow
The children cluster to hear a tale
Of that time so long ago,
When grandmamma's hair was golden brown,
And the warm blood came and went
O'er the face that could scarce have been sweeter then
Than now in its rich content.
The face is wrinkled and careworn now,
And the golden hair is gray;
But the light that shone in the young girl's eyes
Has never gone away.
And her needles catch the fire's light
As in and out they go,
With the clicking music that grandma loves
Shaping the stocking's toe.
And the waking children love it too,
For they know the stocking song
Brings many a tale to grandma's mind
Which they shall hear ere long.
But it brings no story of olden time
To grandma's heart tonight,--
Only a ditty quaint and short
Is sung by the needles bright.
'Life is a stocking,' grandma says,
'And yours is just begun;
But I am kniting the toe of mine,
And my work is almost done.
'With merry hearts we begin to knit,
And the ribbing is almost play;
Some are gay-colored, and some are white,
And some are ashen gray.
'But most are made of many a hue,
With many a stitch set wrong,
And many a row to be sadly ripped
Ere the whole is fair and strong.
'There are long plain stretches without a break,
That in youth are hard to bear;
And many a weary tear is dropped
As we fashion the heel with care.
'But the saddest, happiest time is that
We court and yet would shun,
When our Heavenly Father breaks the thread,
And says our work is done.'
And the children come to say good-night,
With tears in their bright young eyes;
While in grandma's lap, with broken thread,
The finished stocking lies.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Winter In The Rio Grande Valley
In the Rio Grande Valley it's winter again,
Cold northerly winds and misty rain.
Grey skies rolling southward fill the sky,
And the sun is hiding, somewhere up high.
What a dreary scene the winter brings,
Bare tree branches and dying things.
We don't like winter too much down here,
But here in the valley spring is always near.
In two or three days it will be eighty again,
The sun will be out, and and gone will be the rain.
The wonder of living deep down Texas way,
Is that winter just lasts a couple of days.
1/12/11 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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Sixty Years Ago
I
The double-blossomed peach-trees with rosy bloom were gay
When grandpa rode beneath them upon his courting way,
From the white gate to the homestead they stretched in stately row,
And showered his path with petals, just sixty years ago.
His riding suit was spick and span, his jingling bridle rein,
Was polished to the limit, his top-boots shone again;
A mass of youthful vanity, from curly head to toe,
Was my darling gay young grandpa – just sixty years ago.
Upon the broad veranda, demure my grandma sat,
And hid her girlish blushes beneath her garden hat,
Her dainty flowing muslins enfolded her like snow;
Ah! Very sweet my grandma was, just sixty years ago.
With sweeping bow and fluttering heart he told his hopes and fears,
And grandma gently said him ‘Yea’, mid blushes, smiles and tears.
When the double-blossomed peach-trees with fruit were bending low,
Good Father Flynn united them – just sixty years ago.
II
There’s a sound of mirthful revel in the dear old home to-night,
Where the merry young folk frolic ‘neath the incandescent light,
Jazzing on the broad veranda, listening to the radio,
Knowing wonders quite undreamt of in the days of long ago.
On the vine-enclosed veranda, sits my grandpa in his chair,
And the flower-scented night winds stirs the white locks of his hair;
Grandma sits and smiles beside him, happy in the young folks glee,
Such a dainty dear old lady, ever young at heart is she.
And the harvest of their labours in the moonlight stretches wide
All the land they’ve won and toiled for as they struggled side by side,
In their brave old eyes no shadow from the griefs of gone-by years,
For their hearts beat high within them – dauntless breed of pioneers.
Hand in hand they sit together, while the angels smile above,
On their long unbroken record of faith, sacrifice and love;
From the double-blossomed peach trees come the petals falling slow,
Bringing sweet and fadeless memories of Sixty Years ago.
poem by Alice Guerin Crist
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Comin Home
(allen collins -- ronnie vanzant)
Its been so long since Ive been gone
Another day might be too long for me
Traveling around Ive had my fill
Of broken dreams and dirty deals
A concrete jungle surrounding me
Many nights Ive slept out in the streets
I paid my dues and I changed my style
Seen hard times. all over now
I want to come home. its been so long since Ive been away
And please, dont blame me cause Ive tried
Ill be coming home soon to your love to stay
I miss old friends that I once had
Times aint changed and Ill be glad when I go home
I dont know why the thought came to me
But why Im here I really cant see. and now...
I want to come home. its been so long since Ive been away
And please, dont blame me cause Ive tried
Ill be coming home soon to your love to stay
Coming home to stay
Coming home to your love, mama
Ive seen better days
I miss old friends that I once had
Times aint changed and Ill be glad when I go home
I dont know why the thought came to me
But why Im here I really cant see. and now...
I want to come home. its been so long since Ive been away
And please, dont blame me cause Ive tried
Ill be coming home soon to your love to stay
Coming home to stay
Coming home to your love, mama
Ive seen better days
song performed by by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Till All the Bad Things Came Untrue
BY blacksoil plains burned grey with drought
Where desert shrubs and grasses grow,
Along the Land of Furthest Out
That only Overlanders know.
I dreamed I camped on river grass
In bends where river timber grew—
I dreamed, I dreamed the days to pass
Till all the bad things came untrue.
I dreamed that I was young again,
But was not young as I had been,
My path through life seemed fair and plain,
My sight and hearing clear and keen.
No longer bent nor lined and grey,
I met and loved and worshipped you—
I dreamed, I dreamed the days away
Till all the sad things came untrue.
I dreamed a home of freestone stood
With toned tiled roofs as roofs should be,
By cliff and fall and beach and wood
With wide verandahs to the sea.
I dreamed a hale gudeman and wife,
With sons and daughters well-to-do,
Lived there the glorious old home life
And all the mad things were untrue.
From blacksoil plains burned bare with drought
Where years are sown that never grow—
From dead grey creeks of dreams and drought,
Through black-ridged wastes of weirdest woe,
I tramped and camped with fearsome fare
Until the sea-scape came in view,
And lo! the home lay smiling there
And all the bad things were untrue.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Jehovah-Nissi. The Lord My Banner
(Exodus, xvii.15)
By whom was David taught
To aim the deadly blow,
When he Goliath fought,
And laid the Gittite low?
Nor sword nor spear the stripling took,
But chose a pebble from the brook.
'Twas Israel's God and King
Who sent him to the fight;
Who gave him strength to sling,
And skill to aim aright.
Ye feeble saints, your strength endures,
Because young David's God is yours.
Who order'd Gideon forth,
To storm the invaders' camp.
With arms of little worth,
A pitcher and a lamp?
The trumpets made his coming known
And all the host was overthrown.
Oh! I have seen the day,
When with a single word,
God helping me to say,
"My trust is in the Lord,"
My soul hath quell'd a thousand foes
Fearless of all that could oppose.
But unbelief, self-will,
Self-righteousness, and pride,
How often do they steal
My weapon from my side!
Yet David's Lord, and Gideon's friend,
Will help his servant to the end.
poem by William Cowper
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Grandma's Old Piano Was Sold
grandma's piano is old.
she died ten years ago
being the second wife of grandpa.
my mother is her second child
that she sent to piano school
but father found her and married
her when she was still 18.
and i was born as their fourth
child. Mother knows how to play
the moonlight sonata which father
loves to listen at night when
i learn how to smile and laugh.
One day Papa found another woman
whom he said made him new again
and he left Mama.
One day Mama died and Papa married
that woman.
One day i left home.
One day the piano was sold
One day the piano was taken to another
town so far away from us.
One day, all these things, the piano, Papa
and my step mother are forgotten.
But then the Moonlight Sonata comes again
One night
From another piano nearby.
The keys are no longer made
From elephant tusks like grandma's old piano.
Not the off white of ivory.
So white and smooth like a well brushed teeth
of a very young boy.
I like to hear it when he learns
how to gnash.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Strong Beer
“What do you think
The bravest drink
Under the sky?”
“Strong beer,” said I.
“There’s a place for everything,
Everything, anything,
There’s a place for everything
Where it ought to be:
For a chicken, the hen’s wing;
For poison, the bee’s sting;
For almond-blossom, Spring;
A beerhouse for me.”
“There’s a prize for every one
Every one, any one,
There’s a prize for every one,
Whoever he may be:
Crags for the mountaineer,
Flags for the Fusilier,
For English poets, beer!
Strong beer for me!”
“Tell us, now, how and when
We may find the bravest men?”
“A sure test, an easy test:
Those that drink beer are the best,
Brown beer strongly brewed,
English drink and English food.”
Oh, never choose as Gideon chose
By the cold well, but rather those
Who look on beer when it is brown,
Smack their lips and gulp it down.
Leave the lads who tamely drink
With Gideon by the water brink,
But search the benches of the Plough,
The Tun, the Sun, the Spotted Cow,
For jolly rascal lads who pray,
Pewter in hand, at close of day,
“Teach me to live that I may fear
The grave as little as my beer.”
poem by Robert Graves
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This crowd did not diminish through the whole of that cold, wet day; they seemed not to know what was to by their fate since their great benefactor was dead, and though strong and brave men wept when I met them.
quote by Gideon Welles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I Was A Young Girl
(A Song of Old Ballads)
WHEN I was a young girl, all in a green arbor,
When I was a young girl in Springtimes gone by
All the long days I went singing and smiling,
Down by the roses the sweet days beguiling,
Love in the arbor and love in the sky . . .
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, how happy was I!
Oh, the long days I must sit at my sampler,
Oh, the slow way that the still time would go!
I longed to be running across the bright heather,
'Off with the silk gown and on with the leather,
Following the raggle-taggle gypsies, oh!'
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, a long time ago!
When I was a young girl in days that were golden,
When I was a young girl, and life had no smart,
All the world seemed a place for my playing,
Full of great lovers to come to me, saying,
'Madam, I give you the keys of my heart . . .'
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, and dreaming apart!
When I was a young girl, I dreamed of my lover,
A tall cavalier who should whisper me low,
'Love, on your lips are red roses a-blowing,
I am your true love, and fast is time going
Am I your true love? Oh, say yes or no!'
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl–
When I was a young girl, a long time ago!
When I was a young girl there came my true lover,
Swiftly I knew him in glad days gone by;
Never a sword or a lovelock or feather,
But oh, at his touch 'twas our hearts came together,
Love in the arbor and love in the sky . . .
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, how happy was I!
poem by Margaret Widdemer
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