You are afraid
To write in English is your burden
You fear the grammar of the white man
You are afraid of its intricacies
why?
because your heart is not?
don't mind it, you simply want to share with full respect
to use their language
you could have used your own and be smooth with its facilities
but you also want to be a part of this world
to think american to speak english
who know if
He finds your poem good
Enough if
He feels the beating in your heart that
There is a flow
Of gladness
In your own way of being a part of this humanity that
There is joy
In your outlook that
You have a certain projection
About love sickness death redemption life
who knows?
Honestly
Now go
Write the language where you are
At home
Write the meaning of your riddles
At your convenience
Do not be afraid of English or Indian
Strictures
do not be afraid to commit mistakes
do not be afraid to go to prison
You will speak your language
You will sing your own song
you have been in this prison
for how long?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
yes, what if God does not speak english at all?
you were not born yesterday
and probably heard it before
that if your God does not speak english
then he must not be God
of course, something arrogant
hangs in the air
of this effortless superiority that
'englishers'
'english-plongplangs'
clai m, which, of course, we
always oppose and dub
as prettry dumb silly
but anyhow, yes, we are asked again
what if?
what if, this God, does not really speak English?
well, of course, he is still God
and he must not have considered the english language
that important
and i agree, even if i speak it,
i still have this language
of my soul,
albeit, in english, for you,
who does not speak my own language,
yes, of course, for you to perhaps
understand,
but i like it though, this thought
that God does not speak
the english language, lest, he may sound
so englishly, oh well,
arrogant.....
dear God
do you really...not speak english?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Language That The Poor Wants To Speak
do you speak good English?
do you take pride in it and then use it to impress others
and swindle them
into a belief that they are inferior?
they have feelings too
of humiliation
which even in such a sad state
wish that their humiliation
speak good English still
they always think that English will give them
a good job
a better standing in the society
a flare of fashionable tongue
you make them cry
but still they want to speak that cry in English too
foolish!
but can you blame them?
you who hold that power and might
you who have taken all what they once had
and made them
worse within
themselves
despite which,
they still want to be like you
to speak like you
a god
how sad!
you have never known the language of love
the grammar of generosity
the syntax of sympathy
that language that good English
sometimes has forgotten
to utter
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Finglish
I am from Finland and i speak 'Finglish'!
Because i am learning the English language and,
It always infuses with my Finnish.
I am learning to keep me going but,
I do speak my English like 'Finglish'! !
And i always try to enforce the truth of my peace like,
The subconscious act from my mind to muse up things:
But i am unaware of your love.
Try to keep me informed on this love and,
Try to teach me the English language so that i cam be with you;
For the heavens and the earth do know how i do speak.
Keep me on the tracks of your love and teach me more!
For one day i will learn the English language very well;
And i will be ready to teach you my Finnish language as well.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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This is America: Better know English
America was once the magnificent place
Where all immigrants wanted to escape
So they illegally come here, as illegal aliens
Hiding in the back of our American vans
Now our schools and jobs require multiple languages
When we’re the Americans, we’re supposed to speak English!
And we do and just because they don’t
Doesn’t mean their language is a demand we should know
Don’t come to America if you don’t know the language
I’m just being realistic, I’m not being racist
Don’t put up store signs if they’re not readable
You’re in America; English is the main language you should know
Then they’re pissed because people won’t help out their business
But their forgetting us Americans don’t speak their language
We don’t go to Mexico demanding English classes
So why should they own the right to demand us Spanish?
I love the language, and everything BUT
THIS IS AMERICA look our history up!
Then tell me if French should be required
Where in the hell in the time line is that desired?
I know this is the land of opportunity, land of the free
But we should be able to communicate as human beings
And if that’s just too hard no one said they had to stay here
They can go back where they came from and speak in harmony there
I’m just a full blood American, as so the rest of my family
And like others, our language should be the first they’re demanding
We're tired of going to our fastfood restaurants to eat
When the orderer of our order can't even speak
And buyers, don't buy our house
If you can't even pronounce our street out
I'm tired of security going through all our private equipment
I'm an American, Bitch, do I look like a terrorist?
Honestly, you can come here if you want to be
Since this is the best place of opportunity
And we don’t care if you speak 20 different languages and love them
But this is AMERICA, ENGLISH better be one of them!
poem by Sugar Bear
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Who's To Blame
Oh Mother Ghana; Mother Ghana
What has happened to you?
What has happened to your culture?
They say we've fold arms against 'Vernacular' language
Instead opened arms wide to 'English' language
Oh Mother Ghana Mother Ghana
Why?
At school, we are taught the things we do not know
By the 'English' language
Why not 'Vernacular' language?
Oh Mother Ghana, Oh Mother Ghana
Where is your true identity as pure African?
Where is your pride as true Ghanaian?
Oh Mother Ghana, Oh Mother Ghana,
Day after day
When we put on the uniform as students
We are forbidden to speak 'Vernacular' language
Instead the 'English' language
Why Mother Ghana, why Mother Ghana?
When we speak 'Vernacular' language; your culture,
They say: 'Speak English' someone's culture!
When we speak 'English' that someone's culture
They say: 'Abrofosem; speak vernacular language' your culture!
Oh Mother Ghana, Oh Mother Ghana
Who's to blame?
'English or Vernacular language'
Oh Mother Ghana; Oh Mother Ghana.
poem by Francis Julian Zewu
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Afraid?
Too many people are afraid to speak.
Is it because they're too damned weak?
Afraid to stand out
afraid to shout
or just plain afraid and meek?
Too many people are afraid to yell.
Is it because they're afraid of hell?
Afraid of the crowd,
afraid to be loud
or just plain afraid of death's knell?
Too many people are afraid to hear.
Is it because of what they fear?
Afraid of the unknown,
afraid to be shown
or just plain afraid of what isn't clear?
Fear, fear
It is always here.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter XCVI: Fear
I don’t afraid of being old, I’m only afraid of being weak
I don’t afraid of being ugly, I’m only afraid of being useless
I don’t afraid of being nameless, I’m only afraid of being not loved
I don’t afraid of being lost, I’m only afraid of being blind
I don’t afraid of being dumb, I’m only afraid of being hopeless
I don’t afraid of being poor, I’m only afraid of being ungrateful
I don’t afraid of being loser, I’m only afraid of being coward
I don’t afraid of being bound, I’m only afraid of being fake
I don’t afraid of being wrong, I’m only afraid of being oblivious
I don’t afraid of being suffered, I’m only afraid of being surrender
I don’t afraid of being alone, I’m only afraid of being bored
I don't afraid of being loss, I'm only afraid of being lied
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Fear Of Dying
I'm not afraid of standing still
I'm just afraid of being bored
I'm not afraid of speaking my mind
I'm just afraid of being ignored
I'm not afraid of feeling
and I'm not afraid of trying
I'm just afraid of losing
And I am afraid of dying
Without you yes I do and I hope that you do too
Without you yes I do
Without you yes I do and I hope that you do too
Without you yes I...
I'm not afraid of being sick
I'm more afraid of being well
I'm not afraid
Put the gun in my hand
I'm just afraid it will hurt like (hurt like) hell
I'm not afraid of screaming
and I'm not afraid of crying
I'm just afraid of forgetting
And I am afraid of dying
Without you yes I do and I hope that you do too
Without you yes I do
Without you yes I do and I hope that you do too
Without you yes I...
Fear of
Fear of
Fear of
Fear of
I'm not afraid of looking ugly
I couldn't care what they say
I'm not afraid of happy endings
I'm just afraid my life won't work that way
I'm not afraid of forgiveness
I absolve you everything
I'm not afraid of lying...
But I am afraid of dying
Without you yes I do and I hope that you do too
Without you yes I do
Without you all I do is sit and think about you
Without you yes I...
song performed by by Jack Off Jill from Clear Hearts Grey Flowers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Write, Write, Write
Write in the language you dream in.
But this had never made sense
as far as I remember, I’ve never dreamt in nouns and verbs,
but always in huge boxes,
or dark abandoned malls,
or long flights
where my slippers are lost and my baggage,
missing.
Perhaps i should write in the language
that wakes me
That keeps me restless,
that feeds my hunger,
that reminds me that
i am alive.
it’s a matter of hearing
the heartbeat of one’s words
I can’t wait for more writers to write
Perhaps if the work of critics and teachers
will eventually bear fruit,
it will not be too far off that the streets of my town
will one day be filled again
with the lyrical lilt of my own language
I also can’t blame those
who continue to write in English
and live
in English
which is easy to dismiss as snooty
and elitist,
and alien—
even if it is the same village street,
the same home
that is being woven into words.
A tongue only becomes alien
when we keep it at the gate,
at the door.
The stranger is only as strange
as when we do not know his name,
and he does not know ours.
the job of the writer is not really
to master his language,
but to make it his own.
Not just to study its syntax
and shape but
to invite it into his home.
To kidnap bored English from the court offices
and banks
and schools,
and bring it to our beautiful messy rooms.
To tell it our stories,
whisper into its ear
our dreams,
and if the timing is right,
and the intention is clear,
then to show it our hearts
and we’ll begin to write.
Really really write.
Without guilt.
* reflections by L.L. YPIL
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Language I Feel Most At Home In
THE LANGUAGE I FEEL MOST AT HOME IN
The language I feel most at home in
Is not my own.
My own sacred language
Is my second best.
English is too great for me
And I am not like Joyce
Able to contend with and transcend it –
I write my small lines in the language
Shakespeare is the glass of fashion and the mould of form of –
I one more minor actor in a cast of many millions
Play my words upon the page as best I can.
But why mind and remember me and mine
When there are so many and so so much far greater?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Why Do I Write
I write from my sadness
I write from the madness
I write because I have something to say
I write to pass the day
I write only from the heart
I write for sometimes I am not that smart
Whatever is in head just comes out on paper (in this case a word document) , and I go with the flow
Write to let my mind go
I follow my hand to where ever it takes me
I write all the things that I can see
I write when I am happy, but not as much
I write from my heart that you can touch
I write because I’d go insane
I am driven to write quell my pain
At times I feel alone so I write what I am feeling
I write for it is self-healing
Confident not so I write it all away
I write and write to pass the day
I write to comfort my soul that cries out in the night
I write for love is always out of sight
I write so I don't have to cry any more
I write for I have no one to adore
I write so someone somewhere will hear my plea
I write for someone is out there for me
I am lost and I the clown
I write to turn my frown upside down
I write to embrace the sadness I hide inside
I write with my heart opened wide
I write to silence the ghost
I write for I’ve been let down by the one I loved the most
I write through the stormy weather
I write for I am light as a feather
I am not a writer nor am I a poet
I write for the grief I do know it
I will write until I draw my last breath
I write because I'll die a lonely death
I have to write for strangers delight
I write because I have to write
I write for my own happiness
I write to relieve my stress
I write because I have no other choice
I write as if I was writing a letter
I write because I can’t do any better
I write because I am afraid not to
I write for this is what I do
I write for I give a damn
I write just because I am
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Cowardice or Intelligence?
I am afraid of the Darkness and the Light,
the Eyes that lurk behind the Trees of Honesty,
waiting to catch our Mistakes.
I am afraid that the End may be near,
that icy fingers will soon wrap around me.
I am afraid that the World will keep turning,
that Life will be allowed to be lived in the Shadows.
I am afraid that nothing is real, that I am a Puppet
being watched by the Children of the Stars.
I am afraid that Life could mean Nothing,
that I am here for Nothing, and will die in Darkness
and simply become part of the Earth for the rest of Eternity.
I am afraid of being Alone in this world,
that the Sky will crash down upon me
once my misery has reached its highest point.
I am afraid of becoming the Forgotten,
of being Remembered only as a civilian passing by.
I am afraid that You are not what You seem,
that You are the Eyes that watch and wait,
hoping that I will make the Mistake.
poem by Zoe Guillory
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Based Upon Their Ethnic Ties
If 'rules' of immigration,
Were applied many years ago...
To those who could not read or write,
Or speak the English language properly...
There would be fewer caucasians,
Irritated by productive aliens.
And even fewer still,
Igniting conflict over what rights they have.
Since many of them have risen to heights,
Of incompetence.
Based upon their ethnic ties!
Only the American Blacks,
Have been purposely disenfranchised.
And treated like extraterrestials 'allowed' to visit.
With limited assistance to sustain themselves.
If 'rules' of immigration,
Were applied many years ago...
To those who could not read or write,
Or speak the English language properly...
There would be fewer caucasians,
Irritated by productive aliens.
And even fewer still,
Igniting conflict over what rights they have.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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There Are Times When I Am Not Afraid To Die
There are times when I am not afraid to die-
But sometimes I am so afraid I frighten myself -
And other times when I don’t know exactly what I feel
Not to speak of the times I try to deny to myself,
When I somehow wish I was out of it and it was over already-
We live in these complexities and contradictions of feelings within ourselves-
Not only about Death but about so much else in life-
I am not afraid of anything now
But now I am writing and not really thinking about anything
But this poem-
Give me a little time-
I will be afraid so afraid of death I will be ashamed to tell you about it.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Irish Blood, English Heart
Irish blood, English heart
this I'm made of
there is no one on earth
I'm afraid of
and no regime
can buy or sell me
I've been dreaming of a time when
to be English
is not to be baneful
to be standing by the flag not feeling
shameful, racist or partial
Irish blood, English heart
this I'm made of
there is no one on earth
I'm afraid of
and I will die
with both my hands untied
I've been dreaming of a time when
the English are sick to death of Labour
and Tories
and spit upon the name Oliver Cromwell
and denounce this royal line that still
salute him / and will salute him forever
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Afraid
Do you, do you wanna bleed?
Do you, do you wanna live in vain?
Its only life
Shes so afraid to kiss
An so afraid to laugh
Is she runnin from her past?
Its only life
Shes so afraid of love
Is so afraid of hate
Whats she runnin from now? ?
Do you, do you wanna scream?
Do you, do you wanna face the strange?
Do you, do you believe?
Are you, are you afraid of change?
Its only life
Shes so afraid of this
And so afraid to ask
She hides behind her mask
Nothings ever right
Shes so afraid of pain
So afraid of blame
Its driving her insane
So insecure
There is no cure
Well, shes so afraid
Shes so afraid of death
Shes so afraid, afraid of life
The drama in her head
Getting louder all the time
Getting louder all the time
Shes so afraid, afraid to lose
Been so afraid of fame
Everyday she feels the same
Its driven her insane...
Its driven her...
Its driven...
Its...
Another broken pretty thing
song performed by by Motley Crue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Song About You
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
I would write about how
You’re all I can every think about
How you flood my dreams each night
How thinking of you takes my breath away
When I look up to the satellites
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
I would write about how
The long lost butterflies returned
How I hope my number you’ll dial
And how your memory smothers me with smiles
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
I would write about how
You were the only one
Who had enough of me to break my heart
And when love took over my heart
You tore it all apart.
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
I would write about how
I gave you my heart
Caught up in the thought
That we were off to a great start
But how you threw a damn dart
Right into the center of my heart
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
About how you crushed my heart
Not bothering to look back.
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
poem by Jess Schwarcz
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The Ikon
On a day like no other
In a time unique, in a place divine
Keep your eye on the ikon
Shining in the light of eternal mind.
I went to sleep a blind man
But when I awoke I saw
The legions of the lonely
See their faces, hear them call.
See how they hang on
Each one in a world of his own design
Listen to the ikon
Ringing in the sound of eternal mind.
And the music plays forever
And it captures every ear
And the sound of barriers crashing down
Is the sweet harmony you hear.
Still, be still
To strong, so be still
Much too long, come down
Be still, look around
Listen here, be still
Hear the sound, be still.
Still we are here
We are still
Will we sing sweet
Sing we will
Still we are here
We are still
Nil is a fear all is nil
Still we are here we are still
Spill it let go let it spill.
The question comes to mind
About what should be done
And how much of the old will die
That the new may be begun
But you dont have to be afraid
Of being alone with nowhere to run.
You dont have to be afraid
To look yourself in the eye
You dont have to be afraid not to lie.
Someone knows who you are
Someone watches over you
Someone knows how you feel
And someone feels the same.
So you dont have to be afraid
Never fear, for you are living in eternal mind
For those who still recoil
For those who fear the pain
Of peering oer the edge of
A new and different plane.
You dont have to be afraid
Whenever you go you come back again
So you dont have to be afraid
We live and we die
You dont have to be afraid to know why.
You dont have to be afraid
Whenever you go you come back again
So you dont have to be afraid
We live and we die
You dont have to be afraid to know why.
song performed by by Utopia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Afraid to Speak
There are words that my mouth is too afraid to speak.
I fear if I speak them then all that I know will be destroyed.
But then again I am also afraid if I don’t speak them I will never grow.
And without growth all I hold dear could fade away.
What should I do?
Should I live in fear and never speak the words?
Or should I take a chance and speak them in hope of growth instead of destruction?
I don’t know.
Who would believe a man as brave as I am would be afraid to speak three little words…?
“I Love You”
Share Your Love
Maurice white & garry glenn
Love is the light, gonna let it shine
Living each day, youre sure to find
Another heart thats warm and true
Shining the light in return to you
Share your love, dont try to restrain it
Love, dont need to be afraid to
Love, everybody get together
Let every heart, around the world
Do its part
The voice of love, ringing loud and clear
To every heart with a listening ear
Hostage of hate and these chain of fear
Send dr. love, they will disappear
Share your love, dont try to restrain it
Love, dont need to be afraid to
Love, everybody get together
Let every heart, around the world
Do its part
Youre number one, cause deep inside
Feelings still abide
Youre number one, you light the way
Night becomes the day
Youre number one, cause we feel its true
Yes, inside we do
Youre number one
Share your love, dont try to restrain it
Love, dont need to be afraid to
Love, everybody get together
Let every heeart, around the world
Do its part
song performed by by Earth Wind And Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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