Poetry competition CLOSED 10th January 2015 1:16pm
WINNER
toniscales (Lost Girl)
toniscales (Lost Girl)
RUNNERS-UP:
snugglebuck
and hornyatmorn
Page:
This makes me proud
Poetry Contest Description
Write a poetry over anything of your country that makes you feel proud.
tags:EDELTRAUD 3 ===> THE PSYCHOBITCH ==> THROUGH NEED AND DECENCY => INTERTEMPORAL: ANY REBETIKO WILL DO => WEEKLY REPORTS
AVRA PALM
SATURDAY NIGHT
12/7/2014
WEEKLY REPORT 1
(for lovers of rebetiko rhythms, especially slow 9/4)
From every little bay and island port
tonight you will get the same report,
full moon, I'm full of love and absolute,
and I will sing for you on my long lute:
I may go to prison just for you,
Tsitsanis, Vamvakaris, you don’t know,
by them any rebetiko will do
to clarify my poetic flow.
CHORUS 1 (of yester year)
Any rebetiko will do,
to clarify what we do,
any rebetiko indeed,
to tell the truth of what we did.
I may smoke hashish or sniff cocaine,
or get intoxicated by raki,
the moonbeam on the Libyan, my blood stain,
D major tonight will be my key.
I make take a million photographs,
always the same subject, this moon rise,
to compensate for your sadistic laughs
that try to turn my verses into lies.
CHORUS
Any rebetiko will do,
for nothing will narrate more true
your inability to know
what makes the Libyan waters glow.
*****
I call you but you are in Netherlands,
the line is bad, the signal is too weak,
my girlfriend's gone, so, left with empty hands,
I hope that you reply by next week.
You sent a text for which I did not hope,
middle of the night, this black retains its blue,
to know this fact it is beyond your scope,
that's why any rebetiko will do.
CHORUS
Any rebetiko will do
to clarify or misinform,
such deathly danger is this blue,
without melody or form.
*****
At least on the bouzouki I'm still smart,
I'll make sure I play it damn well,
insert a spying cookie into your heart,
to crack your code and give you as much hell.
Another night I'm laying on a sun bed,
recalling dirty words of our phone sex,
and every night lantern turning red,
and... "Get It On" repeated by T. Rex.
CHORUS
Another love I'm searching through,
innocent, pure, exclusive, male,
any rebetiko will do,
to keep you out, it's not for sale.
I'm talking with a boy nearly five,
I still can hear your voice in the back ground,
we speak a different tongue but still we thrive,
this love will never die, Edeltraud.
At present it's your win and my defeat,
rebetiko can't have a total sum,
you manage it for now as you see fit,
the time to pay the piper will come.
CHORUS
Any rebetiko, your debt,
it's worth a million photographs,
send me a few, don’t you forget,
to save me from these foot ball buffs.
The same night my girl friend said "Good bye",
failing to read the truth between the lines,
't was a relief for me but I was shy
to tell her what rebetiko defines.
Another night I just got confused,
calling your number twice by mistake,
to nightly calls from me you're no more used,
although you are always awake.
CHORUS
"Why did you call?" you promptly ask,
as if to call you should be strange,
I think you've got a new found task:
Rebetiko's chaotic range.
I'm calling County Antrim, that is all,
today is the 12th day of July,
don’t make a big thing out of something small,
don’t ask me why I called, you know why.
William of Orange versus James, battle day,
for Irish people who have common sense,
I'm wishing you also to find a way,
and think of me correctly in past tense.
CHORUS
I can only say, "Fuck Android",
operating system with no clue,
I can only say, "Fuck your android",
just any rebetiko will do.
*****
So now you are the champion of the world,
I watched the final, well deserved the cup,
where Germany was great, you have been told,
it's not foot ball, you're reading the wrong map.
Champion, you're full of hate and obsolete,
from Bach to Berg your credit still is good,
full moon, you're full of crap and full of shit,
but I still love you cause your truth is nude.
CHORUS
Like old rebetes used to do,
killing or dying for what is worth,
any rebetiko will do
to mix my South with your North.
Full moon tonight in AVRA like once was,
chemical waste from Syria in debate,
I'm still the seaman that I never was,
you're still the fish so keen to bite my bait.
With this banal cliché as food for thought:
We fuck, therefore we are, that's all we do,
we have, but still we doubt, so we have not,
so true, any rebetiko will do.
CHORUS
Good night, my sunshine, sleep well,
thanks for those photos still in cue,
let's make the best of every hell,
any rebetiko will do.
AVRA PALM
SATURDAY NIGHT
12/7/2014
(for lovers of rebetiko rhythms, especially slow 9/4)
From every little bay and island port
tonight you will get the same report,
full moon, I'm full of love and absolute,
and I will sing for you on my long lute:
I may go to prison just for you,
Tsitsanis, Vamvakaris, you don’t know,
by them any rebetiko will do
to clarify my poetic flow.
CHORUS 1 (of yester year)
Any rebetiko will do,
to clarify what we do,
any rebetiko indeed,
to tell the truth of what we did.
I may smoke hashish or sniff cocaine,
or get intoxicated by raki,
the moonbeam on the Libyan, my blood stain,
D major tonight will be my key.
I make take a million photographs,
always the same subject, this moon rise,
to compensate for your sadistic laughs
that try to turn my verses into lies.
CHORUS
Any rebetiko will do,
for nothing will narrate more true
your inability to know
what makes the Libyan waters glow.
*****
I call you but you are in Netherlands,
the line is bad, the signal is too weak,
my girlfriend's gone, so, left with empty hands,
I hope that you reply by next week.
You sent a text for which I did not hope,
middle of the night, this black retains its blue,
to know this fact it is beyond your scope,
that's why any rebetiko will do.
CHORUS
Any rebetiko will do
to clarify or misinform,
such deathly danger is this blue,
without melody or form.
*****
At least on the bouzouki I'm still smart,
I'll make sure I play it damn well,
insert a spying cookie into your heart,
to crack your code and give you as much hell.
Another night I'm laying on a sun bed,
recalling dirty words of our phone sex,
and every night lantern turning red,
and... "Get It On" repeated by T. Rex.
CHORUS
Another love I'm searching through,
innocent, pure, exclusive, male,
any rebetiko will do,
to keep you out, it's not for sale.
I'm talking with a boy nearly five,
I still can hear your voice in the back ground,
we speak a different tongue but still we thrive,
this love will never die, Edeltraud.
At present it's your win and my defeat,
rebetiko can't have a total sum,
you manage it for now as you see fit,
the time to pay the piper will come.
CHORUS
Any rebetiko, your debt,
it's worth a million photographs,
send me a few, don’t you forget,
to save me from these foot ball buffs.
The same night my girl friend said "Good bye",
failing to read the truth between the lines,
't was a relief for me but I was shy
to tell her what rebetiko defines.
Another night I just got confused,
calling your number twice by mistake,
to nightly calls from me you're no more used,
although you are always awake.
CHORUS
"Why did you call?" you promptly ask,
as if to call you should be strange,
I think you've got a new found task:
Rebetiko's chaotic range.
I'm calling County Antrim, that is all,
today is the 12th day of July,
don’t make a big thing out of something small,
don’t ask me why I called, you know why.
William of Orange versus James, battle day,
for Irish people who have common sense,
I'm wishing you also to find a way,
and think of me correctly in past tense.
CHORUS
I can only say, "Fuck Android",
operating system with no clue,
I can only say, "Fuck your android",
just any rebetiko will do.
*****
So now you are the champion of the world,
I watched the final, well deserved the cup,
where Germany was great, you have been told,
it's not foot ball, you're reading the wrong map.
Champion, you're full of hate and obsolete,
from Bach to Berg your credit still is good,
full moon, you're full of crap and full of shit,
but I still love you cause your truth is nude.
CHORUS
Like old rebetes used to do,
killing or dying for what is worth,
any rebetiko will do
to mix my South with your North.
Full moon tonight in AVRA like once was,
chemical waste from Syria in debate,
I'm still the seaman that I never was,
you're still the fish so keen to bite my bait.
With this banal cliché as food for thought:
We fuck, therefore we are, that's all we do,
we have, but still we doubt, so we have not,
so true, any rebetiko will do.
CHORUS
Good night, my sunshine, sleep well,
thanks for those photos still in cue,
let's make the best of every hell,
any rebetiko will do.
tags:EDELTRAUD 3 =>>> THE PSYCHOBITCH =>> INTER-TEMPORAL: ANY REBETIKO WILL DO
Central Greece
Saturday Morning
29/11/2014
ARCH-FORM
1 FOR "AULD LANG SYNE "
Any rebetiko will do,
for all these countless reasons,
for all lost times that are due
and all the festive seasons.
This goes beyond my swift design
to sing about a lover,
it's more to do with "Auld Lang Syne"
crossing Calais to Dover.
Or crossing Dover to Calais,
or anyhow, sea crossing,
by plain, train, cabriolet,
forward my life tossing.
I thought of it as sweet life's spring,
rhythmic-melodic travel,
and wished it countless loves to bring,
for me to love and marvel.
Now I can claim that it did,
and still I feel its flow,
giving my life a new lead
with every song I draw.
2 EPHEMERAL CELEBRATION
The day is mild, the weather fine,
the sun is mostly shinning,
I drink this new autumnal wine,
my travels re-defining.
Always a thrill to go through Greece
and know what's all about:
You give a kiss, you get a kiss,
that leaves you with no doubt.
It is to freely do all things,
re-payment not expecting,
ephemeral to spread your wings
when no one is suspecting.
Welcome to Greece and to its blue,
or to its grim and gray,
any rebetiko will do
to celebrate the day.
A sudden fear came over me…
but it was only passing,
I've just imagined you to be
your old investments cashing.
3 ELFY GIRLS
The west is Thebes, the east Chalcis,
the south, Attica county,
the north expects me with a kiss
and with a glass of brandy.
I leave behind the exit road
that it could lead to Delphi,
in my abstraction thoughts are broad
for girls unreal and elfy.
Any rebetiko will do
to satisfy their longing
for lovers equally untrue,
to other worlds belonging.
There goes again that pointless song,
as there's no point to stop it,
was it all right, was it all wrong
for us to dare and drop it?
This broad high way to no place,
so near to give it credit,
a song describing your true face,
and done without an edit?
4 SECRET WISH
I could not say, I was not sure,
until I heard your echo,
recall that bar, that love so pure,
I think its name was "Gecko".
Any rebetiko will do
for any time transpassing,
I do like other crooners do,
but do it without rushing.
Let music go far back some times,
with forward aspiration,
in fifteen syllable old rhymes
which fit a true narration.
And if the narrative is long,
so are the lives that haunt it,
correct to call it "endless song",
cause endless keen ears want it.
The west was Thebes, the east Chalcis,
the south, Attica county,
I made for you a secret wish,
by-passing Atalanti.
5 BLUFFING
I left behind the Malian gulf,
in front lies gray mount Pylion,
any rebetiko, my bluff,
there are of them a billion.
I talked to Max, he came back tired,
so he won't be attending,
but as for me, I am all wired,
for singing and time bending.
I have a hope, I have a host,
I have my mandolino,
so if in Volos I get lost…
tough shit for pelegrino.
(That's my nick name, don’t be afraid,
for you I'm the old torture,
in algorhythmic, acid trade,
abstracted agriculture).
The trip to Volos takes too long
without some conversation,
it's just as well I've got this song
stopping my hibernation.
6 THREE MAST SHIP
So here I am in country roads,
national high way over,
singing this song, the fraud of frauds,
healing every fake lover.
Any rebetiko will do,
to ponder on its merit,
for we don’t know if it was true,
to skip it or to dare it.
To those who dare, to those who skip,
to those responding later,
I'm singing "bye-bye, three mast ship,
you were born for things greater!"
Nobody has got any clue
and no one has complain,
so any answer, gray or blue,
will serve as a refrain:
Any rebetiko will do,
in unison suspended,
like lovers dream, or fight, or woo,
in stories open ended.
Central Greece
Saturday Morning
29/11/2014
ARCH-FORM
1 FOR "AULD LANG SYNE "
Any rebetiko will do,
for all these countless reasons,
for all lost times that are due
and all the festive seasons.
This goes beyond my swift design
to sing about a lover,
it's more to do with "Auld Lang Syne"
crossing Calais to Dover.
Or crossing Dover to Calais,
or anyhow, sea crossing,
by plain, train, cabriolet,
forward my life tossing.
I thought of it as sweet life's spring,
rhythmic-melodic travel,
and wished it countless loves to bring,
for me to love and marvel.
Now I can claim that it did,
and still I feel its flow,
giving my life a new lead
with every song I draw.
2 EPHEMERAL CELEBRATION
The day is mild, the weather fine,
the sun is mostly shinning,
I drink this new autumnal wine,
my travels re-defining.
Always a thrill to go through Greece
and know what's all about:
You give a kiss, you get a kiss,
that leaves you with no doubt.
It is to freely do all things,
re-payment not expecting,
ephemeral to spread your wings
when no one is suspecting.
Welcome to Greece and to its blue,
or to its grim and gray,
any rebetiko will do
to celebrate the day.
A sudden fear came over me…
but it was only passing,
I've just imagined you to be
your old investments cashing.
3 ELFY GIRLS
The west is Thebes, the east Chalcis,
the south, Attica county,
the north expects me with a kiss
and with a glass of brandy.
I leave behind the exit road
that it could lead to Delphi,
in my abstraction thoughts are broad
for girls unreal and elfy.
Any rebetiko will do
to satisfy their longing
for lovers equally untrue,
to other worlds belonging.
There goes again that pointless song,
as there's no point to stop it,
was it all right, was it all wrong
for us to dare and drop it?
This broad high way to no place,
so near to give it credit,
a song describing your true face,
and done without an edit?
4 SECRET WISH
I could not say, I was not sure,
until I heard your echo,
recall that bar, that love so pure,
I think its name was "Gecko".
Any rebetiko will do
for any time transpassing,
I do like other crooners do,
but do it without rushing.
Let music go far back some times,
with forward aspiration,
in fifteen syllable old rhymes
which fit a true narration.
And if the narrative is long,
so are the lives that haunt it,
correct to call it "endless song",
cause endless keen ears want it.
The west was Thebes, the east Chalcis,
the south, Attica county,
I made for you a secret wish,
by-passing Atalanti.
5 BLUFFING
I left behind the Malian gulf,
in front lies gray mount Pylion,
any rebetiko, my bluff,
there are of them a billion.
I talked to Max, he came back tired,
so he won't be attending,
but as for me, I am all wired,
for singing and time bending.
I have a hope, I have a host,
I have my mandolino,
so if in Volos I get lost…
tough shit for pelegrino.
(That's my nick name, don’t be afraid,
for you I'm the old torture,
in algorhythmic, acid trade,
abstracted agriculture).
The trip to Volos takes too long
without some conversation,
it's just as well I've got this song
stopping my hibernation.
6 THREE MAST SHIP
So here I am in country roads,
national high way over,
singing this song, the fraud of frauds,
healing every fake lover.
Any rebetiko will do,
to ponder on its merit,
for we don’t know if it was true,
to skip it or to dare it.
To those who dare, to those who skip,
to those responding later,
I'm singing "bye-bye, three mast ship,
you were born for things greater!"
Nobody has got any clue
and no one has complain,
so any answer, gray or blue,
will serve as a refrain:
Any rebetiko will do,
in unison suspended,
like lovers dream, or fight, or woo,
in stories open ended.
http://i1317.photobucket.com/albums/t623/curlycue23/Gun1_zps6af9b083.png
PROUD AMERIGUN!
Guns…Guns…Guns
Glorious Guns
Root’n Shoot’n
Have some fun
Nothing say’s
“I’m an American”
Like your gun
One for everyone
Play the fife
Bang the drum
Here we come
Americans with guns
God did not
Make all equal
Colt did that
With his repeater
Guns…Guns…Guns
Glorious Guns
You’re no patriot
Unless you have one
Now praise the Lord
And pass the Ammo
Lock & Load
And wear you’re camo
Say ‘Aim-Men’
For Guns!
Glory to God
The shoot’n has begun!
http://www.lifeofanarchitect.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/statue-of-liberty-face.jpg
Lover of the Lost
Beacon Lady, lover of the lost,
when I see the diaphanous folds
of your blue dress,
the classic beauty and aquiline quality
of your face,
something in me burns
with pride and love and longing.
For your eyes are my only source
of welcome, of belonging.
When I walk the streets at night,
I am saddened by this new sense
of isolation among people,
this rampant disconnect. But when
my mind flies to you, I am held
in your liquid arms, cherished
like a babe.
Lover of the Lost
Beacon Lady, lover of the lost,
when I see the diaphanous folds
of your blue dress,
the classic beauty and aquiline quality
of your face,
something in me burns
with pride and love and longing.
For your eyes are my only source
of welcome, of belonging.
When I walk the streets at night,
I am saddened by this new sense
of isolation among people,
this rampant disconnect. But when
my mind flies to you, I am held
in your liquid arms, cherished
like a babe.
