Wild

Wild

I was found in the wild
Told I was lost
Made to wear shorts
and put on a shirt
I am now civilized
On the inside or outside?

I was happy in the wild
Unencumbered by cloth and shoes
I was happy to jiggle
I didn’t know what it was
Till they told me
I just liked the air as it coursed between my legs

I am lost in the city
Men’s ways confound me
I couldn’t care less for the fork
My fingers hold the stew
Better than the metallic spoon
They said Silver was for the ears
Then I found it on the table

I lost the plot
They lost the plot
I didn’t know there was a plot
Which plot?
The one where I give up the freedom of the wild
For the shackles of the city?
No, not that one. may be the other?

I was sent to school
I wrote words on paper
Then I wiped with paper?
It was hot on the inside
Moving leaves told of cooling breeze
So I took to the trees

I left the shorts and the shirt
Neatly folded on the patio
While they watched animals on the video
Why? The Owl was on the fence and the Aardvark in the field across the road
I am free once again
They can call it jiggle while they giggle
Me, I just like the air as it courses between my legs
Out here in the wild

24-01-2013 20:53pm (Freedom Hall)

Home Alone …

It’s Saturday evening and I am home alone (well not literally, there are a few other people in the house but I am alone for all intents and purposes). I could dress up, hop in the car and do what? Roam the city? I can’t be  bothered. I think such things should be done in pairs (in company).
So I think I will re-visit a path I have thread before since I am feeling blue.
I love all genres of music, and songs from all ages. But the oldies have a certain special place in my heart. And even narrowing that down further would be the category of songs that are called by various names including “tragic love songs” and “teenage tragedy songs”. I am including the lyrics of one of my all-time favorites below – “Tell Laura I love her”. I believe I heard this song first on some lonely day back when I was in the boarding house during my secondary school days.
To counter the “blues” effect, I am also including the lyrics of a song “Jambalaya” I first heard/learnt at a YMCA camp a very long time ago when I was little (Nigeria was different then). Jambalaya is one of those folksongs you sing in company at any time – the more the merrier!

Tell Laura I lover her

Laura and Tommy were lovers
 He wanted to give her everything
 Flowers, presents, but most of all, a wedding ring
 
He saw a sign for a stock car race
 A thousand dollar prize it read
 He couldn’t get Laura on the phone
 So to her mother, Tommy said
 
Tell Laura I love her
 Tell Laura I need her
 Tell Laura I may be late
 I’ve something to do, that cannot wait
 
 He drove his car to the racing grounds
 He was the youngest driver there
 The crowed roared as they started the race
 Around the track they drove at a deadly pace
 
No one knows what happened that day
 Or how his car overturned in flames
 But as they pulled him from the twisted wreck
 With his dying breath, they heard him say
 
Tell Laura I love her
 Tell Laura I need her
 Tell Laura not to cry
 My love for her will never die
 
Now in the chapel where Laura prays
For her poor Tommy, who passed away
 It was just for Laura he lived and died
 Alone in the chapel she can hear him cry 

Jambalaya

Goodbye Joe, me gotta go, me oh my oh
Me gotta go, ole the pirogue, down the bayou
Oh my John, the sweetest one, me oh my oh
Son of a gun, we’ll have big fun, on the bayou

Jambalaya and a crawfish pie and filet gumbo
’cause tonight, I’m gonna meet, ma cher amio
Pick guitar, fill fruit jar, and be gay-o
Sun of a gun, we’ll have big fun, on the bayou

Thibodaux, Fontaineaux, the place is buzzin’
Kinfolk come, to see my john, by the dozen
Dress in style, go hog wild, me oh my oh
Sun of a gun, we’ll have big fun, on the bayou

Jambalaya, and a crawfish pie, and filet gumbo
’cause tonight, I’m gonna meet, ma cher amio
Pick guitar, fill fruit jar, and be gay-o
Sun of a gun, we’ll have big fun, on the bayou

Settle down, far from town, get me a pirogue
And I’ll catch, all my fish, in the bayou
Swap my mon, to buy my John, what he need-o
Son of a gun, we’ll have big fun, on the bayou

Jambalaya and a crawfish pie and filet gumbo
’cause tonight, I’m gonna meet, ma cher amio
Pick guitar, fill fruit jar, and be gay-o
Sun of a gun, we’ll have big fun, on the bayou