Original Submissions by Northlander of type 'Songs'
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Splendour of the drunk
Added on Sep 7, 2006Northern rhymes approached in part or in whole by the liquor-bravest of tongue-wigglers.
It was last night after eat when I hardly on my feet went all my way off the seat,
balancing the tembo's teeth in a style not all too neat;
I tripped on a sculpture of wood and I saw not where it had stood, but wanting ever to make good,
(and not by barkeep thought a hood), raise it I still thought I should and ought as quick as I could.
And I grabbed it by the waist and then like someone well-crazed strove and pulled to have it raised,
and hoping I had naught defaced loudly I the carver's skill praised.
For now the early sun showed features of fresh mom in this sculpture of one.
Loud I lauded the painter for drawing skin not fainter, than this here my very own - vivid on this wood and bone.
Now yes, to mine left eye there was something awry with this paint hardly dry,
But my right focused sight on my plight and so tight (and not light)
I pulled now without complaint - unafraid of coloured taint,
Though it had texture that no hardwood should, lift as lighter wood hardly I could,
As strangely its wooden leg was bending when I tried my grip, ascending!
Loudly then to friends I wondered, how can wood weigh stones a hundred?
And I also wondered spoken, "How badly now have I blundered,
why does it bend as if sundered - say not that I have it broken?"
Then sudden as sky of clearness plundered - the world (and the tavern) loudly thundered!
It sounded just like a tell but I thought a table fell - and with it a large bone bell,
For I had a thick pint smoken and - sure - thought this but a token of the substances awoken.
Drunken two knots and was shoken - surely wood - surely wood could not have spoken?
But think you now this dread was but in my head - know then I was fed
Know that I now am sure that both spice and drink were pure - and wood on its own gave the roar,
High as any real person could - and all on its own then it stood this marvellous sculpture of wood!
And I swear now that high and hearty came the yell in midst of the party
No happy melody but known - my name to this fell wooden crone!
I was chased by the immense (like a small fool back to my stool)
but my friends came to defence and that wooden crone turned hence
(wiped with sleeves at nose's leaves) And on went that amply equipped
to stand anew where I had slipped, where I had keenly gone and tripped,
Standing watching others prance - refusing always to do dance
- fleeing the taking of chance - stiff as a stick in her stance,
Leaning to a dark wall as a kank in its stall - as in a trance - treating tavern as a cavern and me not with a glance.
Which was wrong, not cruel, it made her the fool - why, when last was touched that wooden thigh?
And so me and my friends nearby were raising glasses, toasting high:
To wooden loin!
Her pouch (now mine) was merely briefly full of coin.
It was last night after eat when I hardly on my feet went all my way off the seat,
balancing the tembo's teeth in a style not all too neat;
I tripped on a sculpture of wood and I saw not where it had stood, but wanting ever to make good,
(and not by barkeep thought a hood), raise it I still...
Continue Reading...Ivory to be - I advise
Added on Aug 29, 2006People-berating protest-ballad of Tuluki origin. Surfaced during the Red Desert War.
I advise you to sell dearly your obsidian;
that glistens so nicely with its sharpeties.
And is mined by northerners on knees,
who charge Tektolnes' whip their fees.
You help in that way to keep the order,
threatened by disorderlies.
Who stand, defend our border..
.. Who wish for a sword to squeeze.
I advise you to sit on your asses,
and quietly then draw your breaths.
In part live as others and time passes,
in part you'll bring ruin and deaths.
A better ground your ass'll never taste;
it has the flavour of Tuluki blood!
And like the needle pushed on by the thumb..
.. most obligingly succumb..
.. Without knowing what's to come..
And you've joined the line of time by suture -
Making Old Tuluk the future.I advise you to sell dearly your obsidian;
that glistens so nicely with its sharpeties.
And is mined by northerners on knees,
who charge Tektolnes' whip their fees.
You help in that way to keep the order,
threatened by disorderlies.
Who stand, defend our border..
.. Who wish for a sword to squeeze.
I...
Continue Reading...Childhood rhyme of the Warrens
Added on Aug 29, 2006Simple thing passed between the children and parentless of Tuluk's slums, often changing a bit on the way.
Muk who keeps the children safe,
see to me who's but a waif.
Wherever I in Ivory,
walk inked in your livery..
.. Luck will cry, luck will sing,
You remain, my Sun King.
Muk who keeps the children safe,
see to me who's but a waif.
Wherever I in Ivory,
walk inked in your livery..
.. Luck will cry, luck will sing,
You remain, my Sun King.
Continue Reading...When great was my need
Added on Aug 29, 2006From the street-poets of Tuluk - oftentimes accompanied by a wig.
When great was my need I went to Kurac,
dadeedadidaadoo-'I to Kurac.
For there craving goes for 'handful of black,
dadeedadidaadoo-'andful of black.
Weak and alone in the Outpost I was,
naught in my pipe and my mood with its flaws..
.. Yes alone in the Outpost I was.
I knocked on the door where a peddler housed,
dadeedadidaadoo-peddler was housed.
There opened a woman pale and just roused,
dadeedadidaadoo-pale and just roused.
Be friendly, I said, please let me come in,
I'm craving and spent but kindly as kin..
.. Do be so kind to let me come in.
'My man he is gone to torture a man',
dadeedadidaadoo-'torture a man'.
'And then must sniff through the spice the man ran',
dadeedadidaadoo-'spice the man ran'.
'Yes, peddlers work in a world of dismay',
'but gladly I'll help your problem allay'..
.. 'For the world is grim, bitter dismay.'
And here now I'll skip a verse maybe two,
dadeedadidaadoo-a verse or two.
Kuraci peddlers one oughtn't beshrew,
dadeedadidaadoo-ought not beshrew.
But nothing at all did my craving weigh,
and my mind shone with a smile on display..
.. when I finally went thereaway.
So therefore when craving sets to its worst,
with your body full of misery's thirst;
Do at the Kuraci door your hand try,
the peddler himself in shortest supply -
- You'll be eased and comforted like I.When great was my need I went to Kurac,
dadeedadidaadoo-'I to Kurac.
For there craving goes for 'handful of black,
dadeedadidaadoo-'andful of black.
Weak and alone in the Outpost I was,
naught in my pipe and my mood with its flaws..
.. Yes alone in the Outpost I was.
I knocked on the door where a...
Continue Reading...Our hours
Added on Aug 29, 2006Love-lyrics given with or without rhythm and paced in any fashion. No particular bard is tributed.
Suk-Krath burns under my feet
Making warm the still..
.. As your hands, it gives heat
Warm; it gives me will!
Under shadow I am sane
Will to kiss your lips..
.. The strongest warmth is pain
Caress with fingertips!
Red of Suk replaced by moon
Passion's death is calm..
.. Mem'ry cradles like a spoon
Sweetest kiss's balm..
As midday burns hearts' dissent
Evening chills the swooned..
.. Come night we fast and repent..
.. Lovely morning wound.
Suk-Krath burns under my feet
Making warm the still..
.. As your hands, it gives heat
Warm; it gives me will!
Under shadow I am sane
Will to kiss your lips..
.. The strongest warmth is pain
Caress with fingertips!
Red of Suk replaced by moon
Passion's death is calm..
.. Mem'ry cradles like a...
Continue Reading...
