Tag Archive: Gypsy


Embrace the Moon!


From Gypsy Spirit Wind:

“The moon is a loyal companion.
It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Every day it’s a different version of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human.
Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections.”
―    Tahereh Mafi,    Shatter Me

484867_550291975014559_1904461306_n

About these ads

Hunger!


Blunt Everlasting

Blunt Everlasting (Photo credit: boobook48)

A warbling sound:

not birds, a pan flute.

Blunt knives shiver in anticipation and,

hunger sharpened,

call out for the Gypsy to come

and whet their appetite

for things bloody and raw.

Dreaming of cutting and slashing

and the work to be done.

Come, Gypsy, come!

Fingers Faster than the Eye!


I have a good friend, who has a tapas bar back home and who is also a magnificent flamenco guitarist and singer. I thought of him just now and decided to look him up on Youtube, because he was going to make a CD he told me. He is not there, but one of his colleagues, who goes by the same name of (Juan) Carlos Montoya is also a virtuoso and I embedded it over here to give you a taste of what my friend sounds like. My friend’s name is Juan Carlos Montoya y Montoya, which is one hundred percent Gypsy!

By the way, the name “Flamenco” comes from the Flemish emperor Charles the fifth, who graciously allowed the Gypsies to express their very own special culture and music, which had been denied them under the Catholic Kings Fernando and Isabel. Enjoy…

The Tears of Marie Anne


Death kissed a gypsy caravan

to claim one of the Romni clan

and as her life ebbed with the day

her last act was to wipe away

the tears of Marie Anne

The father grieved so for his wife

in deep despair he took his life

no goodbye note for his son Thad

nor daughter Marie Anne so sad

who suffered in their strife

Marie Anne was just three years old

she went to speak with Nadyagold

a soothsayer of great renown

‘Come my child, sit thyself down

and thy fortune shall be told’

The old dabrani shook her head

‘I see a dull brown room, she said

bare and gloomy, smells of rot

dark and dreary, fearsome hot

with a greatcoat for a bed

‘Thy must beware my little one

for evil to thee will be done

here is a hex that thy can use

if thou should suffer from abuse

then thy vengeance will be won’

‘Death will follow who are cursed

be warned this cannot be reversed’

and as the old soothsayer spoke

ancient words of the Romni folk

loud claps of thunder burst

 ‘Thad he will go’ advised the man

‘to an orphanage in East Ham

Marie to one in Bishopsgate’

his words did naught to mitigate

the tears of Marie Anne

The matron of the orphan’s home

saw Marie Anne stand all alone

clutching tight her battered case

she saw her sad, bewildered face

and she took her as her own

The principal was Jude Baptiste

for kids he cared not in the least

thick leather belt used as a strap

an arrogant and odious chap

and his nickname was ‘The Beast’

 

Thirteen years passed by too fast

Marie Anne lived for the past

she missed her brother’s smiling face

she yearned to feel his firm embrace

that had never been  surpassed

Baptiste came to the girl so fair

stroked her face and stroked her hair

‘Come with me my little one’

took her hand and they were gone

to climb the winding stair

Behind the wooden panelled door

a small room of dull brown decor

bare and gloomy, smelled of rot

dark and dreary, fearsome hot

with a greatcoat on the floor

Baptiste took his prey so pretty

and showing not a trace of pity

nor any sign of tenderness

tore off her yellow orphan dress

and took away her chastity

‘Now that thy has done thy worst

with this amria thou art cursed

and guaranteed a place in Hell’

Marie Anne cast the gypsy spell

as the clouds of thunder burst

The matron damned the evil man

when Marie told her of his plan

and as she tried to comfort her

dampening her shoulder were

the tears of Marie Anne

Pleas for mercy would not be heard

whenever his desire was stirred

using her for carnal pleasure

abusing her at his leisure

he could not be deterred

One day Marie heard matron call

‘A man is waiting in the hall’

‘She said “Please bring him here to me’

she had no doubt who it would be

she had no doubt at all

Baptiste opened the panelled door

and closing it behind him saw

beneath the coat a huddled form

he spoke above the brewing storm

‘Come hither my gipsy whore’

But when the coat was flung aside

Marie did not beneath it hide

instead a man who now stood tall

and pushed Baptiste against the wall

and The Beast was terrified

Thad drew up his gleaming sword

‘Harm me not’ Baptiste implored

‘No wrong I’ve ever done to thee

so who art thou to threaten me?’

Outside the thunder roared

 

Thad hissed ‘The kith and kin am I

of someone thy did mortify

now for my dear young sister’s sake

vengeance I have come to take

‘tis time for thee to die’

‘Please slow thy haste sir I appeal

There’s something that I must reveal

gold pieces I have very many

to thee I will give every penny

Sir can we strike a deal?’

‘If thy galbi were a hundred fold

justice can’t be bought and sold

money cannot sheath this blade

my sister’s honour I’ll not trade

for a bag of tainted gold

And now I must fulfill my quest

and send thee to be Satan’s guest’

and as the mighty thunder roared

Thad thrust hard upon his sword

deep into Baptiste’s chest

Baptiste screamed in fiery Hell

inside his dingy, stinking cell

bare and gloomy, smelled of rot

dark and dreary, fearsome hot

and recalled the gypsy spell

Thus Marie Anne’s new life began

she leaned down from the caravan

to kiss one that she loved so well

and on the matron’s face there fell

the tears of Marie Anne

Romni – Romany,

Amria – Curse,

Dabrani – Fortune Teller,

Galbi – Gold

 

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 3,668 other followers

%d bloggers like this: