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
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!
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…
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
