But patrina kater ruhkendar, avendar kater kodo vesh 
                                      te le purden hi po o kodo baval!

              ROMANI ROOTS

                     A Poets' Passion

Here contibuters and our own members tell  poems of past and

present, of life and love  wether reality or fantasy,  and we invite you

to read and enjoy this wonderful talent - the passion that is poetry.

 

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All contents of this page are by kind permission and CANNOT be

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You will also find other poetry on our GYPSY POETS page, but

 due to the content of this poetry, we consider it unsuitable for

children.

 

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adults wishing to view it may contact us on:

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compositions may have been published on other websites,

we are an autonomous site and have only specific affiliations.

 

                                                The Road

 

I¿m settled on a site the way I¿d never thought I¿d be,
But always in my heart, the road is calling me.
The memories of my childhood running wild and free,
are always in my mind corsing longing deep in me.

In winter i am happy, to be pulled up on my plot,
For i know in winter to be settled means a lot,
But when i see the sunshine my feet begin to itch,
And i feel imprisoned, on this site I long to ditch.

The beauty of the road is not there for all to see,
Some in houses and on sites, are happy there to be.
They¿ve forgot about the good old days on the open road,
All they remember is the hunger and the dirty clothes.

But i remember raindrops falling on my trailer roof,
And the cushty trotting sound of the horses hoofs.
In every different town a cousin we would meet,
Setting round a yog at night, with them you couldn¿t beat.

In the morning in the summer as the day began
I¿d hear my father playing his accordion
Now on summer mornings all that i can hear
Is my chavvys with the telly blurring loudly in my ear

Fruit picking in the summer we always did in Kent.
In the cherry orchard was the best time that I¿ve spent.
If i could go back in time i know right where I¿d be
Setting on a cherry box as my father played for me.

©2008  Gypsy Roselousie Smith
 
 
                                       Old Gyspy blood

 

My father¿s a traveller an old gypsy man,
He lives in a trailer he calls his old tan,
He set¿s around a yog, till late in the night,
Story¿s he¿ll rockker to its almost day light.

My mother¿s a traveller with old gypsy blood,
Her heart filled with gypsy motherly love,
She knows how to cook to scrub and to clean,
She will bring a good shine, to any old thing.

They live in a trailer that sparkles and shines,
With china around there¿s all different kinds,
Crown Darby and Ainslie and lots off cut glass,
Collected by my mum in the years that have past.

They live on a site that¿s just out of sight,
There are woods to the left and fields to the right.
My father as a dog it¿s an old lurcker juk,
They go get a rabbet for my mother to cook.

On Sunday they have rabbet pudding or stew,
Wash down with tea and one cup won¿t do.
Mum makes the best tea we all know that it¿s true
That¿s why for my father no one else¿s will do

My father as a lorry it¿s an old transit truck
He takes it to work with his ladders on the back
He looks for a gronta to cut down her trees
If he gets her money then his eager to please

My father and mother are two of the best
Their love for us chavvy¿s we don¿t have to test
That¿s why their chavvy¿s all live around
Because no better place could we ever have fond

©2008  Gypsy Roselousie Smith
 
 
                                      Proud to be Gypsy

your proud of who you are


your fighting for the gypsy pride


and for that you are a star


so all you gypsy haters


step back and you will see


there invite you in there trailers


sit you down and give you tea


and when youve been there half an hour


you will start to find


there really just the same as you


honest true and kind


so proud tobeagypsy


keep up your gypsy pride


and maybe one day very soon


we can all live side by side
 
©2008  Jo
                          Make this our last Goodbye

A gypsy boy was leaving to go and do his time,
Because he¿d been a bad boy and he¿d commit a crime.
His gypsy girl was crying as she said good bye,
Because he really loved her he knew he¿d have to lie.

She felt her heart was breaking, like that she would die.
When she heard the words he whispered, as he said goodbye.
¿Gypsy girl don¿t wait for me, make this our last goodbye¿,
¿For I no longer love or want you no matter how you cry.¿

They took him to the prison and shut him in his sell,
And all that he could think about was his gypsy girl.
He know if he hadn¿t meet her he wouldn¿t feel this pain
But he knew to know her he¿d go through this again.

At home his gypsy girl was crying she couldn¿t bear the pain
For she knew by waiting still him she couldn¿t gain
To live with without her gypsy boy she really couldn¿t do
So with this wicked world, she knew that she was though.

It was almost ten years later when they set him free,
His thoughts were of his gypsy girl he wondered were shed be.
He knew he¿d have to find her and see her one more time,
 
Tell her she¿d always been with him in his heart and mind.
But when he went to look for her a headstone was all he found,
For she lay there beneath the earth in the cold hard ground.
 
©2008  Gypsy Roselousie Smith
                                    I want you to know

 It¿s almost time my pearly, that I¿ll have to let you go


But there¿s one thing my baby, i want you to know


I look at you and i wonder at the beauty that i see,


You¿ve turned out to be everything; i always wanted you to be.


You have pride and respect, and you hold your head high,


You please me in every way, even though you don¿t even try.


You¿ve picked someone to love, who loves you right back,


And he¿s a good choice; we both know that¿s a fact.

 

 ©2008  Gypsy Roselousie Smith
 
 

 

                                                As I stand
 
 
 
A life far away,
From Clan and kin.
So many things,
Yet to begin.

A world around me,
Uncaring and cold.
To my own values,
And honor I hold.

Keeping the memory,
Of my father near.
And holding close,
To all I hold dear.

Doing my best,
To teach and to fight.
About my people,
Their history and plight.

Manners and honor,
I hope all recall.
That much about me,
When I answer death's call.
 


©2008 Proud Romani with much loving help from my Lady

 

 

                                            Hurry Home


 Wherever you go my gypsy boy your never on your own,


Because my love go¿s with you no matter where you roam.


Your gypsy girls here waiting with you in my heart,


And I pray to god to keep you safe wail we are apart.


So think of me my darling boy, setting sad and all alone,


I¿m waiting with my empty arms for you to hurry home

 

©2008  Gypsy Roselousie Smith

 

                                   Kissed by the years
 

 
 Old to the eyes but young in my heart with my youth I just don¿t want to part,

Kissed by the years that¿s how they see me but inside my head
 
I just don¿t want to be.

My stories not other so I¿ve been told, but dreams are for the young
 
and I¿m getting old,

Wishes and dreams of what could have been are lost in the years,
 
well so that it seems.

Tear drops are useless so why do I cry?
 
Then fake this smile, when it¿s all a lie.

For the love in my life I know I should be glad and for wanting more I know
 
I am bad.

Lost in my world I seem always to be, my past or my further not what
 
I want it to be.

Longing and wanting so to be free but tied by so many things
 
that are stifling me.

Seeking and wanting yet never to have, longing unfulfilled feelings
 
I always have.
 
A long never ending unfulfilled road always I see,
 
reaching out forever in front of me.
 
 

©2008  Gypsy Roselousie Smith

 

 

                           A Plea to the Gypsy People
 
 
 My gypsy people let¿s not hate,

Let¿s unit and celebrate,

Our gypsy blood, our gypsy race,

Show this world we have a place.

Walk with pride side by side,

From the haters no longer hide.

Face this world hand in hand,

By our Romani roots it¿s time to stand.


Across this wonderful world,

We have our different faces,

For we come from different places,

But in our hearts we feel the same,
 
We¿re glad to claim our gypsy name.

We all have pride in our gypsy blood,

And for our gypsy race we all have love,

So let¿s unit and fight a peaceful fight,

Let them know we have our Romani rights
 
 

©2008  Gypsy Roselousie Smith

 

 

                             Only a Lifetime is enough

 Love me for a life time, for only a life time is enough,


To live without you by my side, would really be too tough.


So walk though this world with me, and always hold my hand,


For to love you for my life time, is all that I have planed.


Kiss me in the morning; love me though out our the night,


Wrap me in your loving arms, and always hold me tight.

 

 ©2008  Gypsy Roselousie Smith

 

 

                                                 My Billy

 

We were just chavvys when we run away, my Billy and me.

We didn’t know then just how hard things could, or would be.

All we really knew was my love for him, and his love for me.

 

We were really too young to be together, but to in love to be apart.

My love for my husband Billy filled ever part of my heart.

When I gave Billy his first son, I was just a girl of sixteen.

Billy was just one year more, when in this world a child we did bring.

 

Our first years together were hard, things were so vary tight.

 By the time we reached our twenties,. We thought we had won the fight

 Because we were now on how feet, life seemed so vary sweet,

 But tragedy was around the coroner, just waiting for us to meet.

 

We had a baby daughter; sally was our pride and joy,

 But the angels came and took her, and all I could do was cry.

I went in to a deep depression, I felt like I wanted to die,

But my Billy’s love for me,is what finely got me by.

 

i can't say my Billy's no angel,  his just a every day gypsy man,

working hard all his life, to make sure his family don't clam,

how life together aint been easy, we've had lots of ups and downs,

but in Billy my darling husband, my hero i know i  have fond.

 

when i had my Billy i was hansom, a beauty he would say he had fond,

with any beauty queen he would tell me, he knew i could stand my ground.

now the years have taken away my beauty, i can not tell no lies

 

 but the years cant take away the beauty i still am in my Billy's eyes

 

We both take pride in our family; we both love our two sons,

And we love our grandchildren, each and every one.

 Now the years have aged our bodies, pain as aged our souls,

But still in the arms of my Billy, I don’t feel old at all.

 

© 2008 Gypsy Roselousie

 

 

                                             Romanipe

 

 With black hair that glistened, like the light on her cheeks

Wavy and intricate, like the little town's streets

Her babe in her arms, singing songs of charm


They came like a pack of wolves, the horses woke, alarmed


One said; "t was by her i was conned!"


The rest sputtered and growled; "Let's get them gone!"



But their tongue she could not speak, and uttered HER words


They thought their fists would help assist her, recall the tonge she had heard



Clutching her child, protecting him from the lashes


The fire faded, as the blood strangled the ashes

Alone crying in the dark, they left him their to starve


Still wrapped in the protection of his heroic mother's arms


His voice travelled on the wings of angels


Far accross the skys and the guiding stars


...The same stars that when we are born, give us the strength of his mother's

songs

What came of the boychild?


Never he died, he grew tall and lives on


In each one of us, when the Roma spirit is strong,


When a chavvy is born

With black her that glistens, bringing manna on her wings


WE call it Romanipe,


In each of us her voice still rings

 

© 2008 Kiron Diamond

 

 

                                                My Love

 

 

 

 

Surrender your love to me my love and I will keep it safe

In my heart I’ll keep your love for there’s no safer place

Abandon your body to mine my love and take this gift I give

For I give the gift of me my heart, my soul, my body, my love, 

Let me taste your tender lips my love as we gently kiss

And we’ll float away together in heavens happiness

So hold me tight to you my love so I can feel so safe

Wrapped in your arms my love I know there’s no safer place

I love you with a passion my dear I need you with my heart

Surrender your self to me my love please never let us part

Your mind I can not help but worship you’re body I adore

And thought out the years I know I’ll love you even more

 

                                                ©2007  Gypsy Roselouise Smith  

 

 

                                Ode to a Gypsy Queen.

I’ve been a Gypsy man all of my life,
And had my share of problems and strife.
I’ve worked like a dog, blood sweat and tears,
Hard roads, hard old days, hard old years.

Each night before bed, I look up to the sky,
And sometimes I wonder, just how I’ve got by.
With no education, and hated everywhere I go,
A million times, I’ve heard the word “no”.

I’ve walked the hard miles, for many a year,
I’ve fought my demons; I’ve fought my fear.

I’ve struggled on up, life’s never ending hill,
Often I’ve wondered, from where comes my will.

But things aren’t always as bad as they seem,
My most valuable possession is my Gypsy queen.
Though life is hard, unfair, and can be so cruel,
My woman is my God, in my crown, the jewel.

We jumped over the broomstick, at age seventeen,
And for fifty long years, my saviour she has been.
Shoulder to shoulder, we’ve travelled through life,
Through thick and thin, I’ve relied on my dear wife.

When I have been hungry, she has kept me fed,
And when I’ve been drunk, she has put me to bed.
When times have been hard, she has knocked on doors,
God love her, I’ve seen her feet, covered is sores.

She has been my friend, my confidant, and my lover,
She is a cook, a cleaner, a workhorse, and a mother.

I’ve never laid a hand on her, that wouldn’t be fair,
Besides, she can punch like a man, I wouldn’t even dare.

She gave me eight children, each one fit and strong,
Though once again we are two, for the children are gone.
They’re all grown up now, and have families of their own,
But my wife and I are so close, we work better alone.

Some men dream of money, and those men make me sigh,
For I know life’s secret: something’s money can’t buy.
Money can’t buy you love, nor can it buy you a friend,
It cant give back your youth, nor a broken heart mend.

Possessions can be replaced, and as long as you have health,
Don’t neglect life’s essentials, don’t worry about wealth.
A kind word or a tender touch, from the woman you love,
Can cure all life’s ills; and life’s stress, make you rise above.

So to my woman, my sweetheart, I will say this to you,
With out you in my life, I don’t know if I’d have gotten through,
You’ve made me the man I am, you’ve defined my whole life:
My woman my darling, my very best friend, my precious wife.

 

© 2008 Righteous Levi Price 
 

                                           A Gypsy Wife

 

I was born a gypsy gel I want to live a gypsy life

And one day I want to be a loving gypsy wife

Married to my gypsy man I’ll love him all my life

And I’ll try to be for him the perfect gypsy wife

 

I’ll cook, scrub and clean and keep his chavys clean

And to his bed at night my love I’ll always bring

My eyes will never wonder and my love will never end

And always and forever I know I’ll be his friend

 

He will have no trouble or worry that I would not share

When he face’s trouble or worry he’ll face it as a pair

And if things should be hard and tight by his side I’ll be

Working just as hard as him is where I know I’ll be

 

We’ll rise how chavys right with respect and dignity

He will learn how son to work the way a man should be

I’ll teach how daughter self respect so decent she will be

So when we look up on chavys it’s proud that we will be

 

I know the days will pass the years will come and go

But though out all time I know how love will grow

When its time to leave this world and heaven I will go

If to god I must prove my worth this I surely know

 My love for my gypsy man is all I’ll have to show

 

©2007  Gypsy Roselousie Smith

 

 

                                            Gypsy Tears

 

 

Jerry Ficowski, Courtesy of USHMM)

I cry Gypsy tears
worth the struggle of a thousand years
Holding to what's dear, my ancestors whisper to me, so i have no fear

NOW i see it clear
From the hills of Northern Greece, my dear
where we are the colour of the land we walked
and the emerald seas are always near

The heart yearns for what it could not find
Longing... for the sounds that give sight to the blind
NOW i'm no longer silent, i no longer hide
A fire rages in my soul, my veins bleed music
My heart beats to the rythm of hoovebeats, always knew it

NOW i see it clear
From the fireside, amongst cinders dancing in the air
Where we are voices on the wind that echoed on the Spartan shield and spear

We are like the flowers we picked, our colors rich, and many
Our sweat the pollen to bees
Planting our roots in GOD'S world, it's not THEIR'S...
But they cannot see

I cry Gypsy tears, worth the struggle of a thousand years
Show no fear, nor crumble,
For your ancestors whisper in your ears

NOW.... now, i see it clear
why when i cry. i cry burning rivers
why i cry
Gypsy tears

 

© 2008 Kiron Diamond

 

 

                                   My Gypsy people

 

 I look around my gypsy people the pride I feel there’s none to equal

 

I was born a gypsy babe and I’ve loved my gypsy days

In a trailer travelling around every English country town

 

Now I'm settled on a site and I dream most every night

  Of days long gone by picking cherries climbing high

 

Setting round a yog at night as my father smoked his pipe

Rokkering  story’s about the past I wish them days could have last

 

Jelling to the lees on Sunday back to work hard on Monday

Working hard but having fun when the work was finally done

 

I remember lilymay all the games we use to play

 Pots and pan’s dolly house cook the tea clean the house

 

Running wild climbing trees dirty faces scabby knees

Full of health fit and free just the way kids should be

 

As we grow we got closer didn’t dream id ever lose her

To the fairs and the shows we bagged how daddy’s “could we go”

 

Gypsy boys where there to meet us cheeky grins there to greet us

"What’s ya name?" Are you courting?" Whose ya father?" Where ya stopping?"

 

Epsom downs I loved the best you should have seen the way I dressed

On the rides going fast I thought my heart had beat its last

 

In my trailer late at night when everyone was sleeping tight

I’d close my eyes and I’d dream of my man the love he’d bring

 

With gypsy babies we’d be blessed and I knew we’d have the best

Big brown eyes and coal black hair the kind to make you wonna stare

 

Days of fun have passed so fast but my memories always last

And if my life I could live again I’d wonna live it just the same

A gypsy gel among my gypsy people for I feel there’s none to equal

 

©2007  Gypsy Roselousie Smith

 

                                        THE OLD WAYS     

Borrowing the earth as they travelled around
Taking no more than what was needed
A people of natural magic and healing.

An ancient race long misunderstood
The Romany Gypsy is of my blood
Telling tales of long lost dreams
I hear the voices of our ancestors' scream

Clothed in deep mystery
Children of the wind
Keepers of secrets long untold
The ancient magic of the Gypsy of old

Once lived by nature's natural laws
Respecting their creator, acknowledging all
Te wind, the trees, the animals and seas
The winged-ones, finned-ones, two-legged and four
Were sacred to the Gypsy and the earth created them all

Every living thing has a voice
A spirit and intelligence of its own
If only we would listen, can the
Truth be heard and known

This was the real way of Gypsies of old
Living in harmony with the earth to whom we belong
For from her womb we come into life and back
To her body when it's our time to die

Keepers of nature, we once were free
To roam the land and protect the woodlands and trees
An ancient race in their own right
The Gypsy Traveller ought to be seen in this light.

 

 ©2007  LAURA SAKARA MARSHALL

 

 

                                 The Goldfinch Song.

 

I hear the Goldfinch, and then I try,
To imagine the world, from a birds eye.
All through the day, up on the wing,
Oh, what joy, to hear her sing.

On wet summer days, you’ll hear me sigh,
Where is my friend, from way on high?
They sing only for the sun, so I am told,
These little wonders, in gleaming gold.

Autumn days will soon be nigh,
And the birds will leave, for southern sky.
But soon to know, what pleasure will bring,
When she comes back to me, next spring.

Manys the time, I’ve sat all day long,
Hypnotised by the magic, of the Goldfinch song.
 

© 2008 Righteous Levi Price 
 

      FOR MY MOTHER: THE BRIGHTEST STAR

 

 

 You are the Brightest Star in the sky


The light and warmth of the Sun


Child of the Earth and the Sea


Queen Priestess of the Gypsies


Mother and friend to all


Laughter echoes and roars

 

Healing begins from your love


And blossoms and touches everyone!

 

©2007 LAURA SAKARA MARSHALL

 

 

                                      ROMANY ROOTS

 

Let us join once more to tell the tales of our Romany lore.


Our past heritage we cannot loose,

 Our children deserve to hear about their roots.


The storytelling around the fire and the hard work, 

The traveller aspired as they journeyed to find a place,

Where we can truly belong.


But where do the gypsies really belong?


We are a mysterious folk, only that which our forbearers know,

 Can we hope to find who we are.


Without our roots we cannot know this treasured kind of life.

The Romany spirit is like the wind.

These memories must be kept alive.

Our freedom gone, now where do we belong?

In houses like caged birds, we now live a new,

Our values and language has faded too!


What’s happened to our Romany ways?


But there still is a few Romany seers


That know more than most do.


They know to be true, our ways will fade too,


Until we are just a memory in books.


It is time to be proud and be who we are

And cultivate ourRomany roots!

©2007 LAURA SAKARA MARSHALL

                                             ANCESTORS

 Here on earth I roam


Wandering like my ancestors to find my true home


On my Mother’s body I dance like my ancestors


To awaken the magic within


To father sky like my ancestors I sing


And call the spirits


To Kam and Shon like my ancestors


I make love to honour the sacred union of life


To the sacred elements like my ancestors


I play my flute, drum and tambourine


To give thanks for all I have.

 

 ©2007 LAURA SAKARA MARSHALL

 

 

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