Song 11| Feeble Rights
It is obvious and I can see it in your mind
As you walk, aimlessly and eyes down.
You are always thinking as you walk
And this you do day and night.
You never straighten up your head
And your steps are always disoriented.
Even in the flurry of spring,
Your eyes are still small and squeezed.
You walk as if you are hiding something
And your own salutes betray you.
You are an alien, better you admit it
Or those who lent you feeble rights
Confiscate the little you have.
The streets on which you trot
Are hard and cold, very cold.
They were manufactured from bitumen
Acquired from the sweat of slave labor
The labor of vindictiveness.
The peace of the world you do not have
And neither do you possess joy.
You claim you stay in a paneled house,
Which is but a refreshing station
And a changing room
To which you only return at mid-night
To munch hard crusts of bread
Since you have no time to cook,
And early in the morning,
You run the monstrous machines
Which neither retire nor rest.
Song 12| Weird Thinking
The plight of an alien is his platitude.
You left your own country with a quest
Hoping to find gold scattered in the
Polished boulevards of trekkersland.
You had thought your own peoples
Were ruined and uncivilized,
You have used the term “backwards”
Time and again, as if your people
Aren’t even trying to make progress.
Prisoner of your own weird thinking,
Is almost suitable to you,
And your own languid motives cheat you.
You are never content, never satisfied.
Some people have better manners,
And better manners are bedrocks of
Candid civilizations.
Some people display mature ways of life
And do not ignorantly offend others
In the lands in which they are aliens.
Some are aliens on grants,
The benefits of which will never
Develop their deserted nations.
There were opportunities you never saw
In the land in which you claim
Nothing developmental goes on.
But now you say,
How I will be rich
When I return to my own country;
Such hypocrisy is huge,
Since kings are born, and not made.
Song 13| Industrial Towns
I see the rains pouring steadily outside.
The land is being watered for cultivation
And you are wondering why the waste
Since no clear land exists,
Only silhouetted towers and skyscrapers.
No pigsties exist, too,
Only idyll havens
Full of electronically operated motors.
There is no hoe for agriculture, either.
They have combine harvesters,
And long honked tracks and tractors
Which bring in corn, wheat and rice
In bulk supplies for sale and export.
There are transit carriers and long buses
Carrying busy and disheveled men
And blond and brunette women.
Industrial power is auto-run
While human labor works them in shifts
And their din never fades.
Such is the state of affairs in these
Industrial towns where gold is unheard of.
Alien, you only see automobiles
Which are feminine
Since their owners treasure them more
Than they care for their wives.
Cars outnumber the traveling public
And the outnumbered, control traffic rights.
Alien, you see all the beautiful surroundings
And they don’t belong to anyone
As owners have not paid for mortgages.
Song 14| Free Existence
An alien, is he only so because of birth?
If we should allow him to obey laws
Just as citizens do,
Can’t we also allow him to exist freely?
An alien is a dreamer,
Always dreaming of threats of relocation.
What if he does not have anywhere to go?
If his native land is infested by plagues
Or is invaded by other foreigners,
Or worse still, canopied by battle planes?
Is it only lack or poverty,
That pushes an alien to voyage?
He sees innocent policemen in dreams
Coming towards him and asking for papers,
Demanding that he shows them evidence
That he came in through right means.
By right means, they do not mean
Coming by chartered flights
Or in luxurious greyhounds,
But with authorization by the
Consulate of the nations
Which, too, exist in the alien’s country.
They talk about law and order and cops.
They count the alien’s steps and
Ensure that he does not exceed the limit.
Yet you seem to understand law and order
And you are more law-abiding than
The citizens of the nation in which
You seek refugee.
If you are law-abiding,
Why do you still think you are a foreigner?
Song 15| Dreams of an Alien
The dreams of an alien are weapons,
Horrendous and lethal.
His night visions are invisible
And well-plotted.
In his dreams, an alien can be free,
Free from fear of relocation and trespass.
In his night visions he can buy a house,
Find great a job and be an executive.
In his dreams all plants are green,
And all roads lead to bliss.
In these exotics all scenes are in summer,
No winter inconveniences,
And all settings are in late spring
With beautiful surroundings and flowers;
And all flowers are either daisies or roses,
And all roses are red and white.
But he wakes up, all about him
Is either blurred or suffocated;
How he longs for the night
When he can fall again and fantasize
And reach places
Too difficult for commoners,
And wear clothes
Too expensive for the jobless.
An alien’s dreams are sweet, too.
In the best of deep dreaming,
Ideas are laid and hatched in full,
Bearing green leaves and yellow fruits.
Here he is not imprisoned by his reason
But liberated by it.
Song 16| Schizophrenic
An alien is accused of being schizophrenic,
A mental disorder of ambivalence.
He is made to behave like one
Because he does not have enough sleep.
A man with rights is a small god,
Able to recreate and reproduce.
But a foreigner is like an impotent rich ruler.
“Once there lived an impotent emperor,
Who, due to sheer vanity,
Added one concubine to the numbers yearly.
The thing in between was but a haunch.
The young charmed maidens were wasting
Inside the marble palace.
They peeped through narrow lintels
For the courtiers who wear no silky apparel
And feed on no dignified a table.
Yet they have living hernias.
He was a king with a populous kingdom,
Extending from coast to coast,
And his queens lay flat-bellied
As flat as the king’s own dining table!”
So is an alien, in the land in which
His abilities are despised and ignored.
Song 17| Hope
An alien counsels, do not underestimate
The power of hope because hope outlives.
Hope in the land where you never wasted
Your umbilical cord.
Hope is a living thing; and has a heart.
Hope passes current inconveniences
And brings valued agendas to the brim.
“I hope in these hopeless terrains
Of landlessness.
In the midst of failure, l have seen success,
And I can reason why.
I walk with eyes down, an open mind and
With eclectic thoughts.
I allow not my independence to betray me.”
Though the land where you live is not yours,
Do not despise your economic potential.
It cannot be hijacked, but gives you power,
The ability to procreate and improve others.
Do not be reduced to a pathetic loafer,
And that, not even in your matrimonial bed.
But write books, on poetry or romance
And sell them on the internet or bookstores
And earn yourself a reasonable living.
In that way, you can sit down
And let your talents feed you.
Song 18| Rich People
The alien advises, there are rich people
And people with riches.
Rich people are rare and few in number
Since they have to have rich minds.
People with riches are large in numbers
But riches find wings and fly away.
People go to work daily, yet only little benefit.
I learned this because
I was once looking for reality’s old meaning
And stumbled on several laws of economics.
Streets are filled with movements of workers
Children go to fast restaurants for fatty foods.
They grow up obese or near to it
And are ashamed of themselves.
Others in nations where food is scarce
Deem it a blessing to be fat, even very fat.
When they get skinny,
They are ashamed of themselves
Because society might think
They suffer from incurable diseases.
Tax return brings future rebates.
I regret selling my house in my native land,
And now I move like a shadow
And a destitute in a foreign land.
“Time is Money” is true to the West
And “by grace we survive,” is to the South.
Song 19| Critical Thinker
An alien is not a stranger to critical
Thinking; he does engage his mind
In productive reasoning.
Truth is what always wins and stays
Untainted and unadulterated.
“Once there was a man determined
To defeated truth. He introduced his
Arguments with lies and supported
Them with lies. Then one day his
First born son was born and medical
Officials told him that he was a girl.
He disputed the fact with truth
Because he saw that the baby
Had no female features on it
And he would not give his child
A girl’s name. From that time on,
He respected truth and vowed
To say the truth and nothing
But the truth: and so God helped him!”
A truthful plan is not devoid of ideas,
It can only be neglected.
It is truth that foreigners are,
By relativity, very wealthy.
There is truth that they live
To invest since they might be asked to
Leave for their countries.
In your own country, critical thinking
Is rare because all you see is familiar
To you and to everybody else.
You are shaped in a predictable form
And good ideas are not easily conceived.
Good plans are rubies in strange lands.
Song 20| Race of Women
I was a stranger to the race of women
Until I had tied a matrimonial knot.
Beautiful, elegant women are very strange,
And do they really exist in strange lands?
“Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder”
As it applies to women, is very deceptive.
For after one marries and stays with her,
He ceases to see her face,
However pretty it is,
Instead one begins to see her heart,
However hidden it might be.
Women are sophisticated from afar,
Nearer they are not.
Their charm is not on what they put on,
But in what they neglect.
From afar, her lips are red and dripping;
Her eyes are doves and flying;
Her mouth is watery and inviting;
Her curves are divine and enticing;
And her voice is soft, as calm as streams
Of the quiet waters.
But what you don’t know about her
Is that she is a mystery,
As unpredictable as a chameleon.
Yet when she comes nearer,
And after you place her in your arms,
She is simply as delicate as rules of begging.
Those eyes are just large globes,
Empty sockets, but lively and beautiful
And strong men have paid for them.
She wears fashions of deceiving splendor
And you learn to love her
For the reality that you don’t even know.