Refugee – Sunday Morning Sketch

It was after the workshop Rich & I did for Refugee Week – when everyone wrote poems – that I found I had some words on the go too. So, the following Sunday morning I figured out a piano accompaniment. I recorded a sketch on my Walkman, and that was the title sorted: Refugee – Sunday Morning Sketch.

lyrics refugee

Listen up my friend, I won’t be coming back
I took a leap of faith to the unknown
I may be safe, I may be not, I leave you everything I’ve got
Except the memories, but that’s ok.

Brothers and sisters, I won’t forget
The earth, the sea, the stars, the sky
And everything that’s in between, the beauty of the swathes of green
The land that made us what we are today.

The village bell that chimed our play
The spice and citrus call for tea
A marble I found in the dust
And kept inside a wooden box
That dog that hung around the yard
With sad black eyes and hopes to run
To distant hills. It’s just too hard
To think about it anymore…

Brothers and sisters, I won’t forget
The earth, the sea, the stars, the sky
And everything that’s in between, the beauty of the swathes of green
The land that made us what we are today.

Hours of practice in the sun
The bow’s weight in my small hand
At eventide, arpeggios
And dreams of times to come
The manuscript, the concert hall
The cellos and the violin
A hand drum in a quiet room
And we begin to play.

Brothers and sisters, I won’t forget
The land that set me on my way
I’ll take it with me, hold it close, and bathe in memories when I dare
It’s ok my old friend, it’s just ok

© 2013 Lou Duffy-Howard

Loudhailer UK

Refugee VocalIt was after the workshop Rich & I did for Refugee Week – when everyone wrote poems – that I found I had some words on the go too. So, the following Sunday morning I figured out a piano accompaniment. I recorded a sketch on my Walkman, and that was the title sorted: Refugee – Sunday Morning Sketch. Yesterday we spent the morning in Element Studio with excellent producer Dan Foster where we recorded a finished version. I took along my Cutlass and added a bass line – it’s always great to play some bass. Rich took a photo of me outside the studio in the sun and Dexter took some photos of us working in the studio. What a lovely way to spend the morning. Listen to it here…

Rich and Dexter took some photos, click on an image to enlarge and scroll through…

Visit our Loudhailer Website Photos and music…

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Film editing this week

editing mawf
Interview with Richard and Louise

We spent a day last week editing the My Ancestors were French Celebratory Event film at the Lincoln School of Media. Janice had done a great job putting a draft together. There’s just a bit more to do. Quentin is working on the Refugee Week workshop film which is nearly ready too.  Looking forward to seeing the finished films.

Refugee Week Workshop Poems and Illustrations

Adam's Tree
Adam’s Tree

Here are some of the beautiful poems and illustrations created at our My Ancestors were French workshop at Creator College for Refugee Week.

Click on an  image to enlarge and scroll through…

Jack’s Poems

It was really good to meet and chat to Jack and to talk about guitars, poems, Creator College and the workshop. Here is Jack’s evocative poem…
Jack Beaumont

Fields
Rolling Colours
Forged by thought
Lordless lonely long nights
Open

Mountain ancient lost
Keepers of the beautiful
Life stained, the eternal

Thunderous ink clouds
Smudged dirty impenetrable
Lovers of misery
Lingering over buildings

By Jack Beaumont

Alison’s Poems

Alison’s Refugee Week poems from the Creator College workshop.

Alison Lewis
Alison’s Poems

Chinquapin

Fear
Leaving home
Family has gone
Where do I go?
Safety

Hope
Hard travel
Harsh people around
Wish I was home
Safety

Haiku

Mountain
Above the farmhouse
Shelter water and profile
Threatening and safe

Three Words

The Tree
Planted in spring
Water and sunshine
Thirty years on
Now in woodland

By Alison Lewis

Lilybeth’s Poems

Lily Writing

Goodbye Loved Ones

I’m leaving now
I’m going away
To my lovers
I can’t stay
It’s not you
It’s just me
A new country
That is me
A fresh start
A new life
A different culture
Will shine bright
Goodbye my friends
I’m going now
A new life
I start now

Lilybeth

My name is Lily
I’m a flower
With flower power
With my personality
I shine bright
Share my story
It’s my life
In new places
I share life
What I have
Is my personality
I am polite
In new places
What I offer
It’s my name
Lily the flower

Lily's Poem in Colour

By Lilybeth Goodwillie

Sydell’s Poems in Golden Ink

Here are Sydell’s Poems, for our Hull Refugee week workshop, beautifully written in gold…

Faith

The Auricula Suite

I am drifting
I am following
Following the crowd
Crowds of leaves
Leaves are descending
Descending into fear
Fear of unknown
Unknown language spoken
Spoken broken words
Words of foreigners
Foreigners are scary
Scary foreign lands
Lands of people
People of England
England is beautiful
Beautiful green land
Land of unknown
Unknown foreign people

Horse
Shimmy, gallop
Bolt, shake, natter
Beauty, gentle, innocence, pride
Wild

Fig
Sweet, fruity
Velvety, soft, moist
Sweet, nature, touchable
Luxury, tempting
Edible, juicy
Exotic

Faith

What would you take with you?
My Nanas necklace

Three Words
The dog slept
The dog woke
The dog cried
The dog barked
The dog wagged

The love lasts
The love eats
The love gives
The love grows

The chef baked
The chef cooked
The chef chopped
The chef fried
The chef tired
The chef rolled
The chef proved
By Sydell Faith

Ilona’s Beautiful Poems

Ilona wrote and read these beautiful poems at the My Ancestors were French Refugee Week workshop at Creator College…

Heart
Emotional mirror
Squeezed so tight
Will it ever recover?
Shattered

Forget your mother tongue
And accept strange sounds as yours
No choice left for you
Ilona in Green
Three Word Poem – The Air

The plain lands
And doors open
The air here
Smells so different

Vast flowery meadows
Lively smelly farms
Bread just baked
All is missing

Instead of all
Smog and dust
And fish shops…
So very strange

Why would you
Leave all this
And swap it
To such uncomfort?

“Some things happen
Time to go.
Try to find
Eager for experience”

Letters
Through the door
They pop inside
To make me
So very happy

“We send you
All our love
Just stay strong
‘Til the end”.

Every single postman
Bringing the letter
Made every morning
So much bearable.

Then the letters
Slowly got rarer
‘I’m still here!
I still remember!’

No more letters
To fill me
With home strength
For the end.

Yet, can’t stop
Thus I’m made
To find strength
Closer to me.

Ilona Urbikaite

Adam’s Poemed Illustration

We had a fabulous session at the My Ancestors Were French Exhibition, Workshop and Gig for Refugee Week on Wednesday. A big thanks to Alan, Mal and Sally at Hull’s Creator College for hosting the event.

There were some amazing and very evocative poems and art produced in the workshop that Louise & Amanda ran in the afternoon. Adam Wilson is the artist in residence at Creator College. His is not an illustrated poem, but a poemed illustration, ‘Stranger’.

Adam's Poemed Illustration
Adam’s Poemed Illustration

Strangeness made Stranger
Language gap broadened
Nuances subtly lost
Meaning crisply missed

Adam Drawing