Friday, February 15, 2008

Dick Jones's Blog


I would like to thank Dick Jones for sharing his wonderful blog with me, and for allowing me to share it with you all. Dick is a Poet and this is very apparent in this beautifully written blog, which contains many of his poems.
During the 1980's Dick did a lot of work with the Romany people, there is an account of this on his blog entry dated February 11th 2008, Dick kindly gave me permission to copy this onto my blog for you to read, please go to Dicks blog to see the accompanying photographs http://patteran.typepad.com/. I'm sure you will all find this a very interesting post, and many of you will enjoy the "family names" that are mentioned.
Nais tuke Dick, Kushti baxt phral x
Extract from Dicks blog;
The other day I came across a set of photographs that I took during my association with a group of Gypsy families in the 1980s. I wished I’d laid hands on them a couple of years ago when I posted a two-part piece on Gypsies. They would have made the perfect visual accompaniment to the section on the Yateley families.

I’m going to try the patience of my longer-term readers by posting now a slightly revised version of that account so as to provide a context for the pictures.

First of all, a poem that I wrote shortly after the funeral of Ellen Collins, a woman of extraordinary wisdom & judgement. Sadly, I can find no photos of her, although I can remember her posing with great dignity & grace for several shots amongst her collection of Crown Derby china.

BEBEE ELLEN’S MERRIPEN

Sometimes they stand in twos
and threes at the edge
of the road, arms folded,
eyes unfocussed, expecting nothing

but more of the same. Dogs bark
staccato over the pulse of generators.
Washing flickers between the vans,
random semaphore, and clocks

run slow. Sun rises over the warehouse,
sets behind the chain link fence.
But on Sunday old Aunt Helen died.
Inside her trailer mourners fidget,

watched by the gold-haloed faces
of her best Crown Derby plates.
No-one speaks but half-words form
in the gas fire’s popping, in the wind

around the broken door. Holding flowers
and a card he cannot read, brush-headed
Johnny, the boxer hero, racks tears
into a cushion. Sister Lizzie

glances sideways, gnaws a fingernail.
Traffic raises curtains in the rain
and Georgie stands where his mother
used to sit at night with her roll-ups

and her pint of tea. Arms folded
and his eyes unfocussed, he dreams
awake, pondering atavistic visions
of the fires of Little Egypt,

of the briar and the gorse,
of slower tides than these
that pull us all from history
and into the new lands.

*AUNT ELLEN’S DEATH in Anglo-Romani, the dialect of Britain's Gypsies.

...




THE YATELEY GYPSIES

My interest in Gypsies has its origins in pure romance. Many years ago I picked up a book called The Wind on the Heath in a second-hand bookshop. It was an anthology of historical writings about Gypsies & within a few pages I was entirely seduced. The depiction of a raffish, swarthy, inscrutable people living not within but at the edge of society, sleeping out under the stars, poaching in the greenwood, speaking an exotic tongue represented a heady vision of freedom & self-determination & breathed new life into the fading utopian dreams of the early ‘70s.

When, eventually, I put the books aside, took courage & encountered the real thing by walking onto an illegal site at Yately a few miles from my home in Farnham, Surrey, the trappings of myth fell away. Well, maybe not entirely: the raffishness, the inscrutability, the aura of authentic difference from the (largely inhospitable) host population remained a distinctive feature always. But the loud, raucous, demanding, suspicious, sometimes confrontational persona became for a while the reality. There were many times when – mistaken for a policeman, a council official, a bailiff, or simply seen as an intrusive stranger – I had to stand my ground & deal with bitterness, confusion & anger.

I gained some credibility with the Gypsies simply by being in a position to articulate publicly their argument in the ongoing debate concerning the status of the local unofficial Gypsy site. They wanted the site granted official recognition but residents were anxious to see the back of the settlers, citing the usual objections of plummeting house prices, rubbish left at roadsides, barking dogs & tales of thefts or incidents of violence that always seemed to have happened to some one else who knew someone else who was the victim.

So I wrote a series of letters to the two local newspapers, both widely circulated, signing them as from the families on the site. With something like 80% illiteracy amongst adult Gypsies at that time this was a service that made some sense. My letters provoked fury in various forms ranging from the barely literate to the eloquently inhumane. Whilst a few murmurs of support crept onto the letters page now & then, accompanied occasionally by moderate, entirely reasonable pleas for consideration of the needs of local housedwellers, the overall effect of providing a voice for the Gypsies was to poke a stick deep into the wasps’ nest. Through many of those extreme responses I had my first encounters with the ugliness & brute ignorance that underpins so much of attitudes towards Gypsies.

Gradually the implacable reserve & suspicion of the Gypsies with whom I was liasing melted away &, as I became more involved in the mass of practical issues that resulted from illegal encampment, friendships formed. Working principally with three or four leaders (never acknowledged as such by the others, never officially accepted as such by the men themselves), I obtained legal representation & we set about prosecuting Hampshire County Council for non-implementation of the Caravan Sites Act. The least we were able to achieve in the early days was the entanglement of the Council in so much procedural red tape that actions to evict were constantly delayed & postponed. The most we achieved in the long term (& it took several years) was the provision of an official site for all the families in a decent area away from housing, sewage plants & the motorway.

During the 10 years in which I was involved with Gypsy families in Surrey & Hampshire I experienced again & again their generosity, their dark humour, their resourcefulness, their optimism, their powerful allegiance to family & their deep, self-defining pride in their ethnicity. When I moved from Surrey I lost touch with the families. But I have many abiding memories of good times & bad - of warm caravans on winter heathland, across which blew the very winds that introduced me to the Romany dream years before; of pouring rain & ankle-deep mud through which bailiff’s Landrovers slithered, towing out the very same caravans… Of the following:
• Trips up to London with men in battered hats & Luton ‘traveller’ boots to talk with Saville Row-suited barristers in Lincolns Inn Fields.
• Striking deals with the property company that bought the land on which, at one time, the families were encamped - £100.00 per family to move off voluntarily, each family represented by how ever many caravans they owned (& Fuzzy Eastwood borrowing four tourers from his family in Berkshire & driving each one out in quick succession without being recognised by the paymaster at the gate.)
• The one tap in the centre of the Napley Road site from which all the families had to draw brackish, brown water & the local doctor (who was angry about the proximity of Gypsies to his five-bedroom house) unable to deduce why so many babies & young children were brought to him with gastric complaints.
• Eating jellied eels with Johnny Stevens, Georgie Collins & Bluey Bagley on the Derby Day hillside where, traditionally, Gypsies from all over Britain traditionally gather; listening to them speaking Anglo-Romani – the poggado-jib, or ‘broken tongue’ - & understanding virtually every word.
• Turning up one morning to a piece of rough ground at the bottom of a slope in Farnborough where the families had moved days before just ahead of eviction & being shown 12 variously charred car tyres that had been rolled flaming down the slope during the night.
• Watching 70-year-old Joby Cooper step-dancing inside a circle of wildly cheering, ecstatically drunk Gypsy men & boys at Misty Collins’ wedding.
• Arguing with a local Tory MP about obligations to beleaguered Gypsy families with nowhere to go as he posed for regional television cameras & being told (off camera) that since they weren’t householders & weren’t in rented accommodation they had no vote & thus fell outside his sphere of interest.
• Standing by an outside fire one autumn evening listening to 98-year-old Nofella Smith, Bui & Georgie Smith’s grandmother, reciting without pause for recollection & barely drawing breath, the names & interrelationships of all her ancestors back five generations.
• Taking photographs of Georgie Collins, Young Joby Cooper, Old Joby Cooper & his wife Esther, Johnny Stevens, Bui & Georgie Smith, Jackie Louder, Caleb & Mary Wenman on the opening day of the new official site; watching the breezy jubilation of the County Council officials, so proud of the results of their relentless & unsparing work for the Gypsy families; looking back at the impassive faces of the Gypsy men & women, displaying no gratitude to these fly-by-night local dignitaries, expressing if anything a quiet satisfaction at the successful culmination of 8 years of dogged, stubborn battle…
• Then of walking around the trailers, all drawn up onto their own hard-won pitches to say goodbye to the families on the eve of my move from Surrey to Hertfordshire.

22 Comments:

Blogger blue boy jones said...

i would like to thank you for your blessings when we did our petitions,
we did not get national roma day a holiday but we did get given a history month to hold, but as usal, some one has taken it from us and turned it into a month in june and we are about to go and protest again to get it back for april.
i have pasted my letter to all the people i could think to write to, and i thought i'd better pop it here as well,so you all can see what we are doing now,

you can help out if you all want to by taking the poll on www.youthdivision.moonfruit.com.

thank you so much for all your support
the email addy im using is me mums,
so if anyone would like to contact me about this then my email is on the web site

blue jones
p.s Dick ill post some of my poems here in a min tell me what you think





DEAR ALL,

there has been alot of debate around the month of which to hold our month, and we see that there is a website already up and running and jobs on offer, http://www.grthm.co.uk/
to which we at the youth division and the southern network federation have had no knowledge of until a week or so ago, which in turn will show you all that we are still not being consulted with on major issues that concern us at all.
there are a few gypsy and travellers that put themselves forward as representing us all, but please be advised they do not speak on behalf of the youth division and we require all organisations to consult with the youth committee about all issues that are of concern to us. this has truly been avoided as we are seen as not a matter, please be advised that under the un convention of the rights of a child and the every child matters and most recent The Inclusion of Gypsy, Roma and Traveller Children and Young People you have all broken a major part of your own policies, at what point were we included at the decision making process, ( we were not)

we do agree with the majority that there should be a month that all our history and cultures should be thought to the wider population but please be advised that this month should be decided with us, as you will need our input to be able to reflect the real life of Romany gypsies, Irish travellers and European roma of this country, as our biggest problems for a long time now has been others talking about and on behalf of us, this must stop to allow us the opportunity to teach ourselves and to grow confident in working with non gypsy and travellers, if you continue to speak on our behalves we will never be allowed to build the barriers that exist within our community and that of the settled population,

we at the youth division teach our schools, hold culture awareness days and write literature to go to all the youth sectors that ask for our help, we run training days and N.V.Q's for our under 25s that have not been to school, we are a constituted organisation that has youth members from across the country that need our help.
there are many other organisations like ours that have not been informed of the decision making process, which we feel and believe is wrong.

yesterday the 22nd of February two of our youth members attended a meeting at the federation of gypsy and traveller organisations southern network, where there was a vote held on behalf of which month they and we as the youth division thought we should be hold our history month, the out come of which will be sent to you all via the chair of the federation. none of which had been consulted with I might add. ( other than that of Jake bowers gypsy media company) who did not inform the rest of the organisations of there even being a consultation period for this month.

we would like to draw your attention to the website that has been made for this month, this is the view of the committee of the youth division,

we think the whole tone of this site is patronising, it continuously talks bout Travellers and Gypsies as 'they' not 'us'. Look at the history and culture pages for instance, the whole thing gives the impression that its been written by one group of people(gorgers) about another(Travellers) as if they couldn't be doing it by themselves. In our view it needs a complete change of emphasis, it should be written by Travellers who can use the words 'us' and 'we, some examples....

"They are also the most marginalised and continue to suffer extreme levels of prejudice and discrimination."
"And yet they have enriched our culture in so many different ways. ? but it does not state how ?
Gypsies and Travellers have developed their own traditions in music, story-telling, poetry, art and design, and dance.

"Their influence on artistic achievements in all these has been immense. They have helped forge such unique artistic expressions such as the art of flamenco in Southern Spain and sustain it today"

And once again it's all about quaint old dance and music, what about the Gypsy academics, engineers, soldiers, nurses, footballers etc.
it does not show or even include how we can help to break down those barriers, why? all the events advertised are in Leeds why?
( because we were not consulted)

we and all our youth have been campaigning and lobbing for the month of April for some 2 years now, also there were many before us and will continue to do so,

the reasons given to hold it in June are lame, here are our reasons to hold it in April with the reasons why !
1-30 Bowel Cancer Awareness Month; our community are so scared of this they will not even say the word cancer, it is down to us youth to raise the awareness of this nasty illness.

2nd of April International Children's Book Day ; this is a great day to encourage all gypsy and traveller children to get involved in a book fair and read.

7th of April World Health Day; we would be able to get all health sectors to hold events of even visit gypsy and travellers within their area to talk through health issues.

8th April international roma day, this day is all about helping to stop prejudice and hostility towards our people.

8-14 Mental Health Action Week; within our communities there is so much mental health issues that we feel that we could hold events and awareness days for our communities to seek help and not be afraid.

11 April World PD Day on (Parkinson's Disease); gypsy and travellers suffer from this illness as well, so we would be able to teach our own community about the illness and advise of all the help out there.

14-18 April Arthritis Care Awareness Week; this is another illness that our community are unsure about and in some cases they never seek medical help.
14-18 April National Depression Week; again another major problem our community suffer with, but do not seek medical help.

16th April World Voice Day; like all of this countries population we too have a voice, and we would like to have it.

22 April Earth Day; this will allow us to teach our community about the importance of a green country and the ozone layer, and what we can do to help, (this has never been done before)

April 23 global action education week, we are the most deprived when in comes to education and things must change and we will be looking at how we can change this within our own communities.

25 - 27 April Global Youth Service Day; we as youth are a big part of this day, as we are already working voluntary within the you sector, we could hold youth training days to youth that can not make are normal training sessions,
APRIL is also, Alcohol Awareness Month• Cancer Control Month • IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome)Awareness Month • National Autism Awareness Month • National Child Abuse Prevention Month • National STD Awareness Month,

as you can see, we are more than aware of all our community difficulties, as are all the other organisations like us, our month should not just be about history and culture and things of the past, it should be based on all of the above aspects plus so much more not just for the settled folk but for awareness for our own communities, about services and sectors that can really help make a difference to their lives, as at this moment in time only a few are accessing these services.

our history month and our culture days should be joined with all the health sectors and educational sectors like our culture fairs we hold now, so that not only the settled folk learn about us but so do the Romany and Irish travellers learn about them.

im sure by now you have gathered that we are not in the bit impressed with the decision to hold it in June and we will not under the legislation above have to except it.
also just to let you all know that we the youth that fought, championed and lobbied for this month, met last night in a EMERGENCY committee meeting, after the meeting in Hampshire with the federation and have decided we will be petitioning and holding a friendly protest out side the dfes offices in London in April, for April to be our history month on the ground given above.,

yours sincerely and with regret
blue Jones
uk youth parliament Kent,

president of
youth division
Canterbury Gypsy Support Group
International Gypsy & Traveller Affairs
Irish Traveller Movement 2006 (UK)
info@youthdivision.co.uk
(Affiliated with ITM & Pavee point Ireland)
Traveller Law Research Unit (Cardiff University)
European Romany and Traveller Forum
www.youthdivision.co.uk

February 25, 2008 at 1:21:00 AM GMT  
Blogger blue boy jones said...

A day in the life of a gypsy

I often walk school fields alone,
Just like the roads we choose to roam,
It’s a lonely life for someone like me,
I get pushed around and never let be,
Being called gypsy and pike scum at that,
They spit in my face and knock off my hat,
Mums been to the school had a scream and a shout,
But nothing got logged and no kids got chucked out,
UNDER THE CARPET THE COMPLAINTS DID GO,
AND I HAD TO PUT UP WITH THE PUNCHES THEY’D THROW,
But Today I saw my life pass my eyes,
As I lay on the school field a child despised,
5 kids around me they kicked with shear hate,
Nobody cared I was in such a state,
Why do they hate me I’ve done them no wrong,
I’m here in this school I just want to belong,
I came here to learn how to read and to write,
I did’nt come to learn every day I must fight,
Fight for the right as a child to be free,
To live in piece in this society.

February 25, 2008 at 1:25:00 AM GMT  
Blogger blue boy jones said...

MY FIRST RACE





THEY LIFTED THE CART FROM OFF THE TRUCK, AND HARNESSED THE FILLY TIGHT,
THEY LIFTED ME UP ON THE RED LEATHER SEAT, AS IT APPROACHED INTO THE NIGHT,
THE SHAM THEN SAID THE ROAD'S ARE BLOCKED, NO TRAFFIC FROM NORTH TO SOUTH,
GOOD LUCK YOU BOY'S HAVE A GOOD RACE, THEN SPAT THE DOGEND FROM HIS MOUTH,
WITH A CRACK ON ME RHEINS, A CLICK ON ME TONGUE,
ME HORSE WAS AWAY, AND THE RACE HAD BEGUN,
WE TROTTED DOWN THE CARRIAGE WAY, OUR FAMILIES STANDING BY,
AS WE REACHED THE END OF THE 249, THE GAVER'S MOTOR'S WE HEARD CRY,
AS QUICK AS ME RACE AS ENDED, A NEW ONE HAD BEGUN,
CAUSE ME AND ME HORSE ARE NOW CRIMINALS AND WERE STILL ON THE RUN.

February 25, 2008 at 1:27:00 AM GMT  
Blogger blue boy jones said...

FIRE TALES.

I WATCHED THE ORANGE LIGHT,
A FLICKER FROM A SPARK.
THE SMOKE WAS SLOWLY RISING,
AS THE EVENING DREW TO DARK,
I SAT THERE WITH A CHEEKY SMILE,
AND A STICK TO POKE THE FLAME,
I LISTENED TO THEM TELL THEIR TALES,
AND THE LAUGHTER SURLY CAME,
THEY TOLD OF MANY GENERATIONS,
MANY THAT HAVE PAST,
THEY TOLD THESE TALES WITH PASSION,
KNOWING THEY WILL SURLY LAST,
AS I WALKED OFF TO ME TRAILER,
AND GETTING MYSELF IN BED,
I WONDERED WILL MY LIFE AND TRAVELLS,
BE TOLD WHEN I AM DEAD,
THE FIRE IS THE PLACE,
FOR THEM TO KEEP THERE DREAMS ALIVE,
TO TELL THE TALES OF MANY A DREAMS,
AND A GENERATION THAT SURVIVED



i got loads more, my poem was once read out in the house of lords lol
thank you again for your support,
chushty bok to you all

February 25, 2008 at 1:30:00 AM GMT  
Blogger blue boy jones said...

pesha this is for you and all the other romany and traveller girls, im sure it is a true account as me mum told me about her childhood lol
blue.


A GYPSY GIRL


THE LIFE OF A GYPSY GIRL,
IS NOT AS EASY AS IT MAY SEEM,
FROM A VERY EARLY AGE
THEY ARE TAUGHT HOW TO COOK AND CLEAN,
THEY HELP WASH ALL THE CLOTHES,
NOT WITH A MACHINE BUT WITH A BRUSH,
THEY HELP TO DIG A HOLE,
CAUSE THERE’S NO TOILET FOR THEM TO FLUSH,
THE TRAILER CHROME WILL NEED A POLISH,
NOT A SMEAR OR MARK WILL BE SEEN,
THE MEN WILL BE HOME SOON,
AND THE HOME MUST BE REALLY CLEAN,
THE FIRE IS LIT AND BURNING,
FOR THE MEN TO STAND AND HAVE A TEA,
THE WOMEN AND GIRLS MUST DO DINNER,
AND THE MEN DON’T WANT TO SEE,
THE GYPSY MEN MUST THINK THEY HAVE FAIRIES,
THAT COME AND DO THIS WORK ALL DAY,
CAUSE THE GYPSY GIRLS DON’T GET NO THANKS
AND DO ALL THIS WORK WITH NO PAY.

February 25, 2008 at 4:05:00 PM GMT  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hello, my name is Righteous Levi Price, im a Gypsy and am very intrested in poetry: i would like an opinion upon my poems. tnx.

Gypsy Poem: The Sonnet of the Goldfinch.

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.


Copyright © Righteous Levi Price 2008

June 1, 2008 at 2:49:00 PM GMT  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Gypsy Poem: She was only Seventeen.


“He’s safe and with God now”, that’s what they all said,
While six feet below her, lay her precious Michael, dead,
It was a cold black day, but she dident feel the rain,
She had cried so much now, she was numb to the pain.

“Be strong for me I’ll always love you”, she heard Micheal say,
But she knew it was only in her mind, as they helped her away,
They had talked and planned, dreamed all summer long,
But now a cold wind was blowing, and her Micheal was gone.

“They’ve taken him from me”, she couldn’t help but think,
As she heard Father say to Mother, “C’mon lets get her a drink”,
They knew she was shattered, had lost loves precious dream,
Though she thought she was a woman, she was only seventeen.

“C’mon now my baby doll, we need you to be brave and strong”,
But she could only think: “they know, know they was wrong”,
She had loved her Micheal, had given him all of her heart,
But her family had tried everything, to keep them apart.

“He is no good for you, you’re from two different worlds”,
But she had said: “what does it matter, he’s a boy, im a girl”.
“Look at how rough his family are, look at his dad and mam,
We’ve given you a Mercedes, do you want to drive a van?”

“But you don’t know my Micheal, so kind, so warm and so funny,
I love him with all my heart, some things you cant buy with money”.
“We’ve slaved away for twenty odd years, given you only the best,
He is not good enough for our only daughter, put the matter to rest”.

So, she had pretended they had finished, but had another plan,
“They think he is using me, but this is no flash-in-the pan,
I know my Micheal truly loves me, and I don’t care what they say,
If I can’t have him I wont have anyone, we’re forced to run away”.

She knew their bond was true, Micheal was a man-about-town,
And she had offered herself, but Micheal had turned her down,
“No my handsome baby, I don’t want us to corrupt our love,
We will have plenty of time for all that, this we must rise above.

Your family think im no good, but I’ll prove myself to them,
I’ll not let them have anything to cast up to us, ever again”,
“But Micheal I know what I want, this is what I choose”,
And though Micheal tried, it was an offer he couldn’t refuse.

So, there passion was realised, and it had tied them together,
They knew they would grow old, and be together forever,
“We will run away soon, although I don’t have much money,
But I have an idea in mind, it wont be long now my honey”.

He was an honest young man, but he knew of an old farm,
With only an old man living there, his dogs, and no alarm,
Micheal had done work for the old man, for years off and on,
And he knew he was rich, but dident know: he slept with a gun.

Micheal dident like the idea, but needed some money fast,
And the opportunity was to good, far to good to pass,
So he gathered his friends, and they worked out a plan,
“Whatever happens don’t hurt him, he’s not a bad old man”.

They had chosen a dark night, to go and rob the old man,
They all wore dark clothes and they had stolen a van,
But when they crept up to the farm, they heard a loud shout,
And they all ran for their lives, as two gunshots rang out.

They made it back to the van and as they opened the door,
“Where’s Micheal”, someone said, “Is he not here? I don’t know”
They dident know what to do, they went home with a sense of dread,
At sunrise the police found Micheal, he had been shot, shot dead.

Her parents found out and told her, then they done what they could,
And though they where upset; couldn’t help it: “we said he was no good”
“He done it all for me, we was running away and going to get married”,
But she dident have the strength to tell them, about the baby she carried.

She would raise their child alone, and his memory would always adore,
She was only seventeen, and her Micheal was one year more…


Copyright © Righteous Levi Price 2008

June 1, 2008 at 2:51:00 PM GMT  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

June 1, 2008 at 2:54:00 PM GMT  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Gypsy Poem: Jesus aint fashion.


What I saw today, made me sick,
Was at the convention, seen this Chick.
She was young, but not that dumb,
And carried her blaspheme, round her bum.

She was walking round, bold as brass,
With her blaspheme, round her ass.
Wiggling it in a channel belt,
With Our Lord’s name, on her pelt.

She goes to church, this aint a game,
Who said she could use His name.
He gave us his life, he suffered our pain,
But Gypsy Gels take him in vain.

He aint “fashion” rubbish, overpriced,
He is Our Lord, Jesus Christ.

Copyright © Righteous Levi Price 2008

June 1, 2008 at 2:55:00 PM GMT  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

June 1, 2008 at 2:59:00 PM GMT  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I hope that i have not messed up your page - please feel free to get rid of my poems if you want

(gypsybadboy@hotmail.co.uk)

Righteous Levi Price.

June 1, 2008 at 3:01:00 PM GMT  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

June 4, 2008 at 4:50:00 PM GMT  
Blogger Pesha_Tshaya ( Leshya'e Romanes) said...

I have just deleted a rather unpleasant posting. I apologise to anyone from the Roma community that has been offended by this comment.
The person who made the comment posted it anonymously, which is hardly a surprise given it's vile content.
May I suggest that if this person, and family and associates live the way he describes then they are not fit company for descent people of any race or culture
Pesha

June 4, 2008 at 8:14:00 PM GMT  
Blogger just_the_girl said...

oh my i just have to say, i just read the poem 'a day in the life of a gypsy' and i wanted to cry. it makes me so sad just how ignorant people can be. it especially hurts me to see kids in schools ready to physically hurt someone because of a different appearance. the way it is written really shows the hurt. i write some poetry but its not as good, i guess what iam trying to say is, it relates to real life i can feel the sadness,i mean i should know since iam black and all.

August 12, 2008 at 11:49:00 PM GMT  
Anonymous glenn said...

hi im half gypsy.i loved all the poems you look into them become part of them and in your minds eye your round the fire listening to them being told.how i miss my younger days when i sat by those fires.

August 28, 2008 at 2:58:00 AM GMT  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Eye eye mort i jus wana say tat im a travellin gal 14 yr old an the things tat i hav got fightin for cos im a diddy coy is igorant sum gorja gals say tat cos us travellin gals sum times dress revealing at the fairs an tat is cos we look custi an got the travelling boys on our side but the travellin boys hav got resept for us i mean i hav 7 brothers 5 older than me an 2 younger an me lilttlest brother tells me wat to do more than the othas. but wateva happens travellin gals are always gonna be the best.

we are the gipsy gals
we wear our hair in curls
we wear our dunagrees above our sexii knees
we dont smoke
we dont drink
well tats wat our daddys think
an wen it cums to toys
we rather be courting a boy
an all that cleanin
theres gotta be a meanin
so we will find our travelling man
wit his tranist van
handsum
sexii
strong
u see us gipsy gals
we cant go wrong x

from epsom race grounds to appleby fair
if your lookin for a travellin boy
well theres plenty there
they will slap ur arse and call u babe
an then tat happy feelin will never fade
so watch out u travelling gal
cos the travelling boys are searching around
jus make sure hes tall dark an rich then slap on the fake tan an say ill be ur bitch!!xxx

November 15, 2009 at 10:58:00 PM GMT  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

im a travelling gal an i wanna say this that at the end of the day it dont matter what the gorja people say that the gals are wastin there lives i mean they ain all they want is a man that loves them an wont fight for them a family fall of children and no fights or loses u know an tats wwhat people dont understand they say that our life is so simple i mean i dont wanna be tied down to a job and a contract an all that rubbish all i wan is wat i ve already said pass me test have a laugh wit the gals get dress up for cambridge and stow and appleby and if i find me travellin i do but if i dont i aint gonna worry bout it i mean me cousins got it so hav me mum an everyone round me life is way to sort to worry bout jobs and carerrs and how am i goona pay this off an tat off you know as long as you got enough to get by that will do me i ve already lost so meny people so close to me i gonna do what i promised them an live every day like it might be my last cos that is wat im here for.
tar

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