Δευτέρα, Οκτωβρίου 20

4:45 μ.μ.


... to Imitate Rappers, 


   Because I have difficulty in speech,
Clarice which I often call "Teach"
tried in vain to teach me the English tongue,
in vain, because there seemed to be a bung
which prevents the knowledge to enter into my mind…
This bung fitted by nature to remind
that after fifty years away from school,
someone trying to learn a language, is a fool.

But I remained an unrepentant, making a decision perverse..
I wrote a screenplay (starring Clarice) in verse…
Please chose to show clemency, in my youth I did worse ..

This will be a gift to my teacher that I thank night and day,
and as Frank Sinatra says in his song, "I did it my way"..

I had the cheek to imitate rappers,
them, them permanently of my mind trappers...

__________________________________




 A  Rap Opera   or  Hip Hopera  scene 1

Story Script   scene-by-scene                                                                                        

_________________________________________   by Odisseas Heavilayias




1.  How Buddy  and Eminem  were connected



Odisseas:     I admit to being cheeky.

                  Methodically and sneaky,
                  with English from your text,*                *emails
                           (the current and the next),
                  an imitation rap,
                  I write, my dear chap.
                  I needed a hero, to base it on,
                  I thought of you, I said, go on.
                  I started to write,
                  morning till night…


Clarice:         I’m doggy sitting ….


Odisseas:     Buddy ?  Doggy sitting ?
                  You know, I was thinking
                  how lucky I was,
                  a Company’s boss
                  to be my friend,
                  now, before, and till the end.


Clarice:        I was trying to figure out how Buddy and Eminem were connected.
                 You did a great job, but a rap should be interconnected
                 with guns, with gangs and with drugs….
                 Keep writing, I'll see you in a week, hugs..




Odisseas:     Guns ? - Gangs ? - Drugs ?
                  So, is my intention
                  those words to mention.
                  Let's say the first one,
                  the word "gun."
                  The sun is down.
                   My gang in town
                   the sole ruler.
                   My name is "Cooler".
                   Last word, the drugs.
                   Crews of the tugs*                    *Tugboats
                             sold a lot to us,
                            in India’s banks.*                            *A large area of elevated sea floor

                           Here they don’t know
                  such words, you know,
                  those “Whoops and Wow”,
                  don’t know how
                  feel more important now.

                  Thank you and also "ciao".
                  An Italian tourist in Fao,*                             *Iraq
                            mentioned that word,
                  when that guy came on board.

                  The word was said last summer,
                  while the singer Donna Summer
                  was singing the blues,
                  when my mind I was going to lose.

                   Click it, (your mouse dear),
                   to disappear
                   from where I live there,
                   send me to nowhere.
                

Clarice:         It's time to talk about me.                       
                  In other words grab the key,                        
                  unlock the door of my life,
                  see me from baby to housewife…
                  I was born some years ago.

                  No woman, you know,
                  betrays her age,
                  Let's go to another page.

                  Clarice is my name,
                  and my parents came
                  to Ann Arbor, and lived there..
                       
                   At this point I must declare,
                   my strange heritage combination,
                  -which causes you great admiration -
                   Italian, Scottish, and I don’t do humor,
                   nor this is some vague rumor,
                   a Chickasaw princess was before,
                   my great-grandmother,    and therefore,
                   the fact that you see me in awe,
                   it's justified dear brother in law.

                   My grandparents were very poor,
                   I heard it, and I'm sure
                   they came up north to pick fruit.

                   They took the same route
                   like all migrant workers did.
                        
                   I remember very little, I was a kid.                      
                   My mother's family had to run away…..                      
                   Camorra was a fear, night, and day.

                   They left Campania to come to America and stay forever ..
                    Wise decision and very clever ..

                    My mom's parents moved to Ann Arbor,
                    after the war, after Pearl Harbor.
                       
                    So did the parents of my dad..
                    I think it is necessary to add
                    that from Hot Springs, Arkansas was where….

                    My parents in high school had a love affair.
                    My dad was considered to be very cute, 
                    a date with him was of girls pursuit…
                    My mom fell in love, I think in a hike…
                    We northerns tend to like
                    those from the south,  alike       
                    and just in films so it seems
                    as well as in girls' dreams…



Odisseas:     My grandparents  belonged to the same club ...
                  very poor, never went to a tavern or even in a pub.
                  But sorry I'm crude, and abrupt,
                  and your narration I interrupt. 

 Clarice:        Scottish, Indian and Italian ..

                   I feel like, an invisible medallion


                   hanging around my neck.


                         
                   Today I decided to check

                   and I opened this medallion.

                   It was written that I was Italian,
                   but I was a Spartan, too.
                   I tried to find who is who. 
                   I made sure that I wasn't a Filipino,
                   and found I come from Rosario Tarantino.
                   That means that thousands of years ago,
                   in the Spartan colony of Taras, in Italy down low,
                   my ancestors lived there.

                   To accept it I needed to prepare
                   myself to face the shock ...
                   I went for long long walk ... 
                   I was wondering and thinking,
                   when I was eating,
                   when I was drinking,
                   while asleep, when I woke up….

                   In this one the odd rap you will see              
                   how the name Greek is chasing me.

                   First, a Greek married me.

                   Secondly, the team I support
                   (my favorite it is this Sport)                        
                   has the Greek name “Sparta”,
                   neither Cairo nor Jakarta.

                  Thirdly, my first photograph with a King

                  (Some years ago, I think it was spring)
                  was nothing but with a Greek again.
                  Α series of events, a real chain.
                  Now, I’m sure that you will freak...
                  Ypsilanti was a general, was Greek ...                  
                  Ypsilanti is called the small town
                  where lives my sister Lori Brown ..

                  Ending....Countries in the world are two hundred and ten.
                   Every week I come in contact with only one,
                   with Greece….. a Greek again, and just began....

Odisseas:      For you I pray
                   to have a nice day,
                   and month and week,
                   your friend...
                               .. ''another Greek'' !




 With a  Golden Chain..  scene 2

Story Script   scene-by-scene                                                                                    ___________________________   by Odisseas Heavilayias



Odisseas:      Her red fingernail polish, (what a color !)
                   was the reason to spend my last dollar...

                   Buying a very expensive ticket,

                   and wearing only a sweater tricot,
                   I boarded a Boeing,
                   without really knowing
                   if it was necessary to make this journey.

                   The girl's name was Emie,

                   and my idea was completely stupid.
                   Obviously I needed the help of Cupid...
                   I begged him to shoot an arrow for me...
                   Cupid said, ''why and who was she?''

                   I answered, ''I don’t know,

                   but two days ago
                   I saw her in my sleep,
                   and then a sense... deep...
                   was overran me, overcame me,
                   and now I see,
                   that dream alive.''

                 "Just count to five..",

                  Cupid said....




                      .. and forget her red fingernail color,
                  then try to discolor
                  the whole scene…"

                  All of this between

                  the two shores of Atlantic,
                  on a trip through, gigantic.


                       After a few hours,
                     holding a bunch of flowers,
              the driver of a yellow cab,
              takes me to a club.                                                
              I had the wrong address.
              I'm unlucky, I confess.
              Seems she is out of my reach,

              I slept then on the beach.


              Early in the morning I got the bus,

              without even cleaning my teeth with a brush,
              holding a bottle of wine, Bordeaux,
              a gift for her, although,
              I was not at all sure,
              if I will see her on this tour.

              Maybe she was on a plane,

              and I was looking in vain
              in Ann Arbor and all over.

              I rented a muscle Land Rover

              and I drove to "Jason" street,
              but as I was a foreigner, a Greek,
              the neighbors couldn't understand....

              Fortunately at the road’s end,

              luck smiled on the Greek…
              Someone said:

                      "Τhe clean freak,

                       has moved into the city,
                       I remember her, she was pretty."

                            




 Just in case, he carried a gun…  scene 3

Story Script   scene-by-scene                                                                                        
_________________________________________  by Odisseas Heavilayias
                        

Clarice:   The other day at the airport Ο'Ηare,
              I saw a little girl who had curly hair,
              and, my thoughts traveled in the past,
              (when past and future contrast)…

             I dreamed while I was awake, and 

                                              my imagination did speed up,
             I visited many places from my year of growing up,
             (Believe it or not my dear chap).

             My home where I grew up,
             my school, my grandparents house,
             In my ears an unknown music, resembled Strauss.

             I stopped over at the Dairy Queen in our hometown, 

             (great ice cream) they were loved all around.
                    

             I visited a couple wineries and did some tasting,
             but that which was really amazing,
             was a new place a cider mill,
             (makes apples cider, apple juice), it was a thrill..

             I do enjoy good wine,
             not too much at one time,
             but I like the many different tastes.


             I like reds, but a white I will not let it go to waste.
             I told you before and I'll say it again
             that I also love too much champagne…
 

             I was a cheerleader (indifferent for our readers)
             kind of Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders,
             of course with a lot more cloths on,
             thanks to us once, our team won.




                        

                    Then Ι became a pom pon girl,
             (I kept my hair in curl}.
             I was 2nd runner up in our queen contest.
             I have been homecoming queen. I was never depressed.

             I played the clarinet, I was in the band,
             If you don’t believe all these, I understand…

             I did that all through high school..
             I did not break any rule...

             Or another way to say it, I followed the rules.
             A tomboy they called me at all of my schools.

                           

             

               

                   
My grandpa use to let me drive the tractor,
             whoever would say that I was not good, would be a detractor..

            I had a Mustang, what we call a muscle car here in the US.
            Βig engines in them, with power like a bus.
            I use to race it, not legally but when your 18 who needs
                                                                                 to be legal…

            Ιn Germany, my Mustang was cover in the magazine Spiegel.




                            
                 
My grandfather worked with Al Capone.
           Αs long as he lived it was not known.
           He did not kill or injure anyone,
           but just in case, he carried a gun…





_________________________________________________________________


* [Throughout the history of the United States there have been many slang words for jail.
Depending on the era in which you were born, you will definitely notice that people alter and come up with new slang words for jail native to the time.

If you think back to the many slang words for jail that you have heard over the years, you will more than likely come up with a longer list of words that you never imagined possible. Hoosegow, mainline joint, skinner joint, stoney lonesome, con college, glasshouse, bucket, club fed, greybar hotel, big house, slammer, calaboose, castle, cooler, country club, crowbar hotel, digger, farm, guardhouse, hole, joint, jug, juvie, pen, pokey, rock, sneezer, stockade, the clink.]

Slammer - scene 4

Story Script   scene-by-scene                                                                                        

_________________________________________  by Odisseas Heavilayias




Odysseas:    In slang, my mind, I lose..
                  What word should I choose?
                  What word of them all?

                  Ιn thoughtfulness, I fall.

                  I’ll pick "slammer", that's all.

                  I need that word anyway,
                  because I'll talk to you about Mae.
                  and easily, you will understand Clarice ,
                  why I wander drunk on the streets..

                  My life was empty
                  since I turned twenty,
                  since she went away,
                  and through the years, till today

                  I heard someone say,
                  that he saw her last summer
                  getting out of the slammer,
                  after doing time.
 



               
I searched for a dime
to make a phone call,
(I'm not sure at all
that a dime is still enough)

I spent many years in the Gulf,
it was then she commited the theft
of my heart, and left.

I also did time,
without doing the crime


Her hair extension
caused the tension,
in the bar that night,
and in the fight
my stupid connection,
cost me an injection
as I was hit, hardly
by that bastard Charlie... 

I knew that her neighbor
was an exterminator,
a ladies' killer,
his name was Miller,
a former prom king…
I promise you one thing,
that she will be mine.
For him, I’ll be a landmine
ready to explore (but then courage comes from wine)
                                                                               to be continued ...


__________________________________________________


* Editor Odysseus Heavilayias,
   Language adjustments and text adaptation  Kellene G Safis,
   Digital adaptation and text editing Cathy Rapakoulia Mataraga
_____________________________________________________                        


 Utopia 

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