I was lucky enough to first meet Elvis at his house in Bel Air and he used to invite different artists, singers and musicians, to come and jam with him at his house.
quote by Jackie DeShannon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The Houses
1898 -- A Song of the Dominions
'Twixt my house and thy house the pathway is broad,
In thy house or my house is half the world's hoard;
By my house and thy house hangs all the world's fate,
On thy house and my house lies half the world's hate.
For my house and thy house no help shall we find
Save thy house and my house -- kin cleaving to kind;
If my house be taken, thine tumbleth anon.
If thy house be forfeit, mine followeth soon.
'Twixt my house and thy house what talk can there be
Of headship or lordship, or service or fee?
Since my house to thy house no greater can send
Than thy house to my house -- friend comforting friend;
And thy house to my house no meaner can bring
Than my house to thy house -- King counselling King.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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House Of Jazz
Humdinger
Bell ringer
Got a nasty stinger
To slow you down
Mud slinger
Gold digger
Who point the finger
And do you down
Kickin' and a fightin' on a TV show
Lightin' blindin' in the middle of the road
Are you comin' in
Are you comin' in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Ball stripper
Big tipper
Got a slap 'n' tickler
To make you growl
Spitin' and bitin' on a TV show
Tightenin' frightenin' givin' out a load
Are you comin' in
Are you comin' in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Are you comin' in
Come on in
Are you comin' in
Are you comin' in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Are you comin' in
Are you comin' in
I said into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
The house of jazz
song performed by by AC/DC from Stiff Upper Lip
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The great thing about being the son of Maya Angelou is that I had the good fortune to grow up around some of the greatest black artists, dancers, singers, musicians, and actors of our time.
quote by Guy Johnson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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House Of Jazz
(young - young)
Humdinger
Bell ringer
Got a nasty stinger
To slow you down
Mud slinger
Gold digger
Who point the finger
And do you down
Kickin and a fightin on a tv show
Lightin blindin in the middle of the road
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz, yes
Ball stripper
Big tipper
Got a slap n tickler
To make you growl
A spitin and bitin on a tv show
Tightenin frightenin givin out a load
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Are you comin in
Come on in
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
The house of jazz
2000, j. albert & son, pty.
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I used to go to Elvis's house was always a nightmare trying to get into the house because of so many fans outside the gate and he really couldn't go anywhere without sneaking in or doing something because people just wanted to be around him and to be with him.
quote by Jackie DeShannon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Feeling Like A Stranger
in this place
this house without furnitures
all floors, this house with nothing but some stairs
and windows
you built it, i was away for years and we meet again
in this house
of acquaintances
devoid of affection, i have a way of telling what is this all about
by merely looking at the ceiling
there are no lights
to clarify me, who am i? in this house where i am not even a tree
or a vine
rootless, leafless
dying,
shall i continue living here?
i feel so unlike everyone else,
i am a total stranger
in this house that you built
this house devoid of affection,
i guess i have no choice
but to leave at once
otherwise, i too shall perish
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some like Bob; Others, Elvis
Some like Bob; others, Elvis.
He never has a problem deciding; he loved both.
They are in his memory great American heroes,
Of his America. He’s happy here, and keeps
In his heart the happiness from years ago of getting an American visa.
Both musicians are the sweetness of his soul, a gift from God.
Thanks to them, he had had many joyful moments here.
Both artists are icons of America. With out them, America
Would be much poorer, just as he would be without it.
Adam Lizakowski
Elvis the king and Bob the muse, they are his masters of music and song.
So very human and imperfect, smeared with the mud of everydayness,
With problems of this world on their backs, they are America’s capital
Of which he gladly makes use. For him they are symbols
Of America changing for the better. Road signs leading to
A childish naïveté, that things will be better and that one must
Write about this, sing about this, that one must believe strongly in this.
Bob and Elvis, two falls, two volcanoes of his life, instilled in him forever
The fire of fascination with America. A fire that does not destroy,
That does not burn, that does not make ashes of everything, but cleanses.
It cures and burns out that which is weak and not worth little,
Ennobling in a man the best things,
From which we are made.
Yes, yes, some like Bob and others, Elvis, and he loves both,
However, they are different from each other as a king from a muse.
Bob; Others, Elvis
poem by Adam Lizakowski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If you're in the White House, it's your house, and you can invite whatever friend you want.
quote by Chevy Chase
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A House for Four
A house for four
What is it? a house for four
A dingy looking thing
Are there windows? none
What is it? a house for four
Such a palace
Are there greetings? none
What is it? a house for four
Why the space is so small
Is there privacy? none
What is it? a house for four
A dozen creeps could be creeping there
Is there any trust? none
Don't judge me for mine
Poor fool i wont
Even give you the time
Are you judging me?
Your quite the choir
With a cracking voice
And
A tall house that falls
To scrutiny
A house for four and
A house for four
A people of choir and
A people of poor
Do you not recognize
The stains are yours?
A house is not a house
Unless there is more
More and more
Sometimes less is more
poem by Deci Hernandez
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The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
Velvet Elvis
My life, it used to be incomplete
till I saw what I was looking for at a drive-in swap meet
My life it wont be the same again
Now Im proud to say the king lives on inside my den
Oh, its all I live for, its all I need
My velvet elvis
My velvet elvis
My velvet elvis means the world to me
Although he may not be worth much dough
He means much more to me than some old rembrandt or van gogh
Check out those sideburns, theres nothing greater
You can tell that hes no velvet elvis imitator
Oh, its all I live for, its all I need
My velvet elvis
My velvet elvis
My velvet elvis
Oh, now you cant you see
My velvet elvis
My velvet elvis
My velvet elvis means the world to me
In my own private graceland
In my own little shrine to the king
I dont want nothin else
No, I dont need anything
Dont need no lava lamp
Dont need no soap on a rope
No pictures of mexican kids with those really big eyes
Or dogs playing poker
When Im at home watching my tv
I know the king is always looking down on me
He looks so handsome, he stands so tall
So glad hes big enough to cover up that hole in the wall
(velvet elvis) hes so fuzzy
(velvet elvis) hes so great
(velvet elvis) never ages
(velvet elvis) never puts on weight
(velvet elvis) look at those rhinestones
(velvet elvis) hes just so fine
(velvet elvis) you can look but dont touch now
(velvet elvis) cause hes mine all mine
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Intro
This is not a test
This is reality
We're all lying
Who's in the house?
Who's in the house?
Who's in the house?
Limp Bizkit is in the house
Who's in the house?
Who's in the house?
Who's in the house?
Limp Bizkit is in the house
Bring it on
song performed by by Limp Bizkit from Chocolate Starfish And The Hot Dog Flavored Water
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Guest House
Lots of people satyed
In the guest house
Of that famous dr. that lives in a greek island
In grece because that is where his house is
Over looking the greek island
yes I also stayed in the dr. guest house
Once because he invite me also
some time ago
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Was My House
(I had spent my childhood in Kashmir/India.)
Once upon a time
that house
housed my home
narrow lanes led to outside roads
which I used to roam.
Once upon a time
that house
woke up with temple bells
loud prayers stirred the souls
with blowing of conch shells.
Once upon a time
that house
had an open window
cool breeze refreshed me
with the chirrup of a sparrow.
Once upon a time
that house
overlooked the river
I could jump and swim
like an expert diver.
Once upon a time
that house
had a long kaeni (balcony)
made all the children play together
by tough grand old Kakni. (grand mother)
Once upon a time
that house
basked under the sun
warmth spread to people around
everyone used to have fun.
Once upon a time
that house
witnessed many celebrations
gupp bacche/bhand and melodious Henze*
were hallmark of jubilations.
That house, like a dream to me now
and may remain that for ever
its indelible impression, admit I must
can never be erased, my dear.
-----xxxx-------
* dancer/singers and singing of wedding rhythem.
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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Everyone wants something
Poets bleed for their art
writers need the muse
artists want passion
musicians need the blues.
Lovers want love
loners need to be alone
children like friends
singers need the tone.
Dancers need the rhythm
actors need a stage
drummers crave the beat
workers want a wage.
Everyone wants something
a prisoner longs to be free
I no longer want anything
I'm happy just being me.
poem by Kevin Halls
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stranger In The House
We dont talk much
We dont make love like we used to
And I stay guarded
Ive got walls and triggers
I never thought I had
And so do you
But this is love
And thats the way we seem content to play it
I touch your clothes when youre gone
I let your scent wash over me
You cry at night and you wish just like a child
That we were how we used to be
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like somebody from a lifetime ago
I stonewall you, you stonewall me
But we both know that
Hiding deep inside us
Lives the love that we try hard to lose
And never will
But this is war
And thats the way we seem content to fight it
I get so angry and confused cause
I want out but I want you
You cant decide between moving out or moving in
You dont know what to do
With a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like you
And he looks like me
Is this the same girl that, I fought so hard to win
And now I fight to lose her
Now I feel that its just like skin to skin
And nerve to nerve
Strung out like wire
Is that the way we are content to live
We face off in anger
In rooms once filled with love
Looking for a chink in the armour
Where we can stab the blade
What are we thinking of
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like somebody from a lifetime ago
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Astonishing Forest
Where the house filled with living
The house continuously giving
Where the house filled with nature
The house filled with adventure
Anything can survive
With the nature it provides
Where the house filled with grass
The house filled with hedges, bushes and plants
Canopy trees be it rain or shine
Will be there for you at any time
Where the green house filled with fresh air
Will shelter you in the heavy rain
O the house of beauty
O the house of sound
So much variety is yet to be found
poem by Sehar Zaman
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Memphis 2006
Springtime in Memphis Tennessee,
traveling with friend
last named pronounced Lee.
Stopping at a coffee bar,
taking photos with local star.
Then going to river named Mississippi,
taking sideway photos of Melodie.
Then off to Elvis’s daughters plane,
“Lisa Marie” across from Graceland.
Brick wall with graffiti by fans for the King,
just plain writing with no sparkling bling.
Elvis's mansion surrounded by gate,
store nearby with Elvis plate.
And of course an Elvis toy,
given as gift for girl or boy.
Razel did take photo with King,
she got a kiss, but wanted a fling.
Then up north from there is downtown,
we stopped and listened to Jazz all around.
Razel took photos with 'singers of the blues',
she posed sideways with no shoes,
singers laughing totally amused.
Then Razel took a 1 hr snooze,
while driving to Florida to get on a cruise.
Memphis was fun don’t get me wrong,
this is the place where Elvis still sings his songs.
Written by Christina Sunrise on March 4,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Complicated Lifestyle.
a man's life is simple.
he has a routine, like this: house, office, house.
he gets bored, adds another place,
like house, office, park, mall, house,
waste of money, but a little interesting, he adds more
a friend's house, another house where he can be intimate with someone,
then sex, and games and romance and betrayal and use and sue and
lots of booze,
he retreats back to house, office, house,
but it is not the same again.
he sins, feels so broke, and
to a certain extent
attempts at suicide.
sad, but it can happen to you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Monument Of All Our Wrongs
i build a house
no one likes it.
the house is empty
i put some chairs.
someone comes and
says, this house is
lonely, it needs
a sound
it is boring and needs
a paint
i put a tree beside
its stairs
i grow another
fence
i put a lone bulb
on a post
and leave the house
for good
that is what the
house is made
there is always
missing
something is
always wrong
this is the house
of regret
it is the monument
of all our wrongs.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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