The original Return of the Living Dead, I was attached to direct it, and I wrote the story. Production was delayed. In the meantime I went to London to do Lifeforce.
quote by Tobe Hooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
No Poem Is An Original
No poem is an original
everyone who writes
poetry thinks their poem
was an original, it just so
happens that their poem just
surfaced to the top
of their mind first, so they
were able to write it.
Everyone has love, hate
compassion buried deep
in their soul.
Poets are able to bring
all of this to the surface,
to construct, add the words,
but it is not an original
idea, for the poet because
they wrote it now, it
becomes an original for them.
Who has not heard a song,
read a poem, story or book,
seen a movie and said,
to themselves, hey I had
that same idea.
Only thing is, someone else
brought it to the surface
of the mind, and wrote it first.
Even this poem I'm writing
now is not an original
someone out there
has this idea buried
deep in their soul.
So if you have an idea
for a poem, get busy
write it, don't wait,
or you won't write an original
start today,
don't delay.
wrote 2-2-07
Forever Delayed (V.1)
Forever Delayed (Version 1)
The end of poverty seems to be forever delayed,
The end of racism seems to be forever delayed,
The end of suffering seems to be forever delayed.
The beginning of world peace seems to be forever delayed,
The end of war seem to be forever delayed,
The end of famine seems to be forever delayed.
By Christopher Tye
poem by Christopher Tye
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After living in LA for 8 years, I sort of wanted a change, but there's not much production in New York, which is where I primarily live, so I just sort of drifted over to London.
quote by Alex Winter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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London's Burning
His eyes reflect the golden fire, his pupils burning bright
As he turns away they feel a sudden, crying urge to fight
Big Old Ben has run away, they always thought it might
London's Burning
London's Burning
The chapels down in Kensington are bursting into flames
The children of the neighbourhood are dancing, gone insane
They hug their parent's knees and try to cry away the shame
London's Burning
London's Burning
Members of the royalty rush in to see the Queen
She's rushed off to a bunker, told to wait and not to scream
But all of London's gone aflame, her bunker traps her here
London's Burning
London's Burning
Teenage gangs are on the prowl, they go from place to place
They need no names or calls or shouts, don't need know their race
Just know that all who wear a hood are filled to burst with rage
London's Burning
London's Burning
2 weeks on, the smoke has gone and rebels rule the streets
No-one walks the road at all for fear of who they'll meet
The dead are marked with crosses red and hid with pale sheets
London's Burning
London's Burning
2 more weeks, rotting flesh is all that you can smell
Water's got infected, and the food's all gone as well
The only people left, they wander in a living hell
London's Burning
London's Burning
poem by Matt Pocock
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Glamorous Glue
The first day with the jar
You find
Everyone lies
The first day with the jar
You find
Everyone lies, nobody minds
Everyone lies
Where is the man you respect ?
And where is the woman you love ?
Where's the woman you love ?
The third week with the jar
You find
Everything dies
We won't vote conservative
Because we never have
Everyone lies, everyone lies
Where is the man you respect ?
And where is the woman you love ?
Where's the woman you love ?
I used to dream, and i used to vow
I wouldn't dream of it now
We look to los angeles
For the language we use
London is dead, london is dead
London is dead, london is dead
London is dead, london is dead
I'm still too much in love
Oh, i'm too much in love
I'm more in love
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poems Became The Story Of My Inner Life
THE POEMS BECAME THE STORY OF MY INNER LIFE
The poems became the story of my inner life-
A series of confessions-
Often simple and direct
They seemed to lose their poetry-
I wrote them and I write them as I need to
I do not know if their rhythm is real
Or only prose-
I write them as poetry
Because this is what I am and have now-
Still the overwhelming anxiety I have now suggests
I always in them tell only a small part of the story
As if the feeling inside
Is always more than any poetry that pretends to express and represent it –
If I doubt the value of this poem and doubt the value of all my poetry and doubt my own value, poetry or not, and doubt and doubt-
Then certainly ‘doubt’ is one keynote of my inner life and story.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Beat Museum
I just went to the Beat Museum
These poets are obviously dead,
Sardonic, original, witty men,
Not fit for more than what they did.
I guess it's good they left something behind,
After all, most of the world needs some kind of sign,
How could we calculate variable pain,
Raising its head through motorcycle chain.
Strip joints surround the Beat Museum,
You get porno dust on your shoes as you arrive,
You can buy original copies of whatever they wrote,
And see a car, that looks like the car, Kerouac used to drive.
poem by Richard Jarboe
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In The Day's When We Are Dead
Listen! The end draws nearer,
Nearer the morning—or night—
And I see with a vision clearer
That the beginning was right!
These shall be words to remember
When all has been done and said,
And my fame is a dying ember
In the days when I am dead.
Listen! We wrote in sorrow,
And we wrote by candle light;
We took no heed of the morrow,
And I think that we were right—
(To-morrow, but not the day after,
And I think that we were right).
We wrote of a world that was human
And we wrote of blood that was red,
For a child, or a man, or a woman—
Remember when we are dead.
Listen! We wrote not for money,
And listen! We wrote not for fame—
We wrote for the milk and the honey
Of Kindness, and not for a name.
We paused not, nor faltered for any,
Though many fell back where we led;
We wrote of the few for the many—
Remember when we are dead.
We suffered as few men suffer,
Yet laughed as few men laugh;
We grin as the road grows rougher,
And a bitterer cup we quaff.
We lived for Right and for Laughter,
And we fought for a Nation ahead—
Remember it, friends, hereafter,
In the years when I am dead—
For to-morrow and not the day after,
For ourselves, and a Nation ahead.
poem by Henry Lawson
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A Monochrome Poem
IT will talk about
an absence in the same manner
that he talks about it
when you are together
about a job about to come
when
he does not know
but for the meantime
he stays with you
for support
he once tells about a woman
who jumped from atop the
cathedral
hitting her head on the
lamppost below
not only sad
but horrible
brains scattered on the pavement
blood spurting like
a fountain
so much self-inflicted
violence
one thinks about the noise
of the monochromatic life
outside the window
thinking that there is someone
there that you know
who like you
also looks for life
a job that did not come
the decision to come home
but when
that i do not really know
with you
for the meantime
everything is still on the meantime
we wait
hopefully for something not
as violent
not as horrible as
the cathedral story.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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London Boys
Cow bell strikes another night
Your eyes are heavy and your limbs all ache
You've bought some coffee, butter and bread
You can't make a thing cause the meter's dead
You moved away
Hold your folks you're gonna stay away
Bright lights, Soho, Wardour street
You hope you make friends with the guys that you meet
Somebody shows you round
Now you've met the London boys
Things seem good again, someone cares about you
Oh, the first time that you tried a pill
You feel a little queasy, decidedly ill
You're gonna be sick, but you mustn't lose faith
To let yourself down would be a big disgrace
With the London boys, with the London boys
You're only seventeen, but you think you've grown
In the month you've been away from your parents' home
You take the pills too much
You don't give a damn about that jobs you've got
So long as you're with the London boys
A London boy, oh a London boy
Your flashy clothes are your pride and joy
A London boy, a London boy
You think you've had a lot of fun
But you ain't got nothing, you're on the run
It's too late now, cause you're out there boy
You've got it made with the rest of the toys
Now you wish you'd never left your home
You've got what you wanted but you're on your own
With the London boys
Now you've met the London boys
Now you've met the London boys
Now you've met the London boys
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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London
New York winter
Traffic squeals
The city feels...so old
Late December
Taxi ride
Then run inside
It's cold
Got your letter Monday
I think
Or Tuesday
I lose track
Since then I've been thinking of you
And I've been
Looking back to
London
Can you believe it's
So many years since
London
Hitching a ride and
Carrying knapsacks
London
In the park
By the Thames
Drinking tea
London
Sitting in pubs and
Living in walk-ups
London
Learning the accent
Learnin' to love you
London
We were young
We we sure
We were...free
Was it really ages
Ago
The memories
Never fade
Can you hear Big Ben where
You are
And are you
Glad you stayed in
London
Dodging the rain with
Broken umbrellas
London
Reading the times
On Saturday picnics
London
Counting the stars,
'Till the stars
All were gone
London
So many plans and
Nothing but time in
London
Nothing to fear 'cause
Nothing could last in
London
We grew close
We grew scared
I moved on
Oh London
What were we scared of
Why did I run from
London
Part of me still has
Never come back from
London
Is it fair
That I miss
You so much
Take good care
All my love
Keep in touch
New York winter
Taxi ride
Then run inside
It's cold
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dead Girls Of London [w/frank Zappa]
Do you see what they are
Do you hear what they say
People it is sad but true
They're dressed really stupid
But they think they're o.k.
And they got no use for you
The dead girls of london
Why do they act that way?
Maybe it's the water, mama
Maybe it's the tea
Maybe it's the way they was raised
Maybe it's the stuff what they read in the papers
Keeps them lookin' sorta half in a daze
Well the dead girls of london
Why do they act that way?
We're the dead girls of london
We thinks we are fine
We ain't hittin' on nothin'
But the boutique frame of mind
You see 'em dancing at the disco every night
Like a bunch of little robot queens
Making little noises full of fake delight
But they're really just so full of beans
The dead girls of london
Why do they act that way?
We're the dead girls of london
We thinks we are fine
We ain't hittin' on nothin'
But the boutique frame of mind
Boutique frame of mind
Gee i like your pants
Boutique frame of mind
Gee i like your pants
Boutique frame of mind
Gee i like your pants
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dead Girls Of London (feat. Frank Zappa)
Do you see what they are
Do you hear what they say
People it is sad but true
They're dressed really stupid
But they think they're O.K.
And they got no use for you
The dead girls of London
Why do they act that way?
Maybe it's the water, mama
Maybe it's the tea
Maybe it's the way they was raised
Maybe it's the stuff what they read in the papers
Keeps them lookin' sorta half in a daze
Well the dead girls of London
Why do they act that way?
We're the dead girls of London
We thinks we are fine
We ain't hittin' on nothin'
But the boutique frame of mind
You see 'em dancing at the disco every night
Like a bunch of little robot queens
Making little noises full of fake delight
But they're really just so full of beans
The dead girls of London
Why do they act that way?
We're the dead girls of London
We thinks we are fine
We ain't hittin' on nothin'
But the boutique frame of mind
Boutique frame of mind
Gee I like your pants
Boutique frame of mind
Gee I like your pants
Boutique frame of mind
Gee I like your pants
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do It And Be Set Free
Don't be the one,
Delayed to be forgiving.
Open up your heart,
And...
Blessings come,
You will know.
Don't be the one,
Delayed to be forgiving.
Open your eyes wide,
To realize...
Your gift IS life.
Don't be the one,
Delayed to be forgiving.
Do it and be set free.
Do it and you will see,
What God can do.
Don't be the one,
Delayed to be forgiving.
Do it and be set free.
Do it and you will see,
What God can do.
For you.
Do it and you will see,
What God can do.
Do it and you will see,
What God will undo for you.
Do it and you will see,
What God can do.
Don't be the one,
Delayed to be forgiving.
Do it and be set free.
Do it and you will see,
What God can do.
For you.
Do it and you will see,
What God can do.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Half A Person
Call me morbid, call me pale
I've spent six years on your trail
Six long years
On your trail
Call me morbid, call me pale
I've spent six years on your trail
Six full years of my life on your trail
And if you have five seconds to spare
Then i'll tell you the story of my life :
Sixteen, clumsy and shy
I went to london and i
I booked myself in at the y ... w.c.a.
I said : "i like it here - can i stay ?
I like it here - can i stay ?
And do you have a vacancy
For a back-scrubber?"
She was left behind, and sour
And she wrote to me, equally dour
She said : "in the days when you were
Hopelessly poor
I just liked you more..."
And if you have five seconds to spare
Then i'll tell you the story of my life :
Sixteen, clumsy and shy
I went to london and i
I booked myself in at the y ... w.c.a.
I said : "i like it here - can i stay ?
I like it here - can i stay ?
And do you have a vacancy
For a back-scrubber ?"
Call me morbid, call me pale
I've spent too long on your trail
Far too long
Chasing your tail
Oh ...
And if you have five seconds to spare
Then i'll tell you the story of my life :
Sixteen, clumsy and shy
That's the story of my life
Sixteen, clumsy and shy
The story of my life
That's the story of my life
That's the story of my life
That's the story of my life
The story of my life
That's the story of my life
That's the story of my life
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Britanica Hymn Edited
There are shadows in my dreams that I see
While I walk at night in the park in London riding my horse
But the shadows seen to follow me like a living ghost
Can I call this ghost the living ghost of London?
Or is somebody that is following me in the dark?
But don't try to ask me who it is because I can't see very well in the dark
Also the only light that is available in the park here in London comes from The moon in the sky
But the moon is doing a good job to guide me where I need to go from Point a to point b here in the park at London
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Britanica Hymn Revised
There are shadows in my dreams that I see
While I walk at night in the park in London riding my horse
But the shadows seen to follow me like a living ghost
Can I call this ghost the living ghost of London?
Or is somebody that is following me in the dark?
But don't try to ask me who it is
because I can't see very well in the dark
Also the only light that is available in the park here in London
comes From the moon in the sky
But the moon is doing a good job to guide me
where I need to go from Point a to point b here in the park at London
poem by Aldo Kraas
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London city you claims your right
London city you claims your right
The moving city, days and nights.
it seem no one can sit still
but some do settles
Shifting and moving one place to another
Amazingly there not many Londoner,
Living in London
Widely proclaims by foreign
from every corner earth
We not invading city,
cos this the only city in the world
You can claims your right
Whom you are
Living city of the United Nation
London
poem by See Fee Lee
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Get Me Back
Get me back,
On that right track
Baby.
I kept myself delayed,
Playing dead end games
And strayed.
And so...
I figured that,
I need to get back on that track!
Wishing's not enough...
I have stopped my bluff and cussin'!
Get me back,
On that right track
Baby.
I kept myself delayed,
Playing dead end games
And strayed.
And so...
I figured that,
I need to get back on that track!
Wishing's not enough...
I have stopped my bluff and cussin'!
Abandoned is a self defeat,
That creeped!
It didn't feed me what I needed!
You helped me once get on my feet,
After sleepin'.
Much more of me I know...
Is yet complete!
Get me back,
On that right track
Baby.
I kept myself delayed,
Playing dead end games
And strayed.
And so...
I figured that,
I need to get back on that track!
Wishing's not enough...
I have stopped my bluff and cussin'!
I haven't done my best.
I have messed up in digressions!
Get me back,
On that right track
Baby.
I kept myself delayed,
Playing dead end games
And strayed.
I need to get back on that track!
With less rest to pave my way!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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London
We came from the far North
summered in Crimea
deserted the armed forces
had to disappear
made it to the free West
on a chartered flight
so we could see what
we trained to fight
We were in London
"Let's do it - let's break the law!"
We were in London
Tell it like it is
We were in London
Tell it like it is
Looking for hard work
or credit card fraud
What do you expect from us?
We come from abroad
to get ourselves a new job
on a building-site
They work you so hard
but we trained to fight
We were in London
"Let's do it - let's break the law!"
We were in London
Tell it like it is
We were in London
"Let's do it - let's break the law!"
We were in London
Tell it like it is
My father fought in Afghanistan
His widow's pension ain't worth a damn
My mother works and goes home to cry
I want to live before I die
We were in London
"Let's do it - let's break the law!"
We were in London
Tell it like it is
We were in London
Tell it like it is
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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