Friendships are forgotten when the game begins.
quote by Alvin Dark
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everybody Wins
Afterwards is when the game begins.
When games are being played they hardly are a game,
but once they’re over winners, losers both can blame
the other side, and everybody wins.
Johann Cruyff, the captain of the Dutch soccer team, said: “The game always begins afterwards” according to a review of “Brilliant Orange: The Neurotic Genius of Dutch Football, ” by David Winner (Bloomsbury) in The Economist, June 24,2000) .
6/25/00
poem by Gershon Hepner
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Friendships’ Yield
Friendships with the same genders
Produce in them confidence.
Friendships with opposite ones
Produce in them energy.
Hopes in them serve as a fuel.
Friendships last till hopes run out.
10.08.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I Haven't Forgotten
I haven't forgotten when I meet you first!
I haven't forgotten when I greet you last!
I haven't forgotten your pretty face!
I haven't forgotten your smile and grace!
I haven't forgotten how we started chatting!
I haven't forgotten when we started dating!
I haven't forgotten our last walk together!
I haven't forgotten how I became a loser!
I haven't forgotten how it became too late!
I haven't forgotten when I understood fate!
I haven't forgotten that summer's northwester!
I haven't forgotten and won't forget ever!
poem by Asif Andalib
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The most successful marriages, gay or straight, even if they begin in romantic love, often become friendships. It's the ones that become the friendships that last.
quote by Andrew Sullivan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every Morning...
since you have become my habit
as you are my favorite
i shall not fail the day seeing you
and my heart begins to beat
my feet to dance and my mind
begins to fly
like swordfishes to the sky
but i have not forgotten the rules
i can only see you but never touch
i can only think of you but never hug
neither can i kiss your lips
i can only sleep back and dream
again and again
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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There have been some friendships lost over this. That's the most difficult for me. I find it very uncomfortable to know that I was at one time close friends with someone, and because of jealousies and misunderstandings and so on, these friendships have dissolved.
quote by Donald Johanson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Is she holding on for fun
Is she holding on for fun, is this her kind of game
Or does she want to be with me, I guess it's not the same
Is she holding on for fun, I think her friendships real
I really hope her minds made up, her heart my heart can steal
I am holding on for love, a wish and dream so deep
I am here for keeps to stay, no game no way dont weep
I'll never use or cheat on her, or make her think that way
That I am only here for fun, Cos I am here to stay
poem by Bradley Lester
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My Would-be Saviour
You try and fill my mind with doubt
Say Ive forgotten who I am
But maybe youve forgotten how to understand...so
Bridge:
You try and fill my mind with doubt
Say Ive forgotten who I am
But maybe youve forgotten how to understand...so
Bridge:
Have your whispers, I excused myself too soon
Antisocial, maybe yes and maybe you
Chorus:
Two days after the flood begins to settle down
I sit alone in a room full of friends
My would-be savior slips something into my
Mouth...for kicks
You live a life without regret
Bend a truth until it breaks
I thought Id seen you at your best
But my mistake...so
(bridge)
(chorus)
song performed by by 8 Stops 7
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Gathering
A friend from my past
Proving, friendships can last
New and red blood
Rustles down my veins
Reviving my loyality
Diverted from
Emptyness and mystery
Suppressing silence
Entrusted friendships
Lasting to eternity.
poem by Howard Johnson
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Rambling 1
you once
had best friends
time breaks
bonds
you refuse to
accept
broken friendships
you hope
someday
that relationships
repair
and heal
themselves
you move on
rethinking
promising that
you can
live alone
online
chats are
everywhere
nothing serious
about
long lasting
and true
friendships
they cause pain
during
break-ups
too many
unkind words
said
others come back
for some
utilitarian
reasons and
you have learned
a lot
nothing lasts really
friendships are
like promises
like things that you
take in the house
and simply
outlive their
importance
or need
or use
yes, it has always
been the use
you are not
that
never a user
and
they are
and will always
be
and so
here you are
chatting with
yourself
in some kind
of poetry
you always plant
the seeds here
and there is no
pain in
seeding
you never get
the chance
to taste
its fruits anyway
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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As Long As I Have Your Love
(4.49)
Ten Thousand princes
I've seen them all
I've seen them come
And I've seen them fall
I've watched them win
I've watched them loose
Since you've been around
No-one gets to choose
Because when the game begins
And the time is now
When there is no more talking
Only here and now
There is only here and now
I ain't seen anything quite like you
Ain't been anyone quite like you
Then Thousand princes
All backs against the wall
Then Thousand loosers
When the winner comes to call
How they scream in frustration
Ten thousand reasons why
The rhetoric is endless
I see the laughter in your eyes
Because when the game begins
And the time is now
When there is no more talking
Only here and now
Only here and now
I ain't seen anything quite like you
Ain't been anyone quite like you
Written and performed by Chris Rea (vocals, guitars)
Bass by Silvan Marc
Keyboards by Max Middleton
Drums and percussion by Martin Ditcham
Transcribed by IITI
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Would-Be Savior
You try and fill my mind with doubt
Say I've forgotten who I am
But maybe you've forgotten how to understand.... so
Have your whispers, I excused myself too soon
Antisocial, maybe yes and maybe you
Two days after the flood begins to settle down
I sit alone in a room full of friends
My would-be savior slips something into my mouth.... for kicks
You live a life without regret
Bend a truth until it breaks
I thought I'd seen you at your best
But my mistake.... so
Have your whispers, I excused myself too soon
Antisocial, maybe yes and maybe you
Two days after the flood begins to settle down
I sit alone in a room full of friends
My would-be savior slips something into my mouth.... for kicks
You're sorry, yes you are
But what do you know?
You'll have to think this through on your own
Tries to play it safe
Wants to be afraid
Cannot do the same
Push it away
You try and fill my mind with doubt
Say I've forgotten who I am
But maybe you've forgotten how to understand.... so
Have your whispers, I excused myself too soon
Antisocial, maybe yes and maybe you
Two days after the flood begins to settle down
I sit alone in a room full of friends
My would-be savior slips something into my mouth.... for kicks
Tries to play it safe
Wants to be afraid
Cannot do the same
Push it away
song performed by by 8 Stops 7
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Winners Are Always The Heroes
The winners are always the heroes in life it is always this way
The losers are quickly forgotten though a fine and sporting
game they did play
'Tis only a sport it may well seem where people chase after a ball
But many take football quite seriously though 'tis only a game after all,
The winners are always the heroes and that's how it always will be
The fans of the winners are singing rejoicing in their victory
Life and sports are akin in many ways though some may say 'tis only a game
The winners get all of the applause and the winners can bask in their fame,
The winners are always the heroes and the winners get all of the praise
And always only to the winners the toasters their toasting glasses raise
The losers are quickly forgotten though some must lose for some to win
Yet some look on losing as shameful to them there is no greater sin,
In life as in sport the poor losers are the people the masses ignore
And in football the really big hero is the one who kicks the winning score.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Opposite Begins
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
That one agitated,
Finds an exit and splits.
People known to create conflict,
Seek an attention they don't get...
Until,
The opposite begins.
Opposition steps in.
They pretend a trust to believe,
To have others perceive but...
The opposite begins,
For them.
Wake up and take notice,
That the opposite begins for them.
Those who charade innocence.
The opposite begins for them.
Those masking evil intent.
The opposite begins for them.
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
Well,
The opposite begins.
The opposite begins.
And...
That one agitated,
Finds an exit and splits.
But then,
The opposite begins.
The opposite begins.
That one who's had it,
Splits and runs into love...
To know the opposite begins,
When someone genuine comes in...
To view.
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
Well,
The opposite begins.
The opposite begins.
And...
That one who's had it,
Splits and runs into love...
To know the opposite begins,
When someone genuine comes in...
To view.
They want it quick.
And...
When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
To then see someone who genuinely fits,
Well...
The opposite begins pursued.
Oh yes it does.
An opposite begins pursued.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Youve Forgotten
Youve been passed around from hand to hand
Cast upon the darkest sands
Now youre so confused that you can hardly stand
Forgotten, youve forgotten now youre on the run
Forgotten, youve forgotten
How to live beneath the sun
How to live beneath the sun
Before you left I thought I knew
That you would always need me too
I never thought someday, that Id be telling you
Youve forgotten, youve forgotten
The things you used to feel
Forgotten, youve forgotten
How to smile for real
How to smile for real
And for the changes you have made
Your beauty was the price you paid
All your dreams rose up and then you watched them fade.
Youve forgotten, youve forgotten
Youve forgotten, youve forgotten
The best is always yet to come
The best is always yet to come
The best is always yet to come
And how to live beneath the sun
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Oldest Game Played
The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.
Initiating disturbances,
And claiming to be victimized...
Is decreasing in its effectiveness.
People finally are opening their eyes.
The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.
They begin with pretense to befriend someone.
Like the smile of a demon,
To ensure its welcome.
And then to make claims...
Of something despicable the innocent one has done,
To then defame and assassinate good character...
With a perception that success,
Is soon to be won!
The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.
Those 'Woe is me I don't know what happened' facades...
Are being stripped away for what they are.
Those who deceive and lie,
With pity party invitations...
Have devastated friendships and relationships,
Behind masqueraded false faces.
The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.
'Why would they lie like that?
Deceive and create conflict? '
~What is it that you have they might perceive,
As a value to them? ~
'Well...
Nothing I haven't with them shared.'
~They did not want it shared!
They wanted it theirs.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Harvest Of Friendship
For Carol Gall & Patti Masterman
Friendships can come
from many places near and far,
sometimes even half a world away
with faces we cannot see,
but their touch we can always feel.
Invisible hands reach out
across the miles to gently touch another’s.
Unbreakable links are forged,
bonds never to be unbroken.
Silent voices of strangers are suddenly heard,
welcomed in from the silence
to a voice never heard.
Strength is gathered in
to defeat the demons
of a sometimes lonely life
as we harvest friendships into our lives.
Friendships and distance no longer matters.
Hands now link to chain a message
that no matter who we are
a candle of hope is on the horizon
to light up many lives.
8 December 2009
poem by David Harris
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The Journey
when you can look
in the mirror,
and see your self naked
without running like hell...
the journey begins!
when you can look
at your every action,
judging your self honestly
by motive and intent...
the journey begins!
when you can give away
all that you cling to
without asking for anything
in return...
the journey begins!
when you can do the right thing
irregardless of the cost,
not caring what anyone says
or thinks...
the journey begins!
when you can see the faces
of God in the people you
despise the most, the ones
who've hurt you the most...
the journey begins!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Only Doing My Small Part to Please
'But...
Why do we have to stop playing the game? '
No one said a thing about you stopping!
'But for our night games,
We can not see without the lights.
People here can not sit without the bleechers.
We need the balls and the bats!
Also the bases.
Have you forgotten that? '
I haven't forgotten anything.
In fact...
When you suggested,
I was nothing but what a dog does.
And it was on the bottom of your shoe...
That you could not get rid of?
I thought I'd do you all a favor,
And go home!
'But why are all of those people,
Taking all of our equipment away? '
Well...
I paid for the bleechers.
And...
Made a deal with the electric company,
To supply the lights.
The balls and bats I got from donations.
And all the people you see leaving...
I sent invitations.
And I made it clear to all of them,
If I should stink that bad...
What is the point of them sticking around,
To see a game played...
When you have announced,
You would rather not have me here!
'Oh?
So it's like that? '
I guess.
I'm only doing my 'small' part to please!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Let it be Forgotten
Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten,
Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold.
Let it be forgotten forever and ever,
Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.
If anyone asks, say it was forgotten
Long and long ago,
As a flower, as a fire, as a hushed footfall
In a long-forgotten snow.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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