I have played for 15 years and it has been a dream.
quote by Sachin Tendulkar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Played The Game Of Words For Years
I PLAYED THE GAME OF WORDS FOR YEARS
I played the game of words for years-
It did not bring me to Fame and Fortune-
I tried and tried,
But no one really cared for what I did.
Now I am quite old,
It appears I will never get to where I wanted to go,
I have sadness and regret for this,
But I doubt I can change it.
Life is not necessarily what we dream it will be
We strive,
But God may give us something different from what we hoped.
I am still alive
I am writing this now
I have had many years to write and try
I thank God for that.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I've played heavies for years and years and years. I was bald. I came to Hollywood. I did a play about junk. I was a pusher, so I played pushers for years and years and years. I did war movies and things like that.
quote by Gavin MacLeod
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He's only 4 years old, so I don't think he realized, you know, that I played so many years. Of course, we watch tapes here from the Stanley Cup years, but I don't think he realized how many years I played.
quote by Mario Lemieux
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dream On
You want some action
Satisfaction
Your days in a haze
You are taking your time
Seeing the world as radiant
Where micacles shine
I said, dream on, dream on, dream on
I have been a king
I have been a slave
Stayed in bed
Lived untamed
Played the fool
Changed lovers
Out of sight out of mind
You will change, you will change she cried
I said, dream on, dream on, dream on, baby ....
song performed by by Xymox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You have to remember that I played longer than anybody else on the main tour; I played until I was 40, and then played another six years or so on the seniors tour.
quote by Jimmy Connors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Dream Lover
I saw you in m dream last night,
Bu i am three years older than you are;
I saw you in my dream last night,
But you were three years younger than i am;
My dream lover where are you?
You were so beautiful in my dream,
What is your name my dream lover?
I saw you in my dream last night,
Where do you come from my dream lover?
Beauty do bath you all over and,
I want to know your house number;
What is your telephone number my dream lover?
I saw you in my dream last night and,
I do hope to meet you soon.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I Had A Dream 2
I had a dream many years ago;
countless people would know my name
and many would appreciate
all the things I did.
As the years turned into a score,
I wondered if my dream
was only just a dream
and reality had something else in store for me.
Another score of years went by,
my dream began to lose its glow,
and the dark fringes of reality
slowly began to step in.
My dream seem to be an outcast now
something you didn’t associate with,
but it left among the embers
hot coals to ignite the flame again.
More years now went by
totalling to almost half a century
when the dream began to ignite
and become reality again.
The stars don’t seem so far out of reach
and the mountains not so hard to climb,
but was the journey worth it
now questions linger on my mind.
In the wastelands of my past
lie things I will never get back.
The bitter pill of payment for whatever
I may receive from my dream.
6 August 2010
poem by David Harris
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What Are You To Me?
(Day dream...day dream...)
Day dream...(day dream...)
So many times i've overfloated
So many faces come and go
I played my cards into the sun
and tried to work out
What you are to me
Been here before
A million open doors
Only one would set me free
So i fought against the wall
And tried to work out
What you are to me, to me, to me, to me...
To me......
Beside my eyes
The answer lies
Something i can't see
Another day
Another way
So they say to me, to me
To me..., to me..., to me...
(what's wrong?)
To me... (to me...)
To me... (to me...)
To me... (to me...)
To me... (to me...)
song performed by by Unkle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Church of the Little Drummer Boy
He didn't do it for money,
He didn't to it for power,
It wasn't an inside job,
And he probably wasn't real.
But he wasn't controlled by the Mafia,
Maybe he was just a dream,
Or maybe just a hope,
Of what Christmas might mean.
Over the years many a child
Has heard of the Little Drummer Boy,
How he played his drum for Jesus
To bring the Baby some joy.
He didn't do it to be a big shot,
He wasn't Ginger Baker,
He played out of musical love,
And he wasn't a faker.
If you're looking for religion,
The Drummer Boy is good to go,
I mean, he's as churchy as it gets,
Considering the show.
poem by Richard Jarboe
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On Seeing A Photograph
A photo of an ageing face stirs an old memory
He is plainly not a shadow of the man he used to be
His balding head is hoary gray his hair it was dark brown
When we played football as teenagers in the park in our Hometown.
He was a sprightly youth back then two years younger than I
On looking back the decades the years just seemed to fly
He played football worked in the fields and walked miles every day
But like me he seems the worst for wear the years have left us gray.
Perhaps we would be strangers now if by chance we did meet
We might not recognize each other in passing on the street
We age a little every day time of us all takes care
And leaves us looking in the end the very worst for wear.
A photograph of one I knew from many years ago
And he has aged as I have aged time on us all does show
We played football together when we were near to our life's prime
But in the end we all lose out to ageless father time.
poem by Francis Duggan
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My Friends Back In My Prime Years
My friends back in my prime years I never did disown
It's just that I live far from them and apart we have grown
We drank and played football together but our separate ways we've gone
And we have forged new friendships and life of course goes on.
My friends back in my prime years may now look a bit gray
And they might not know me or I might not know them if by chance we met today
In my memory they have remained young but in reality
The years have left their mark on them as the years have left their mark on me.
Old father time the aloof one to anyone doesn't bow
And some of my friends of my prime years may be grand parents now
Perhaps they now are showing their age and time has left them slow
They could run fast as I recall some twenty years ago.
My friends back in my prime years I may now not recognize
For time leaves it's mark on all of us I've come to realize
I drunk beer with them in the pub and with them played football
And that was many years ago as I can well recall.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Dream
last night you are in my dream but,
two days before you are not.
Tomorrow you will be in my dream but, today you are not.
Twenty years back you are not in my dream but,
I believe after twenty years you will be in my dream.
poem by Hassan Tanvir Mansur
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A Boyhood Sporting Hero
Most boys have their sporting heroes and mine played Gaelic Football
The mighty Mick O Connell the greatest I recall
But Mick O played for Kerry and Cork my favourite team
And to play football good as him was many school boy's dream
The finest Gaelic Footballer that I have ever seen
Not rough or hard in any way but classical and clean
And though that was many years ago and far so far away
Of great player from Valentia the memory with me stay.
When Mick O's playing days were over he faded from the scene
But memories of his playing feats will remain evergreen
His high fielding and kicking and his passing of the ball
The complete Gaelic Footballer the greatest of them all.
He never hogged the limelight he seemed so quiet and shy
But he was sporting hero to many school going boy
And even many who did not support Kerry will still tell you today
That Valentia's Mick O Connell was the best they had seen play.
My hero played for Kerry and Cork my favourite team
And to be good a player as him an early teenage dream
But as a Gaelic Footballer I never made the grade
And I won't be remembered for any game I played.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I Had A Dream
(copyright nazareth,tiflis tunes,inc.-ascap)
I had a dream
I had a dream
I saw the mission band,playing on the green
It was the saddest thing,i have ever seen
What did it mean,what did it all mean?
And in my dream,in my same dream
I saw the soldiers marching,on the green
The band played a funeral march
Many a tear was seen
All in my dream,all in my dream
Lead
I heard the lesson read,i heard the choir
I saw the falling leaves,landing everywhere
I saw the family gathered,crying in despair
I was not there,i was not there
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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During the course of the seven years I played scenes with an oil slick, I played a scene with a grain of rice. Sometimes with indescribable creatures. I remember having a conversation with something which was simply a smell, that's all. It was part of our job.
quote by Patrick Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think Jim Taylor was very underrated, never hear much about him. We played Green Bay every year in exhibition, and generally we played them every couple of years in regular season. And I always thought he was a fierce competitor.
Butterfly Dreams
The dreams of my heart
my mind doth pass
In my dream of butterflys
for they hug me
without sound
Nothing stays with me to long
In my dream of butterflys
they lift me from this ground
But I have had from
since as a child
In my dream of butterflys
they so still my mind
The deep solace of song
In my dream of butterflys
they flutter for there posied.
In my dream of butterflys
my daughter now is four
If that should ever leave me
In my dream of butterflys
such delight my eyes
forever roam
Let me find life and stay
In my dream of butterflys
soft weaved wings
they always have
With wings whose tunes
are played out and not
forgotten
In my dream of butterflys
linen is does my neice now lay.
Like the rain of yesterday
rainbow weaved it is
thus so
In my dream of butterflys
heavens light doth shine
so true.
In my dream of butterflys
no cut nor sting
for all will sing
for the beauty with
out flowers no dream.
poem by Uloia Norris Moore
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Butterfly Dreams 2 ('The Dreams of My Heart)
The dreams
of my heart
my mind
doth pass
In my dream
of butterflys
for they
hug me
without
sound
Nothing stays
with me to long
In my dream of
butterflys
they lift me
from this ground
But I have
had from
since as a
child
In my dream
of butterflys
they so still
my mind
The deep solace
of song
In my dream
of butterflys
they flutter for they
are posied
In my dream
of butterflys
my daughter
now is four
In my dream of
butterflys
such delight
to my eyes
forever
may roam
Let me find life
and stay
In my dream of
butterflys
Soft weaved wings
they always have
of which we sing
With wings whoms
tunes
are played
out and not
forgotten
In my dream of
butterflys
linen in does
my neice now
lay
Like the rain
of yesterday
rainbow weaved
it is
thus so
In my dream of
butterflys
heavens light
doth shine
so true
In my dream of
butterflys
no cut
nor sting
for all
will sing
for the
beauty with
out flowers
no dream
poem by Uloia Norris Moore
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I have played in rain before. I have played in wind before. I have played in cold before, but not all put together. They were the hardest conditions I ever played in.
quote by Michelle Wie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ancient chippewa tradition
The dream net has been made
For many generations
Where spirit dreams have played.
Hung above the cradle board,
Or in the lodge up high,
The dream net catches bad dreams,
While good dreams slip on by.
Bad dreams become entangled
Among the sinew thread.
Good dreams slip through the center hole,
While you dream upon your bed.
This is an ancient legend,
Since dreams will never cease,
Hang this dream net above your bed,
Dream on, and be at peace.
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Simona Enache
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