Brooke might tell a different story, but I've always loved the water.
quote by Christopher Atkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Brooke and I share some similarities. We're both passionate, fiercely loyal people. But she is far more outlandish than I'd ever be, particularly with her body and her sexuality. Brooke has made herself weak for men - she only gained self-confidence from their attention.
quote by Sophia Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It was really an experience, being my first time directing a movie. The scenes that I was in, Brooke really directed me all the time. And the scenes that both of us were in, Brooke directed those. Come to think of it, Brooke directed most of the scenes.
quote by Tony Shalhoub
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How The West Was Won And Where It Got Us
Blood from a stone, water from wine.
Born under earplay design.
A stroke of bad luck, wrong place, wrong time.
Let's fly up out of the lime.
The story is a sad one, told many times.
The story of my life in trying times.
Just add water, stir in lime.
How the west was won and where it got us.
Canary got trapped, the uranium mine.
A stroke of bad luck, now the bird has died.
A marker to mark where my tears run dry.
I cross it, bless it, alkali.
The story is a sad one, told many times.
The story of my life in trying times.
Just add water, stir in lime.
How the west was won and where it got us.
I didn't wear glasses cause I thought it might rain.
Now I can't see anything.
I made a mistake, chalked it up to design.
I cracked through time, space, Godless and dry.
I point my nose to the northern star,
Watch her decline from a hazy distance.
The story is a sad one, told many times.
The story of my life in trying times.
Just add water, stir in lime.
How the west was won and where it got us
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How The West Was Won & Where It Got Us
Blood from a stone
Water from wine.
Born under earplay design.
A stroke of bad luck,
Wrong place, wrong time.
Lets fly up out of the lime.
The story is a sad one, told many times.
The story of my life in trying times.
Just add water, stir in lime.
How the west was won and where it got us.
Canary got trapped, the uranium mine.
A stroke of bad luck, now the bird has died.
A marker to mark where my tears run dry.
I cross it, bless it, alkali.
The story is a sad one, told many times.
The story of my life in trying times.
Just add water, stir in lime.
How the west was won and where it got us.
I didnt wear glasses cause I thought it might rain.
Now I cant see anything.
I made a mistake, chalked it up to design.
I cracked through time, space, godless and dry.
I point my nose to the northern star,
Watch the decline from a hazy distance.
The story is a sad one, told many times.
The story of my life in trying times.
Just add water, stir in lime.
How the west was won and where it got us.
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song
The way of love was thus.
He was born one wintry morn
With hands delicious,
And it was well with us.
Love came our quiet way,
Lit pride in us, and died in us,
All in a winter's day.
There is no more to say.
poem by Rupert Brooke from The Collected Poems of Rupert Brooke, With a Memoir (1913)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Every Face Tells A Story
Look at the man in the corner, hes sitting all alone
His blankets are made out of cardboard,
His pillows are made out of stone
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
See the man walking on the water, see the light in his eyes
He came into the world with a message to tell,
He came into the world to die
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Youre always telling stories, youre always telling me lies
Youre always telling stories, why?
So think of yourself in the water, seeing your days flashing by
Its too late to see what you wanted to be,
Youve spent all your time, you must die
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Step down
And make it work out right
Im trying to get to you with my warning
Been there
For nearly half the night
Look its nearly four in the morning
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter LXXX: Story
Story about future is called imagination
Story about past is called memories
Story about present is called reality
Story that becomes true is called prophecy
Story that becomes unfulfilled is called regret
Story that becomes no end is called boasting
Small story is called experience
Epic story is called history
Forgotten story is called lesson
Story that becomes obsession is called ambition
Story that becomes untold is called secret
Story that becomes go its own way is called life
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tell Me A Story
Tell me a story that isn't gory
tell me a story that isn't fake
tell me a story where you made a mistake
tell me a story where the cows come home
tell me a story I want to know
tell me a story where the princess finds herself
not a prince who is more like an elf.
Tell me a story that I can laugh out loud
tell me a story where storm makes lighting clouds.
For in the end we only have our stories to tell
what make them funny, give them hell.
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tell Me A Story
Tell me a story that isn't gory
tell me a story that isn't fake
tell me a story where you made a mistake
tell me a story where the cows come home
tell me a story I want to know
tell me a story where the princess finds herself
not a prince who is more like an elf.
Tell me a story that I can laugh out loud
tell me a story where storm makes lighting clouds.
For in the end we only have our stories to tell
what make them funny, give them hell.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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On the Death of Smet-Smet, the Hippopotamus Goddess: Song of a Tribe of the Ancient Egyptians
(The Priests within the Temple)
She was wrinkled and huge and hideous? She was our mother.
She was lustful and lewd? — but a God; we had none other.
In the day She was hidden and dumb, but at nightfall moaned in the shade;
We shuddered and gave Her Her will in the darkness; we were afraid.
(The People within)
She sent us pain,
And we bowed before Her;
She smiled again
And bade us adore Her.
She solaced our woe
And soothed our sighing;
And what shall we do
Now God is dying?
(The Priests within)
She was hungry and ate our children;—how should we stay Her?
She took our young men and our maidens;—ours to obey Her.
We were loathed and mocked and reviled of all nations; that was our pride.
She fed us, protected us, loved us, and killed us; now She has died.
(The People within)
She was so strong;
But Death is stronger.
She ruled us long;
But Time is longer.
She solaced our woe
And soothed our sighing;
And what shall we do
Now God is dying?
poem by Rupert Brooke from The Collected Poems of Rupert Brooke, With a Memoir (1918)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Loved
Loved
Written by Ricky Wilde & Terry Ronald
Take all your goodness and shiness away
I'll tell you the things I've been longing to say
I'll break it to you just so you understand
The force and control that you hold in your hands
Make me the beat of your heart
Then fall into mine
One step at a time
You have no reason for doubting your feelings
Love isn't always the same
You are loved
You are loved
You are loved
You I love
You
You are loved
You are loved
You are loved
You I love
You
(Ooh you are loved)
Live for the moment according to you
And so when the time comes you know what to do
Trust me, I'm giving no secret away
I'm drowning in you but I want it that way
Make me the beat of your heart
Then fall into mine
One step at a time
You have no reason for doubting your feelings
Love isn't always the same
You are loved
You are loved
You are loved
You I love
You
You are loved
You are loved
You are loved
You I love
You
You are loved
(Ooh you are loved)
You are loved
You are loved
You I love
You
You are loved
(Ooh you are loved)
You are loved
You are loved
You I love
You
Rise to my world, fly to my arms
I love you
I'll make it for good, I'll make it forever
you know you are loved
Make me the beat of your heart
Love isn't always the same
You are loved
Ooh you are loved
(Loved you are)
(Loved you are)
(Loved you are loved)
Ooh you are loved
(Loved you are)
(Loved you are)
(Loved you are loved)
Ooh you are loved
You are loved
You are loved
You are loved
You I love
You
Ooh you are loved
You are loved
You are loved
You are loved
You I love
You
(You are the only one I love)
You are loved
(Loved you are)
You are loved
(Loved you are)
You are loved
You I love
You
(You are the only one I love)
You are loved
(Loved you are)
You are loved
(Loved you are)
You are loved
You I love
You
(You are the only one I love
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Daughter
Why is the world at peace.
This may astonish you a little but when you realise how
easily Mrs. Charles Bianco sells the work of American
painters to American millionaires you will recognize that
authorities are constrained to be relieved. Let me tell you a
story. A painter loved a woman. A musician did not sing.
A South African loved books. An American was a woman
and needed help. Are Americans the same as incubators.
But this is the rest of the story. He became an authority.
poem by Gertrude Stein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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4. Elements – Water
Water an elemental
Water a fundamental
Building block of life
Water of Life
Water of Death
Water in all religions
Water in all living things
Water in all countries
Water also used for barter
No life without water
No rife with water
No respect for water
Willful neglect of water
Water, for cooking
Water, for cleaning
Water, for drinking
Water, for living
Water, for dying
Water is the same
In all languages
Water is the same
To all living beings
poem by Anand Dixit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Glass Of Water Please
and so the story wants to end itself with a
glass of water.
those who cry after always need
a glass of water.
those whose hearts are broken
those who sob
those who close the window of the niche
those who have nightmares
those who wake up at 3 o'clock in the morning
those who sit on bed and cannot sleep back
always go to the kitchen
open the refrigerator
get a glass and splash
a cold glass of water
this time, i am asking for a glass of water
for i could be
all of the above or you could be one of those
i have described
but who knows we are not one of those
who knows
we are but just anyone who is normally thirsty
and with nothing to ask
simply ask
for a glass of cold water.
and cheerfully, we do not forget to say
please....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XXII
You know the story of my birth, the name
Which I inherited for good and ill,
The secret of my father's fame and shame,
His tragedy and death on that dark hill.
You know at least what the world knows or knew,
For time has taken half the lookers--on,
As it took him, and leaves his followers few,
And those that loved him scarce or almost none.
To me, his son, there had remained the story,
Told and retold by her who knew it best,
A mystery of love, perhaps of glory,
A heritage to hold and a bequest.
Ah, how it loved him, that sad woman's heart,
What faith was hers and what a martyr's part!
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Biker Like An Icon
There was a girl who loved a biker
She used to follow him across america
But the biker didnt like her.
She didnt care, she still persisted
Though her brother said she was twisted
And the family said they wouldnt miss her
Anyway.
She loved the biker like an icon
Gazing at his picture everyday.
She loved the biker like an icon
Slowly watching precious water drip away.
She did her best to fix a meeting
She pulled it off one night in hollywood
When he met her he couldnt let her get away.
He didnt ask for her permission
He took advantage of her position
But he was always her ambitiion
Anyway.
She loved the biker like an icon
Gazing at his picture everyday.
She loved the biker like an icon
Slowly watching precious water drip away.
The family tried so hard to find her
They showed her picture across america.
But no trace of her sweet face
Was ever found.
She loved the biker like an icon
Gazing at his picture everyday.
She loved the biker like an icon
Slowly watching precious water drip away.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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These times
And soon the vaults were empty
of the stuff we call money
as many lost sleep at night
in a dream of deep fright
Horrific story after story was told
by folks we know, and in the news
by folks starting careers so new
by folks growing tired and old
Then came a call so bold
carried by The Voice of old
to be learned from our Earth
in these times of dearth
Listen to the call my friends:
water for life
water for all
water for survival
water for food
water for stability
water for equality
One by one, people began to listen
of a new change rising on the horizon
But for some the call was lost
in hearts of heartless greed
who care not of water in time of need
And so the banks remained empty
of the stuff we call money
and many lost sleep at night
in a waking dream filled with fright
poem by William Waterway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Looking for Water
Still the leaves are spinning 'round
Take my hand as we go down, and down, and down
Looking for water
Well, our light's gone in a New York minute
Don't know about you, but my heart's not in it
(Looking, looking, looking)
I'm looking for water
I'm looking for water
(Looking, looking, looking)
I can't breathe the air, can't raise a fact
'Cause all we've got left is a beat in the night, and I'm
(Looking for water)
Looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
Take my hand as we go down, and down
Leave it all behind, nothing could be found
(I'm, looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
(I, looking for water)
Looking everywhere
(Looking for water)
Looking here and there
(I'm looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I can't live in this cage, I can't eat this candy
The edge of the earth to the spin in my head
The look in your eyes and never means never
The dawn's early light, baby, dark is forever
(Looking, looking)
(Looking, looking)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
song performed by by David Bowie, music by David Bowie, lyrics by David Bowie from Reality
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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These Times
And soon the vaults were empty
of the stuff we call money
as many lost sleep at night
in a dream of deep fright
Horrific story after story was told
by folks we know, and in the news
by folks starting careers so new
by folks growing tired and old
Then came a call so bold
carried by The Voice of old
to be learned from our Earth
in these times of dearth
Listen to the call my friends:
water for life
water for all
water for survival
water for food
water for economic stability
water in the name of equality
One by one, people began to listen
of a new change rising on the horizon
But for some the call was lost
in hearts of heartless greed
who care not of water in time of need
And so the banks remained empty
of the stuff we call money
and many lost sleep at night
in a waking dream of deep fright
poem by William E. Marks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He Walked On Water
He wore starched white shirts buttoned at the neck,
And hed sit in the shade and watch the chickens peck.
And his teeth were gone, but what the heck,
I thought that he walked on water.
He said he was a cowboy when he was young.
He could handle a rope and he was good with a gun.
And my mamas daddy was his oldest son,--
And I thought that he walked on water.
Chorus
If the storys told, only heaven knows.
But his hat seemed to me like an old halo.
And although his wings, they were never seen.
I thought that he walked on water.
Then he tied a cord to the end of a mop,
And said, son, heres a pony, keep her at a trot.
And Id ride in circles while he laughed alot.
Then Id flop down beside him.
And he was ninety years old in sixty-three
And I loved him and he loved me.
And lord, I cried the day he died,
cause I thought that he walked on water.
Chorus
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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