When my grandfather died, I started adopting some of his accents, to sort of remind myself of him. A homage. He was a war hero, and he was really great with his hands.
quote by Gavin DeGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I started in London, as a kid. My mother knew I had sort of an inbred talent. She was an actress, so I inherited it from her. But I think I got a lot of it from my grandfather, who was a great politician.
quote by Angela Lansbury
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be My Hero Be My Knight
When all the men died in my world
I have you the only one left
When all the important men died suddenly
You're taking a helicopter to come
You started a new revolutionary
But be careful, don't die yourself in it.
Let everybody know your name
Let you be my Hero be my Knight.
I'm a slim woman with a mask
and a walking stick
Let you be my Hero be my Knight
If you still have a little pity on me
Come on time, be My hero be My knight.
poem by Yihuai Ying
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A Hero?
Her hero is pretty and thin
Her hero is a hero to many
A hero of fame and a hero of fortune
A role model, a hero of glamour
Her hero is a hero to many
His hero is fit and fast
His hero is a hero to many
A hero of sport, a hero of games
A role model, a hero of victory
His hero is a hero to many
Her hero is clever yet plane
Her hero is a hero to few
A hero of science, a hero of logic
A role model, a hero of knowledge
Her hero is a hero to few
His hero is a hero of art but he is poor
His hero is a hero to few
A hero of word a hero of writings
A role model, a hero of language
His hero is a hero to few
But that’s the thing with your heros....
Hero worship is only skin deep.
poem by Timothy Venard
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Not Leavin? Yet
Come lie next to me Jesus Christ
holes in hand where a cross used to fit just right
the meeting called...the topic: a ladies fate
you don't have to remind me
I won't be late
please excuse me, I'm sorry, I just can't wait
and don't use grandfather as the bait
down the hall a baby boy just born
rosaty around a crown of thorns
please excuse me, I'm sorry, I just can't wait
and don't use grandfather as the bait
no...
can't you see the lady's not ready
hands and feet are bound and unsteady
in the hall the family's grieving
I'm the one who stays
I'm not leavin' yet
song performed by by Nickelback
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not A Hero To All
The greatness of the greats we well may recall
But the hero to many not a hero to all
Not everyone holds big names in high esteem
Some are not easy to impress it does seem
That no two are the same does seem fair to say
And some not into hero worship in any sort of a way
In the ranks of the star struck they do not join the throng
And who is to say in thinking they are wrong
Yes not everyone looks up to the great one as great
And the ranks of the star struck never join to celebrate
The praises of heroes they never do sing
They go their own way and they do their own thing
You will never see them at a victory parade
Out of all sorts of people Humanity is made.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Final Old Hero
The final old hero has faded away
His bones even beyond the state of decay
He gave rise to many a patriotic song
But to Mother Nature he finally belong.
He was a great King in a Land from here far
And he was one who led his army in war
He died a true hero on the battle-ground
And stories about him in folklore abound.
No heroes amongst the war leaders of today
From the heat of the battle they stay far away
The children of others for them fight and die
And the rewards of renown and wealth they enjoy.
I see them as manipulative deceitful and sly
Yet that the majority cannot see through them I do wonder why
For what they truly are many them cannot see
And the hero to many is a coward to me.
Though his legend inspired the bards for to rhyme
The final old hero almost forgotten in time
He led his men in war and in battle he died
And true greatness of him never can be denied.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I guess one of the funniest memories of my grandfather was the time I was at his house and that tied-up man with the gag in his mouth came hopping out of the closet and started yelling that HE was really my grandfather and the other guy was an imposter and to run for help. Who was that guy Oh, well, never saw HIM again.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Remind Me Of Gold
Baby, when I think about you
And thats when I think
I think about gold
You remind me of gold
And when I see the sunrise in the sky
And when I hear your brakes come squealing by
I forget
Everything Ive been told
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
Baby I always think about you
I think of the life and glory you hold
You remind me of gold
And even though there was no sun today
And though you are a thousand miles away
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This is not to say that the Scots are not fine people, but they were all sort of... well, my grandfather was a minister and sort of Protestant, and this was rather depressing to me.
quote by Alan Hovhaness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To be Hero
A hero is some one looked upto
Who others may love to be
A hero never loss hope
To be hero means to be courageous
And willing to put their life aside for another person
A hero is anybody or somebody that was loved
To be hero, must be successful
To be hero, may not be superhuman but must saved
If they say i'm to be hero
Hero must lead by sample because everyman is hero
Every hero is man
poem by Olaniyan Kehinde Hero Hko
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From pools of blood
From pools of blood bushes, trees
and aloes grow in the veldt
where British soldiers
fired on my countrymen
and some bayoneted them.
Concentration camps where twenty thousand
women and children died without dignity
at the hand of foreigners,
who claimed to be fellow Christians
are now covered with grass
and that past are being blotted out
as if the misery, the indignity,
the mass murder
never happened
and great Queen Victoria
is still dignified
and still I hold Great Britain responsible
for the murder of my great grand mother,
for the destruction
of my great grand father’s farm,
for the seizure
of my other great grand father’s property,
for sending him to St. Helena
as a prisoner of war,
for invading my country
for making profit from the minerals
and the quarter Scotsman in me
together with my three quarters Afrikaner parts
forever wants to be free
from the enslavement
which that foreign nation brought.
[Note: My own great grandmother died in a British concentration camp and my great grandfather was sent by the British to St. Helena as a prisoner of war and as a result of this, my grandfather(Gert Strydom) grew up in a orphanage.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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I am My Hero
Of
course! !
I am a hero,
my hero,
your hero,
CNN hero,
Fox Taxis Oil toxic hero
my street mate hero,
my African roommate hero,
United nation hero,
unesco
unicef
moncef
duracef
charl
du champs hero,
picasso hero
mozart,
bethoven
chichina
lovesky
hero,
and everybody hero?
of! course! ! ! ! !
-not off course-
I LOVE
MYSELF...
DO YOU THINK
OR DREAM
I OR i
WILL SELL MY SELF? ? ?
? ? ?
OR ASK FOR
YOUR
APPROVAL,
SQUARED AND OVAL
AS YOU
LOVE IT TO BE..
Of course i am
my own hero
but,
also
i am sure...
everyone is my hero.
poem by Atef Ayadi
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Hero?
Hail great hero!
Hero brave!
We praise you hero!
I your slave
Now duly fall
On giving knee
In hero worship
Unto thee!
Now did you hero save our globe
When draped in classic hero’s robe?
And did it flow as reddened blood
As battles raged in fields of mud?
Oh hero tell me of your fame:
Were writhing serpents fair your game?
Did you pierce the dragon’s heart
Intrepid hero; play the part
When Tyrant slain in hero’s fight
On quaking ground thro’ battle’s might?
And did you hero conquer evil -
Waste the minions of the devil?
Oh valiant hero, does your armour
Gleam from ventures steeped in valour?
Your sword oh hero, sparks a glint
From charging steel to give the hint
Of what great chapters Hero's Tome
Might tell to us when heroes roam
Through lands of yore when goblins vile
Sought a chance to kill for bile.
Oh hail thy hero,
Hero tall!
Bless you hero,
As I fall
In blushing shame,
I speak to me…
This mirror aids to fantasise
That I be hero worldly wise,
But meek and mild is all I am:
Hero naught; unbridled scam.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Hero hero hero hero
Hero hero hero hero
Hero hero hero hero
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Old Family Picture
In the old
black-and-white
family picture,
I see
great grandfather
dead drunk
with his hat
slightly skewed.
In the same old
black-and-white
family picture,
I see
grandfather
as drunk as
his father is
with his hat
also slightly skewed.
Father fools
great grandfather
and grandfather
with his rice-washed-water
as the good old home-made
Makoli.
They all believe him.
1996
poem by Sangnam Nam
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Heros
A Hero Fights For You
A Hero Stands By Your Side
A Hero Is Willing To Go An Inch Longer
A Hero Knows What It's Like To Lose Someone
A Hero Knows What To Do Right Then
A Hero Never Leaves Someone Behind
A Hero Has Someone To Make Them Who They Are
A Hero Will Never Risk Someone To Save Himself
A Hero Always Takes The Risk Just For The Last One
We All Have A Hero In Us
We All Need Are Hero
poem by Jamie Newcomb
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My grandfather was Catholic; my grandmother, Jewish. Crossing over from Bavaria, as immigrants to the United States, the ship started to sink. My grandmother jumped overboard. My grandfather followed, to save this girl he had never met.
quote by Emanuel Celler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Old Man With His Hat
There Little Robbie found him in an old yellow album
A blurred picture of a half old man with his hat
Standing in front of the coffin
He smiles shy but wide with his teeth gone making a hole like Little Robbie when he lose his baby teeth
Little Robbie doesn’t recognize him and he wonder where he is now
Maybe he is one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
So he asks to his big sister
But his sister doesn’t recognize him and she wonder who he is
Maybe he is one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
So he asks to his mother
But his mother doesn’t recognize him and she wonder how he was there
Maybe he is one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
So he asks to his father
But his father doesn’t recognize him and he wonder what he did there
Maybe he is one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
So he asks to his uncle
But his uncle doesn’t recognize him and he wonder when the picture taken
Maybe he is one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
So he asks hopelessly to his grandfather
His grandfather takes a deep look to that picture and wonders why Little Robbie asks
Little Robbie says, “I want to meet him! I want to know about him! I want to play with him! ”
Maybe he is one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
But his grandfather shakes his head, “No, he is not.”
He is not one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
He is just an old man with his hat
“He accompanied your great grandfather when he sick until his death. This picture is taken in a burial of your great grandfather.”
His grandfather stares at little Robbie
“Now, are you disappointed? ”
He is not one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
He is just an old man with his hat
Little Robbie shakes his head, “No, I am not.”
Though he is not one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
Though he is just an old man with his hat
“But I still want to meet him, I want to know about him, and I want to play with him! ”
And then he could be one of his grandfathers, one of his great uncles, one of his old families
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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That's a little homage in a way to that and also to create that sort of creepy atmosphere that Hitchcock did. Vertigo was one of his great movies that was shot right here in The City and it's about a woman and the psychological twists and so forth.
quote by Philip Kaufman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hero To You Not A Hero To Me
Suppose we all do look at things differently
The hero to you not a hero to me
Your hero renowned for his skills at football
Yet the hero to some not a hero to all
If on everything we did happen to agree
How utterly boring indeed we would be
Our different ways makes us more interesting as some like to say
No two look at life in exactly in the same way
You have your own hero and that suits me fine
But your sort of hero could never be mine
Of our different views on life I am all too aware
And so little in common we do have to share
We don't share common friends or we don't share common foes
Which makes us seem more interesting one would have to suppose.
poem by Francis Duggan
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He Died A Hero?
He died a hero
In a war of vague purpose
We really don't know
What it was for, I suppose.
An axis of evil?
A war on Terror-
But assessments reveal
Man's greed and error.
Was it about oil?
Who was the aggressor-
Did we make him recoil
Or were we the oppressor?
So where' s the victory
Where indeed is the end?
Death's the only reality
For the soldiers you send.
Familes now broken
Young and old lives lost,
Fathers and sons taken
Oh, at such a great cost!
'He died a hero'
Tell that to their children,
The pain of loss you don't know
As you plan a new war again.
....................... ................................................. ...........................
July 15,2009
Makati, Metro Manila
Philippines
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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