Having been to Europe and working and traveling there, the restaurants my wife and I remember were always off the beaten trail restaurants. So I tried to seek a little 'off the beaten trail,' but cool area.
quote by Todd English
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I don't go to the cool, trendy restaurants. I go to either the holes in the wall or the super-fancy restaurants where there are no cool people.
quote by Tyra Banks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beaten To The Punch
You say that you can and then you run to get your mummy
And youre almost beaten to the punch
Looking for the man who sold you the dummy
And youre almost beaten to the punch
Laughing at the older guys who say its just as well
Saved by the wedding bell
Almost beaten to the punch
Youre looking for somebody new that you can knock around
You are almost beaten to the punch
If youve got a head for figures then youd better count me out
You were almost beaten to the punch
You pulled the piece but you soon called it love
You go hand in glove
Almost beaten to the punch
Your body speaks much louder than your voice
You let it do the talking so I dont have any choice
Now you find the younger guys are putting up resistance
And youre almost beaten to the punch
You better get out now because youll never go the distance
And youre almost beaten to the punch
Youll find a girl and youll promise her anything
Even a wedding ring
Almost beaten to the punch
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pitiful
as I recall when my stomach turned
and I was hiding away from myself
away from you
like nothing but something was terribly wrong
and I admit that I was only waiting for the right time (right time)
right moment for you to look away
though you never did I pretended for a while
so I could walk where I don't belong
I remember every word you said
come back in time come back
and I remember I was too beaten
pitiful so pitiful
but I know as they hammered those nails
into your beautiful hands
your eyes they tried to search for mine
but I look away
now your eyes are the only thing that can save me
I'm still afraid of them piercin'
you break into my prison
just pretended for a while
my soul is sad and I walk away
I remember every word you said
come back in time come back
and I remember I was too beaten
pitiful so pitiful
pitiful
pitiful
pitiful
pitiful
so pitiful
and I remember every word you said
but this time I won't look away
and I remember every word you said
and this time I won't look away
and I remember every word you said
come back in time come back
and I remember I was so beaten
pitiful so pitiful
and I remember every word you said (pitiful)
come back in time come back (pitiful)
and I remember I was too beaten (pitiful)
pitiful so pitiful
song performed by by Blindside from Silence
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And The Heavens Cried(Trail of Tears)
You could see the clouds
rolling across the sky
as the day started to rain
teardrops of blood across the land
lost in their visions of doubt
buried in their pain
white man had all the say
we were left to taciturn
as we watched everything burn
and the heavens cried
on the trail of tears
On some beaten shore
we watched the ships come in
one by one, our land wore thin
we could just watch with closed eyes
as the promises made were just lies
they said you don't belong here anymore
behind their mask, they wore a disguise
and the heavens cried
on the trail of tears
Blood spilled on our sacred ground
leaving a unwanted stain
where mighty warriors once made a stand
we never could walk hand in hand
when they lived by so much greed
we watched our people fall
thousands must bleed
still all we could do is try
and the heavens cried
on the trail of tears
Guided by the spirit wind
we held on to our pride
something they could'nt take away
as so many died
through our darkest years
and the heavens cried
on the trail of tears
(spiritwind-2009)
poem by Spiritwind Wood
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Woman, Made a Punching Bag of Man
A woman, beaten by the cruel hands of her man
Beaten as she raises her voice to challenge his words
Beaten as she goes out to celebrate her freedom
Beaten as she refuses to do what he orders and wants.
And the battered woman accepts her tragic lot
Bearing the marks of violence on her own body
Longing for golden days of love and romance
Lamenting on her destiny as punching bag of man.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Now the restaurants have begun to catch up with the wine-making; there are numerous great restaurants in Napa Valley, and it's wonderful because the people are there for just that: great food and great wine.
quote by Thomas Keller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We will emerge stronger as a diverse community; the area will be rebuilt with life around the clock, new buildings, restaurants, places of entertainment.
quote by George Pataki
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I was working in restaurants as a captain and as a waiter.
quote by Sally Schneider
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crack Up A Track to Point a Nowhere
Oh this cool lonely road to nowhere
heave a trapping underneath my skin
it shooves no wrinkle upon rocky thorns
like bluish armament in subtle aims.
Oh this cool lonely trail to nowhere
brings up my feet in tracking still
my feet have anchored so much pain
in place of anger over the chain.
Oh this cool lonely path to nowhere
I see better than a sublime walk upon it
neither the hallowed ground can make a trail
to a lonely man like me walking in ambush keel.
poem by Gil Gregorio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Looking For Sugar!
following the trail of the ants,
past empty factory buildings.
past fields not planted.
past vacant store fronts.
past cars up on blocks,
and signs yelling 'for rent'...
following the trail of the ants,
looking for sugar!
following the trail of the sun,
from day unto night.
from family to forsaken.
from home to the road.
from god to the faces
that ring like haunted church bells,
following the trail of the sun...
looking for sugar!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So Tired
Scent on a postcard
A memory left behind
Warm hand, cool look but no time...
Winsome lose some
Hung up on old flame
My heart depends on fire
So who am I to make demands on love?
...relax and walk on by
So tired
So tired
Beaten like a drum
So tired
Living life alone
So tired
Beaten like a drum
Kiss the right faces
And tap the party line
Short measure of cheap skate pleasure
Easier said than done
Sip the night water
But not too drunk to say
Well just who am I to ever hope to love you?
Id turn and shy away
So tired
So tired
Beaten like a drum
So tired
Living life alone
So tired
Beaten like a drum
Once upon a bed
You said you loved me
Once upon a bed
Those eyes of blue
Now what am I supposed to do?
So tired -
So tired
Beaten like a drum
So tired
Live my life alone, so alone
Once upon a bed
You said you loved me
Once upon a bed
Those eyes of blue
And what am I to rhyme with you?
Now I lie alone and so defenceless
Dream of love in sunny daze with you
So tired...
song performed by by Haircut 100
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Trail
The trail in the Winter is lonely
The loneliest place I know
But the trail is the place that I go to
When my troubles I can't let go
The howl of the wind keeps me company
And it's stiff cold slap on my face
Awakens me to the moment
A moment that is filled with God's grace
I remember the sweet smell of Summer
The colors still fresh on my brain
But the odors and colors of Summer
Are replaced by the dampness and rain
Yet the pull of the trail is a strong one
And nothing could keep me away
Not ten pots of gold and a promise
That it all could be mine someday
'Cause the trail is my church and my temple
And no greater peace can be found
Than the peace and the glory around me
That in the forest abounds
Written by Sara Fielder © 1997
poem by Sara Fielder
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We stay in U2's hotel. They bought a hotel, The Clarence, a nice place and it's in an area where everything's happening, so many fantastic restaurants and bars and the people are so friendly.
quote by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beaten Into Sweetness
Beaten into sweetness.
Like grapes to produce,
A fine wine sipped.
Beaten into sweetness.
To allure and maintain,
A sizable profit held in a firm fist.
And every whiff of it sniffed,
Satisfied to the very last drop.
Beaten into sweetness.
Although a sadness carried,
Inside would not stop!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Being unemployed is not good for an actor. No, it isn't, no matter how unsuccessful you are. Because you always remember getting fired from all the restaurants. You remember that stuff very, very strongly.
quote by Philip Seymour Hoffman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Remember I told you 2
What the heck is it with you?
Why cant you see things like I do?
I see it all so very clear.
Its all clearer by the day.
Why cant you just let me go?
I cant live my life any more.
All I can do is think of my new forfound end.
Please just let me go now
Im sick and tired of fighting.
The past has beaten me
But then it had beaten me from the start.
So please please let me go
I ve nothing left to give
I cant forgive.
So when you find me cold and stiff.
Just remember I told you
I told you Id do it
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walk on a rainbow trail; walk on a trail of song, and all about you will be beauty. There is a way out of every dark mist, over a rainbow trail.
quote by Robert Motherwell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lone Trail
Ye who know the Lone Trail fain would follow it,
Though it lead to glory or the darkness of the pit.
Ye who take the Lone Trail, bid your love good-by;
The Lone Trail, the Lone Trail follow till you die.
The trails of the world be countless, and most of the trails be tried;
You tread on the heels of the many, till you come where the ways divide;
And one lies safe in the sunlight, and the other is dreary and wan,
Yet you look aslant at the Lone Trail, and the Lone Trail lures you on.
And somehow you're sick of the highway, with its noise and its easy needs,
And you seek the risk of the by-way, and you reck not where it leads.
And sometimes it leads to the desert, and the togue swells out of the mouth,
And you stagger blind to the mirage, to die in the mocking drouth.
And sometimes it leads to the mountain, to the light of the lone camp-fire,
And you gnaw your belt in the anguish of hunger-goded desire.
And sometimes it leads to the Southland, to the swamp where the orchid glows,
And you rave to your grave with the fever, and they rob the corpse for its clothes.
And sometimes it leads to the Northland, and the scurvy softens your bones,
And your flesh dints in like putty, and you spit out your teeth like stones.
And sometimes it leads to a coral reef in the wash of a weedy sea,
And you sit and stare at the empty glare where the gulls wait greedily.
And sometimes it leads to an Arctic trail, and the snows where your torn feet freeze,
And you whittle away the useless clay, and crawl on your hands and knees.
Often it leads to the dead-pit; always it leads to pain;
By the bones of your brothers ye know it, but oh, to follow you're fain.
By your bones they will follow behind you, till the ways of the world are made plain.
Bid good-by to sweetheart, bid good-by to friend;
The Lone Trail, the Lone Trail follow to the end.
Tarry not, and fear not, chosen of the true;
Lover of the Lone Trail, the Lone Trail waits for you.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who’ll Wear the Beaten Colours?
Who’ll wear the beaten colours—and cheer the beaten men?
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, till our time comes again?
Where sullen crowds are densest, and fickle as the sea,
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, and wear them home with me?
We closed the bars and gambling dens and voted straight and clean,
Our women walked while motor cars were whirling round the scene,
The Potts Point Vote was one for Greed and Ease and Luxury
With all to hold, and coward gold, and beaten folk are we.
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, with hands and pockets clean?
(I wore the beaten colours since I was seventeen)
I wore them up, and wore them down, Outback and across the sea—
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, and wear them home with me?
We wore them back from Ladysmith to where the peace was signed,
And wore them through the London streets where Jingoes howled behind.
We wore them to the Queen’s Hall, while England yelled “Pro-Boers!”
And sat them over victory while London banged the doors.1
We wore them from Port Arthur round till all sunk in the sea—
(Who’ll wear the white man’s colours, and wear them home with me?)
I’ve worn them through with gentlemen, with work-slaves and alone—
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, boys, and wear them on his own?
There’s one would look with startled eyes and shrink while I caressed,
Came I not with the colours of the conquered on my breast.
And twenty thousand Bushmen would stand with hands behind
And scorn in all their faces for the coward of his kind.
Who’ll wear the beaten colours and raise the voice they drowned—
It may be when we march again, they’ll bear some other sound—
Who’ll pin the beaten colours on and drive the beaten pen—
It may be other steel and ink when we march out again.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Novocain Stain
When I can work out how it was
Then I'll tell you
TV stained my memories, yeah
I don' think that she's...
Remember through sounds
Remember through smells
Remember through colors
Remember through towns
With fear and fascination
On what was here
And what's replacing them now
Interchange plazas a mall
And crowded chain restaurants
More housing developments go up
Named after the things they replace
So welcome to Minnow Brook
And welcome to Shady Space
And it all seems a little abrupt
No I don't like this change of pace
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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