So I'm trying to spread myself to the point to where I can do the night shows and not have to worry about the matinees, and do one or two matinees down through the year.
quote by Mickey Gilley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
I just went to see too many movies and I sat in too many dark matinees watching those old serials.
quote by Sam Elliott
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The other two things are... well, I had a huge appetite for old black and white movies on BBC 2. At the weekends they used to run matinees, and the more romantic the better.
quote by Ewan McGregor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sad Movies
Day and night we walk these aisles
In the same old movie show
And look for someone
to feel for a while.
There's matinees on Saturdays
When we sit in the velvet chairs
Popcorn boxes fly through the air.
Sad movies, they make you cry
Sad movies make you wonder why
You ever came.
Do something to me,
Don't make me wait
Stab something through me,
Don't cry out the good things
That I appreciate.
Day and night we walk these aisles
In the same old movie show
And look for someone
to feel for a while
The light's go on, the movie's gone
And the manager's up there
He says he doesn't care
And we take our money back.
Sad movies, they make you cry
Sad movies make you wonder why
You ever came.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Day & Night We Walk These Aisles
Day and night we walk these aisles
In the same old movie show
And look for someone to feel for a while.
Theres matinees on saturdays
When we sit in the velvet chairs
Popcorn boxes fly through the air.
Sad movies, they make you cry
Sad movies make you wonder why
You ever came.
Do something to me,
Dont make me wait
Stab something through me,
Dont cry out the good things
That I appreciate.
Day and night we walk these aisles
In the same old movie show
And look for someone to feel for a while
The lights go on, the movies gone
And the managers up there
He says he doesnt care
And we take our money back.
Sad movies, they make you cry
Sad movies make you wonder why
You ever came.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mockery Is High Art
The sky is stormy black,
Even scavenger birds
Are too disoriented to attack
On a day void of perceptible light.
My mind is crashing
Like a virus-infected computer
Impossible to reboot.
I’m not one to argue or dispute
What any woman would impute,
I take you solemnly at your word,
You never loved me.
The afternoons of tea,
The musicals and matinees,
The holding hands
During summer parades
Was all a charade.
And mockery is high art
That the naïve never learn to make,
But must always pay
The highest commission to receive.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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The Actress Hasn't Learned The Lines
English: Thus all fairy stories end
Only an actress would pretend
Affairs of state are her latest play
Eight shows a week 2 matinees
My how the worm begins to turn
When will the chorus girl ever learn
My how the worm begins to turn
When will the chorus girl ever learn
Eva: The chorus girl hasn't learned the lines you'd like to hear
She won't go scrambling over the backs of the poor to be accepted
By making donations just large enough to the correct charity
She won't be president of your wonderful societies of philanthropy
Even if you asked her to be
As you should have asked her to be
The actress hasn't learned the lines you'd like to hear
She won't join your clubs she won't dance in your halls
She won't help the hungry once a month at your tombolas
She'll simply take control as you disappear
Che: Forgive my intrusion but fine as those sentiments sound
Little has changed for us peasants down here on the ground
I hate to sound childish ungrateful I don't like to moan
But do you now represent anyone's cause but your own
Eva: Everything done will be justified by my foundation
song performed by by Madonna from Evita Soundtrack (Part 2)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Piece Of Myself... And For Myself
people in my place worry about me
why i do not worry about next year
the next planting season after this year's bumpy harvest where every room in the house is filled with corn.
people in my place ask me where shall i live after next year
and you should soon inherit the house that i built for 50 years.
they all worry about me with all those particular items like what shall happen
to the glasses in my cabinet
or the white car in my blue garage
or my gold watch and my silver spoons and my china plates
they worry about my gold fish in my aquarium
who shall feed them when i am no longer home
people worry a lot about me
and i begin sometimes when i get tired listening to all the questions
asking: why me? why do you worry all about me?
i am not even dead yet and have no plans retiring from life's works
like the arts and this
pottery and this poetry
people worry about me
and never about us.
i am tired and all i need is sleep.
and i do not worry at all.
because i know that if i am dead
then i am dead
and i do not ask for more
not even on extended dreams
not even on anything
perhaps they worry about me because they all worry about themselves
perhaps i am their mirror
or perhaps they think that with my behavior
i should not have lived
in the first place.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Overkill
I cant get to sleep
I think about the implications
Of diving in too deep
And possibly the complications
Especially at night
I worry over situations
I know will be alright
Perahaps its just my imagination
Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat, shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away
Alone between the sheets
Only brings exasperation
Its time to walk the streets
Smell the desperation
At least theres pretty lights
And though theres little variation
It nullifies the night
From overkill
Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat, shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away
I cant get to sleep
I think about the implications
Of diving in too deep
And possibly the complications
Especially at night
I worry over situations
I know will be alright
Its just overkill
Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat, shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away
song performed by by Men At Work
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bird Flew By
Bird flew by
And wondered, wondered why
She was white
And ought to stay up in the sky
From the air she could wonder
For the reason
Whats the point of a year
Or a season
Your life flies away
As the night turns to day
If you start once to think
Your hair will soon turn grey
But one would like to wonder
For the reason
Whats the point of a year
Or a season
The list of fallen stars
And crumbled, broken hearts
Comes from a need
To play so many parts
But one would like to wonder
For the reason
Whats the point of a year
Or a season
The wind and the rain
Shook hands again
Untouched by the world
They managed to keep sane
They were able to wonder
For the reason
Whats the point of a year
Or a season
Bird flew by
And wondered, wondered why
She was white
And ought to stay up in the sky
From the air she could wonder
For the reason
Whats the point of a year
Or a season
song performed by by Nick Drake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bronzes
I
The bronze General Grant riding a bronze horse in Linc-
oln Park
Shrivels in the sun by day when the motor cars whirr
by in long processions going somewhere to keep ap-
pointment for dinner and matineés and buying and
selling
Though in the dusk and nightfall when high waves are
piling
On the slabs of the promenade along the lake shore near
by
I have seen the general dare the combers come closer
And make to ride his bronze horse out into the hoofs
and guns of the storm.
II
I cross Lincoln Park on a winter night when the snow
is falling.
Lincoln in bronze stands among the white lines of snow,
his bronze forehead meeting soft echoes of the new-
sies crying forty thousand men are dead along the
Yser, his bronze ears listening to the mumbled roar
of the city at his bronze feet.
A lithe Indian on a bronze pony, Shakespeare seated with
long legs in bronze, Garibaldi in a bronze cape, they
hold places in the cold, lonely snow to-night on their
pedestals and so they will hold them past midnight
and into the dawn.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Hello Big Man
(carly simon/peter wood)
He started a company
When he was a young man
Handsome, and like a reed so tall
With a face like an old photograph
She would fall for him
Fall for him
She would fall
She wore her mothers cocktail dress
With saddle shoes
She was pretty and she was small
She worked the switchboard
Down the hall from him
Down the hall
Chorus:
He said: hello little woman?
She said: hello big man?
And that was how the wooing
And the winning began
He said: hello little woman?
She said: hello big man?
Of course new york in those days
Was carriage rides and matinees
He took her to a ball
At the waldorf astoria
He would fall for her
Fall for her, he would fall
Chorus
You could hear them laugh
As they danced in their room
And the shadows on the avenue
Rose into a jealous moon
Which swung low in the dawn like
To see what was going on with those two
You keep on expecting
Something to go wrong
And nothing does
They still live in the house
Where we were born
Pictures of us kids
Hanging up all over the walls
And some say he built his empire
For wealth and toil
But, if you ask him why
Hell say he did it all for her
All for her
All for her
Chorus
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What's really fun is seeing mothers bringing their daughters to the shows. And the best part is the mothers know they don't have to worry about sexual innuendo in the songs. The shows are family shows.
quote by Peter Noone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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They Know That They Don't Know
They know that they don't know!
And their opinions discloses the evidence.
Most of their knowledge has been obtained,
By innuendos and nonsense.
Leaving them exposed,
To an ignorance that shows.
They know that they don't know!
And any actions taken to comprehend...
Becomes entrapped by an inferiority,
Felt within them.
And that which escapes their understanding...
Is left out of their reach.
Although very close...
Are those answers they seek most.
But quick they fold their arms to their chests,
With stubborn hands to express...
Their choice not to hear,
What for them is best!
Declaring they wish not to listen...
Because facts distracts,
A consciousness they lack!
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it...
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it.
They know that they don't know.
But they want to gossip it...
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
They know that they don't know,
With their minds closed.
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't know...
And it shows.
They know that they don't know...
And it shows.
They know that they don't know...
And it shows.
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
They know that they don't!
Stubborn and they're limited.
They know that they don't!
Stubborn and they're limited.
They know that they don't!
Stubborn and they're limited.
Stubborn and they're limited.
And spread those rumors made to fit,
Those ears that are as limited!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I think that the opportunity to be a kid another year and not have to not worry about the responsibilities of paying bills, and worry about getting an agent and worry about getting an accountant was important.
quote by Jason Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Funky New Year
Went to a party just last night
Wanted to bring the year in right
Woke up this morning I don't know how
Last night I was a happy man, but the way I feel right now
It's gonna be a FUNKY NEW YEAR
FUNKY NEW YEAR
Ooo, Ahh, got to be a FUNKY NEW YEAR
FUNKY NEW YEAR
Can't remember when I ever felt worse
Nothing matters and everything hurts
They were passin' round the bottle, made me feel brand new
Trouble with the new man he wants a hit too, hit me
FUNKY NEW YEAR
FUNKY NEW YEAR
oooooo, it's a FUNKY NEW YEAR
FUNKY NEW YEAR
FUNKY NEW YEAR
FUNKY NEW YEAR
Lord, mmm, FUNKY NEW YEAR
Nurse I'm worse FUNKY NEW YEAR
I got to perk up a little FUNKY NEW YEAR
My hair hurts FUNKY NEW YEAR
FUNKY NEW YEAR
FUNKY NEW YEAR
FUNKY NEW YEAR
FUNKY NEW YEAR
A party baby
Never again FUNKY NEW YEAR
FUNKY NEW YEAR
Who's shoes are these FUNKY NEW YEAR
FUNKY NEW YEAR
Party hardy baby FUNKY NEW YEAR
FUNKY NEW YEAR
What year is this anyway?
song performed by by Eagles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Faithful Witness
To the firstborn of Yahseph,
Of all that is created;
To the secondborn of Yahseph,
Do set set your mind on Mount Zion;
For His name is His glory and,
Of the economic well-being.
Of the year of the rat,
Of the year of the dog,
Of the year of the cow,
Of the year of the bull,
Of the year of the sheep,
Of the year of the dragon,
Of the year of the snake,
Of the year of the pig,
Of the year of the goat,
Of the year of the lizard,
Of the year of the crocodile,
Of the year of the elephant,
Of the year of the scorpion,
Of the year of the turtle,
Of the year of the fish,
Of the year of the earth,
Of the year of the wind,
Of the year of the fire,
Of the year of the water,
And of the year of the bush!
Like the firstborns of slaves.
The hips of romance,
The faithful witness will not lie;
The same day,
The same night,
Of the love shared at where no oxen are;
And the crib was very clean.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Uncle Sam
I wonder how I got to
be who I am?
Your name means nothing to me.
For I am Uncle Sam.
They've dressed me up
in red, white and blue
and made me famous saying
'I want you.'
They took my picture
and placed it in view
so all would know me, not just a few.
I point my finger
and look real stern.
I've encouraged many teens
to enlist and yearn
to listen to my words
and show no fear.
And most of them listen
year after year.
For I've become an icon.
That's what I am.
My name shows up for every war.
You can call me 'Uncle Sam.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Children Die: Malnutrition
Think of the children that die each year, each minute, every couple of seconds, and think of how lucky you are. Please, spread the word of this poem, help me educate people about malnutrition's effect! ! !
Lying awake,
A yound child cries,
Her stomach is empty,
She'll probably die,
Could you have guessed,
That every 3.6 seconds,
A person dies,
From malnutrition and hunger,
One out of eight children,
Go to bed hungry each night,
Aged under twelve,
They soon lose the fight,
One-hundred-and-sixty million,
Children, years five and under,
Are malnurished,
And filled with hunger,
Fiften million children,
Die of hunger each year,
Their parents dead,
Or filled with tears,
Many of us worry,
About such trivial things,
Think of those children,
And what their fate is,
Please don't waste food,
And think of how lucky we are,
That we are all fed,
And not dead from malnutrition each year.
poem by Kelly Aragon
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Let Me Give You This Starting Point
the starting point, of course, for a start
is
of course, the way we usually say
we agree, i will try,
a point, of course, a very small dot,
and then you push the dot, it rolls like
a mat
or this blanket, you spread it, of course,
it runs,
the point, turns into a carpet of your room
and you like the design spread
before you
some Arabic flowers, Bedouins with scimitars
carrying a princess on his arms,
riding on his warrior horse
under the moon
and the stars
and then, of course, it used
just to be a point
for a start, turning into a blanket,
then a carpet,
and what next, you have taken
the magic of it all,
you are riding now on the carpet
and then you fly
above the vast expanse of the
black skies
above the desert
you have become
the Aladin of my mind
poem by Antonio Liao
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Salt Sprinkled Across The Bed
Salt sprinkled across the bed
Lying evenly against the spread
Drops of snow in a desert of red
What was it I said
Grind against the fallacy
As we always awake to reality
This journey bearing its mark on the weak
Heaven snowing hell while sleet
Journey of worry sprinkled with hope
Journey of pleasure which we try to stay afloat
How is the tear manifested in both sorrow and gratitude
How at our lowest point do we gain our greatest fortitude
The caterpillar in the ca coon can only spread its wings
By beating them against the ca coon flying towards its dreams
Drops of snow in a desert of red
Lying evenly against the spread
What was it I said
Salt sprinkled across the bed
poem by Dequan Nicholas
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