The studio rented a house for my wife in Los Angeles under a phony name to keep reporters away. Whenever I wanted to visit her and my children, I would have to sneak in the back door after dark.
quote by Max von Sydow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The house in Panorama Street
I once had a stretch of red rocky ground
on the street side
of a rented house
in Panorama street in Rooihuiskraal.
The cars criss-crossed past
and the bank took it back
and rented it out
and nobody else
wanted to make that house
his own.
I decided to let flowers,
sprout out
of that rocky earth.
There were small carnations
that grew creeping over each other
with the most wonderful smell
and opened
in colours of white, red and purple blue.
There were geraniums
that easily grew out of cuttings
and become big strong bushes
that was covered with flowers.
Vygies crept all over the place
and just where you look
the rocky soil stood in flower
and I wanted to stop the bank
when I got two months notice
and other people
bought that house
with my beautiful garden.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That's The Sum Of It
I don't know which to mourn. Both have died on me, my wife and
my car. I feel strongly about my car, but I am also affected by my,
wife. Without my car, I can't leave the house to keep myself from
being alone. My wife gave me two children, both of whom, of course,
no longer live with us, as was to be expected, as we in our youth left
our parents behind. With my car, I could visit my children, when they
are not too busy.
Before she died, my wife urged me to find another woman. It's advice
I'd like to take up but not without a car. Without a car. I cannot find
myself another woman. That's the sum of it.
poem by David Ignatow
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Los Angeles
City of glam, city of crime
People are fake, you're no friend of mine
Club fights, dancing through the night
We're kids living the dream under the lights
We're in Los Angeles
Dancing through the night in Los Angeles
Hollywood trash in Los Angeles
Being ourselves in Los Angeles
Never losing Los Angeles
City of High, city of low
Selling drugs, we're losing our souls
Walking the strip with one goal
We're gonna live our dream, no one can stop us all
We're in Los Angeles
Dancing through the night in Los Angeles
Hollywood trash in Los Angeles
Being ourselves in Los Angeles
Never losing Los Angeles
Girls in my world
Music in my ears
Pain in my tears
Rock in my veins
Nothing in my brain
I think i'm going insane
That's all i need in Los Angeles
We're in Los Angeles
Dancing through the night in Los Angeles
Hollywood trash in Los Angeles
Being ourselves in Los Angeles
Never losing Los Angeles
We're in Los Angeles
Dancing through the night in Los Angeles
Hollywood trash in Los Angeles
Being ourselves in Los Angeles
Never losing Los Angeles
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Single In A State Of Mind
You've got your nights,
Doubled up with meetings.
And you say your days,
Are booked from dawn 'til noon.
But what about me and my time?
You've got me in a single state of mind.
And that's not right...
For the need I have for you.
You turn off lights,
When your neighbor comes to visit.
My jaws are tight!
But there's nothing I can do.
You've got your nights,
Doubled up with meetings.
And you say your days,
Are booked from dawn 'til noon.
You think I will hesitate in waiting?
To offer someone else a dried up prune!
You turn off lights,
When your neighbor comes to visit.
My jaws are tight!
But there's nothing I can do.
Except...
Bam on your door,
Until the lights turn on.
As I watch that creeper sneak,
Back across the street.
Bam on your door,
Until the lights turn on.
As I watch that creeper sneak,
Back across the street.
'Uh...hi.
You busy?
If it's not too late,
Would you like some company? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Persecution Complex
What to do when ghosts appear at noon? Coming up the lane
to my retreat, where I have been hiding for twenty years, from
wife her eight children, five horses and a pack of howling dogs.
They are coming to take me away. Camp outside my cottage
knock on windows looking in calling my name want to come in.
How long can I hide behind the sofa the floor is stone hard?
It is dark now but they have flashlights shine into windows to
see sign of life, I have to try sneak into the kitchen they can’t
see me there, open a tin of sardines and drink cold water.
This is going to turn into a long siege. It’s three in the morning
they sleep in their tents, I sneak out take my scooter, and as
it is downhill all the way to the main road, they can’t hear me.
They can take my house, locus eat my land and sell my tractor.
I drive into summer dawn, free of domestic enslavement.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Johnny was great in the studio; he was there to make the music that he wanted to make. We lived right beside each other and had a rehearsal studio that was just ours, with nobody else using it, it was part of Johnny's house, so we could rehearse every day.
quote by Rick Derringer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Exaltation On A Cool Kitchen Floor
I wanted to come visit
you waiting in the springtime
When the leaves change
I wanted to come visit
You waiting in the springtime
When the leaves change
The ground outside is begging
For that newness that surrounds us
As we dance back through the screen door
In the sunlight of mid-April
But the glow won't stop the smiles
That are spreading on our faces
As we fall down on the kitchen floor
And she's laughing
about something
that she had heard earlier
And I can't help noticing that she
Is sitting closer to me
Than she ever has before
song performed by by Bright Eyes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Los Angeles
I met a man
He was a good man
Sailing and shoring
Dancing the beta can-can
Making me foreign
Oh yeah
I want to live in los angeles
Not the one in los angeles
No, not the one in south california
The got one in south patagonia
I want to live in los angeles
Not the one in los angeles
They got a bunch down in moleville
They got a bunch more still
I want to live in los angeles
Not the one is los angeles
They got one in twenty-five two five
Works just like a beehive
I want to live in los angeles
Not the one in los angeles
Counting helicopters on a saturday night
The symphony of the fair light
I hear them saying los angeles
In all the black and white movies
And if you think they star-spangled us
How come we say los angeleez?
Ill wait in los angeles
Ill wait in the pouring sun
No way
For not anyone
No way
I met a man
He was a good man
Sailing and shoring
He got a betatron, man
Talking that foreign
Oh yeah
Ill wait in los angeles
Ill wait in the pouring sun
No way
For not anyone
No way
song performed by by Frank Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ichabod - The Story of Discontent (Narrative)
This story's for the humble
And I'll hide identities
For it may make you stumble
To know the realities.
It's about a nice preacher
Of a known denomination
Who aspired to be richer
Through his good congregation.
In a rented house he lived
With his lovely wife and children
But he wanted to receive
A better blessing from men.
So without much ado
He relayed in his preaching
A new house will do
So increase with your giving.
He said 'We'll build a Center
That will then accommodate
Five thousand new members,
And this church will be great.
But before that you must
Build a nice house for me
I hope you will trust
It's for our testimony.'
So poured the donations
And the gift offerings
For his house construction
With complete furnishings.
After the house, he needed
A new car for his trips,
So in preaching he related
Added needs in the worship.
'A Crosswind is fine'
Said he to the people,
'It's an Isuzu line
And the price reasonable.'
So he got the new wheels
And with peace for a moment,
But the joy that he feels
Soon leads back to discontent.
After a year, a predicament-
Another car he had wanted
Made known his sentiment,
Again the people submitted.
'A Mitsubishi Pajero,
It's the best for our missions
Will you let me know
Your complete contributions.'
When the giving was done
And the money was counted,
'For those who gave none
No prayers will be said.'
What kind of a shepherd
Will say such a prayer?
From heaven God heard
This very selfish preacher.
After that his own son
Brought sin to the church,
A curse that's undone
Took him down from his perch.
Though he preached with full volume
It was empty of Power
For the God Who consumes
Has abandoned the preacher.
Now seven years later
There is still no Center,
Eventually the Rapture
May not carry this preacher.
'Ichabod' - The glory of the Lord has
departed.
'We too often love things and use people, when we should be using things and loving people.'
..................................... .................................................
April 10,2009
Philippines
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With a Skit To Scoot I Had To Scat
With a skit to scoot I had to scat.
Don't want to be bothered,
To stay where I'm not wanted at.
Even my days sleeping on the door mat,
Is a life threatening challenge...
If I should try to sneak back.
And for a cat replaced by a dog...
Why am I attracted,
To attempt getting into the sack with that?
When there are other cats,
Willing to teach me to use my eyes...
To get picked up!
A purring with a soft 'meow' these days,
Just does not work!
And I remember when being a Tabby,
Was the rage.
Today?
People will settle for a mongrel.
House broken or not.
And I am a full fledged 'intelligent' Tabby.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The House With Many Doors
the house i love is a house
with many doors
the usual house you have
a front door and the back door
when one enters and there is nothing
to hide, one simply takes the back door
and be gone to the woods,
i can be imaginative at times
one door must open to the earth
another door must open to
the sky
and now, i must find a way
how to grow wings
or if destiny is too cruel
i must grow sharper claws
for digging the rocks of this
earth
now you must know that i have
many choices
up or
down.....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Its My House
(nickolas ashford/valerie simpson)
Its my house and I live here
(I wanna tell you)
Its my house and I live here
Theres a welcome mat at the door
And if you come on in
Youre gonna get much more
Theres my chair
I put it there
Everything you see
Is with love and care
Its my house and I live here
(I wanna tell you)
Its my house and I live here
On the table, there sits a rose
Through every window
A little light flows
Books of feeling on the shelf above
cause it was built for love
I was built for love
Its my house and I live here
(I wanna tell you)
Its my house and I live here
Theres a candle to light the stairs
Where my dreams await someone to share
Oh, theres music on the radio
And good vibrations wont let me go
I put my name on the ceilin above
cause it was buillt for love
It was built for love, ooh
You say you wanna move in with me
You say you wanna move in with me
Got to follow the rules to get me
Got to follow the rules to get me
You wanna visit my house
Say you wanna drop by
Wanna visit my house, yeah
To see me sometimes
Theres a welcome mat at the door
And if you come on in
Youre gonna get much more
I put my name in the ceilin above
cause it was built for love
It was built for love
Its my house and I live here
(I wanna tell you)
Its my house and I live here
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself... You may house their bodies but not their souls, for their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
quote by Kahlil Gibran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sneak a Little Lick
Don't...just...
Fuzzy up and cuddle on a peach.
Or sneak up peeping,
When you should be eating!
Every single piece of it!
You can...
Leap up and down behind the scenes.
Screaming about your future,
And...
Destiny!
But don't...
Sneak a little lick,
Then leave.
Don't you,
Sneak a little lick,
Then leave!
Don't,
Sneak a little lick.
Sneak a little lick.
Sneak a little lick,
Then leave!
Leap up and down behind the scenes.
Screaming about your future,
And destiny!
If that's your wish...
To pick it up to ditch!
But,
Don't you...
Sneak a little lick,
Then leave.
Don't you,
Sneak a little lick,
Then leave!
Don't,
Sneak a little lick.
Sneak a little lick.
Sneak a little lick,
Then leave!
Don't...just...
Fuzzy up and cuddle on a peach.
Or sneak up peeping,
When you should be eating!
Don't you...
Sneak a little lick,
Then leave.
Don't you...
Sneak a little lick,
Then leave!
Don't,
Sneak a little lick.
Sneak a little lick.
Sneak a little lick,
Then leave!
Leap up and down,
If that's your wish.
But that peach found,
Might be your gift.
So pick it up and eat it!
Don't you...
Sneak a little lick,
Then leave.
Don't you...
Sneak a little lick,
Then leave!
Don't,
Sneak a little lick.
Sneak a little lick.
Sneak a little lick,
Then leave!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Seans In The Sky
-daddy, when did we have no house?
-when?
-when, when did we have no house and we rented this house?
-in 1973, we didnt have this house, yet, thats when we bought this house
-oh!
-two years before you were born
-oh, and I just wasnt coming with you? to find this house?
-no, well you werent born yet. you were still in the sky.
-oh, and when I came back, was down here, what did I went in?
-a little, a little cardboard box. with a little blanket in, little teeny tiny
Teeny tiny little boy in a little tiny cardboard box. they used to have apples in it, hmm
You used to do this here.
-a apple box!
-well, a little cardboard box, you see. like they bring groceries in. and it was you instead of the groceries.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I mean, I had probably an illusion of being the wife that, you know, I wanted to create a home. I wanted to have children. I wanted him to be a husband. It was never going to be that way. It couldn't be that way.
quote by Priscilla Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Odd Love Story
Fall came early that year, the north westerly blew there was sadness
in the air, I just knew something was not right. It was on a day like this
my wife said she wanted a divorce, and she had already worked out
the details of the settlement, I could keep our log cabin. She knew me
so well it was the only thing I wanted. My wife is keen athlete she
likes to run and go skiing, it was only natural that she married the man
who runs a sports shop. My exercise is to get up from my typewriter
walk into to the kitchen to make another cup of coffee.
A rare beautiful winter day, blue sky and pale sun, there was a knock
on my door, I opened saw her green Volvo disappearing down the lane;
by the door a bag of cooked food and jam. And twice a week she does
this, but now I wait till her car has disappeared. “Love and cherish...”
she is a good catholic, takes her promises seriously. In summers, she
runs past my house, looks straight ahead and I pretend not to see her,
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Meanwhile, Cynthia and I are busy fixing up a real old house that we just bought in Hollywood. With two children now, we just couldn't live in our small rented home any longer.
quote by Kent McCord
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As It Was
Ginny loved it
when the time came
For their annual trip
to the seaside
And her father rented
the house with the big garden
that lead onto the sea.
She and her brothers and sister
Looked forward to it
every year and it seemed the sun
shone almost constantly
And the house seemed
as it was the year before
nothing changed nothing new
just the same rooms
and outlook and young Lily the maid
who came each year too
to help their mother
around the house
and watch
the younger children.
Her mother
Was the organiser
the one who seemed most near
to the children who seemed
to know the children’s needs
and wants and tried to keep
her husband happy
and allow him
his space and quiet
which he valued most of all.
Ginny liked it
when the sea was out
and there was plenty of sand
to play on to make a sand castle
with a moat and drawbridge
made from small pieces of driftwood
found on the beach.
But once her mother died
the seaside house
seemed less welcoming
the sea seemed
hardly ever to go out
than it was back again
the sun was less warm
less friendly
and her father
would mope
around the house
moaning and groaning
In his grief and bellowing
at Lily the maid
to do this and do that
making her cry
and only at night
when all were asleep
and Ginny was snuggled
Down in bed did it seem
as it was when her mother
would enter the room
and sit on the bed
and smile and whisper
the words she used to
placing a ghostly hand
on Ginny’s brow
and kiss her cheek.
Ginny remembered the house
By the sea years later
with the yellowy sand
And walking with Lily
the maid
hand in hand.
poem by Terry Collett
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Stranger In My Own House
(a capella: she said: boy, your luck is running out...she make me feel like a stranger...in my own house)
I come stumbling in at a quarter to three
To the sound of my own dog growlin at me
Im scared to move or turn on a light
Youve got me creepin around in the dark
Like a thief in the night
Ive got no excuse, I should have known
Ive got no place to live
I never feel at home
I walk into the kitchen to see whats there
Im tired and Im hungry but the cupboards bare
Ive been working all day and all night too
I cant believe this is all I have to come back to
I guess Ill take a look upstairs, in the danger zone
I wonder what Im doing here
When I never feel at home
Im a stranger in my own house
Ive got the keys to the door
But Im still locked out
Im a stranger in my own house
Ill huff and Ill puff and Ill blow this house down
Cant be a stranger in my own house
I see the do not disturb sign on my bedroom door
What is this sheet and pillow laying on the floor
I wore out my welcome
I hear you loud and clear
Its time to get a few things straight around here
Ive got no excuse, I should have known
Ive got a place to live but I never feel at home
Im just a stranger in my own house
Ive got the keys to the door
But Im still locked out
Stranger in my own house
Ill huff and Ill puff and Ill blow this house down
Cant be a stranger in my own house
Ive got no excuse, I should have known
With a woman like you Im better off alone
Im a stranger in my own house
Ive got the keys to the door
But Im still locked out
Im just a stranger in my own house
Oh, honey Im home
Im just a stranger in my own house
Im just a stranger in my own house
You got a lion on your hands girl, not a mouse!
Im just a stranger in my own house
Im just a stranger in my own house
Well, somebodys got to go...
Stranger
Stranger
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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