I live again the days and evenings of my long career. I dream at night of operas and concerts in which I have had my share of success. Now like the old Irish minstrel, I have hung up my harp because my songs are all sung.
quote by John McCormack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just A Bit Like Me
It's six o'clock in the morning
The sun was ready to rise
And as she closes his lunchbox
She spies the sun in his eyes
She stays at home with the baby
She's got a dream in her heart
Somewhere her sister is singing
A night is ready to start
One's choosin', one's cruisin'
Down the highway of their dreams
While songs are sung her dream's begun
And she thinks of what it means
To live through her voice, she made a choice
But neither one is free
Am I a lot like her or is she just a bit like me?
It's three o'clock in the morning
I got an ache in my head
I throw my clothes in the corner
Then sleep alone in my bed
Tomorrow, we'll go to Texas
I hear it's sunny back home
There ain't no use in pretending
I know that I gotta roam
One's choosin', one's cruisin'
Down the highway of their dreams
While songs are sung her dream's begun
And she thinks of what it means
To live through her voice, she made a choice
But neither one is free
Am I a lot like her or is she just a bit like me?
She puts her cans in the pantry
I read my name in the news
She spends her days sewing curtains
I feel there's no time to lose
Well it's a long way to Nashville
But then the garden is dry
If we could do it all over
Would we still be satisfied?
One's choosin', one's cruisin'
Down the highway of their dreams
While songs are sung her dream's begun
And she thinks of what it means
To live through her voice, she made a choice
But neither one is free
Am I a lot like her or is she just a bit like me
song performed by by Dixie Chicks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Minstrel Boy
The Minstrel-Boy to the war is gone,
In the ranks of death you'll find him;
His father's sword he has girded on,
And his wild harp slung behind him.
"Land of song!" said the warrior-bard,
"Though all the world betrays thee,
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,
One faithful harp shall praise thee!"
The Minstrel fell! -- but the foeman's chain
Could not bring his proud soul under;
The harp he loved ne'er spoke again,
For he tore its chords asunder;
And said, "No chains shall sully thee,
Thou soul of love and bravery!
Thy songs were made for the pure and free,
They shall never sound in slavery."
poem by Thomas Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What is Success?
Success is not merely becoming wealthy.
Success is not only working for remaining healthy.
Success is not going after fame and name.
Success is not living life for such mind game.
Success is not just taking career to the top.
Success is not staying in a bungalow at the hill top.
Success is working hard for your dreams you believe.
Success is perseverance and efforts till you achieve your deal.
Success is having consideration for everyone.
Success is a strong desire and to live to help each one.
Success is to follow the religion of humanity.
Success is to always remember all pervading divinity.
Success is to follow the principle, “Live and let others live.”
Success is to accept others as diversity of nature; beautiful and alive.
Success is working for happiness of the world, a dedication.
Success is to love everyone unconditionally without any expectation.
poem by Dr.nutan Pol
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Succes My World
When I think success
I see it comes
When i dream success
I see it comes
When i touch success
It fates away
Success success
My hope
I'll find success
Embrace success
When i hold success
I'll keep it save
When I have success
I'll share it
Success success
My world
I'll rule
Yes, I'll influence
Thought, Oh thought
My Success Success
I'll keep,
I see
Success a life
Success my hope
Success my world
poem by Shubham Kumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Succes My World
When I think success
I see it comes
When i dream success
I see it comes
When i touch success
It fates away
Success success
My hope
I'll find success
Embrace success
When i hold success
I'll keep it save
When I have success
I'll share it
Success success
My world
I'll rule
Yes, I'll influence
Thought, Oh thought
My Success Success
I'll keep,
I see
Success a life
Success my hope
Success my world
poem by Fiefa Bruce
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Days
Miserable grey, damp wet Days
Days shorter and winters Long
Long bleak dark Evenings
Evenings as black as pitch.
Bright frosty cold Mornings
Mornings glistening in the Sun
Sun shines cold as the Day
Day soon will become night.
Snow crisp and White
White flurries fall from the Sky
Sky as white as the Day
Day fades into a crisp evening.
Days engulfed with Floods
Floods devastating your Home
Home unfit to live In
In shelter we seek comfort.
poem by Hazel Connelly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lament For Leaf Loss
Sing sad songs for the days that are gone
Now the days are growing darker and the night lasts long
But listen for the flutter of each shrivelled tear
As it drops in golden leaf-fall of the fading, dying year.
Sing sad songs for the days that are gone
Now the light is growing dimmer and the night lasts long
But listen for the echoes of the summer’s breeze
As it gossips with the branches of the leafless poplar trees.
Sing sad songs for the days that are gone
Now the frost is growing grimmer and the night lasts long
But listen for the rustle of lost autumn leaves
And the crying of the dewdrops as the barren forest grieves.
Sing sad songs for the days that are gone
Now the mood is growing glummer and the night lasts long
But listen for the whispers of the coming spring
When the buds begin their bursting and the birds begin to sing.
Sing no more for the days that are gone
For the light will soon be stronger and the night less long
And listen to the rhythm of season’s song
As spring will soon be with us while the winter won’t be long.
poem by C. Richard Miles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet IX: Passion And Worship
One flame-winged brought a white-winged harp-player
Even where my lady and I lay all alone;
Saying: “Behold, this minstrel is unknown;
Bid him depart, for I am minstrel here:
Only my strains are to Love's dear ones dear.”
Then said I: “Through thine hautboy's rapturous tone
Unto my lady still this harp makes moan,
And still she deems the cadence deep and clear.”
Then said my lady: “Thou art Passion of Love,
And this Love's Worship: both he plights to me.
Thy mastering music walks the sunlit sea:
But where wan water trembles in the grove
And the wan moon is all the light thereof,
This harp still makes my name its voluntary.”
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Hung Up And Overdue
I'm so hung up I'm gonna go see her tonight
I'm so hung up I can't get her out of my mind
Could it be just stars in my eyes
Could it be this won't happen twice
We're overdue for a dream come true
Long time, nothing new
We're overdue for a dream come true
She said she's going to move to California on day
Said she's going out on safari to stay
She's tired of her job and the snow
We both need somewhere to go
We're overdue for a dream come true
Long time, nothing new
We're overdue for a dream come true
I'm so hung up on her now
I'm so strung out on her now
A gift from the sun to the moon
I hope something changes soon
We're overdue for a dream come true
Long time, nothing new
We're overdue for a dream come true
We're overdue for a dream come true
Long time, nothing new
We're overdue for a dream come true
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hung Up & Overdue
Im so hung up Im gonna go see her tonight
Im so hung up I cant get her out of my mind
Could it be just stars in my eyes
Could it be this wont happen twice
Were overdue for a dream come true
Long time, nothing new
Were overdue for a dream come true
She said shes going to move to california on day
Said shes going out on safari to stay
Shes tired of her job and the snow
We both need somewhere to go
Were overdue for a dream come true
Long time, nothing new
Were overdue for a dream come true
Im so hung up on her now
Im so strung out on her now
A gift from the sun to the moon
I hope something changes soon
Were overdue for a dream come true
Long time, nothing new
Were overdue for a dream come true
Were overdue for a dream come true
Long time, nothing new
Were overdue for a dream come true
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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08. Hold on to Your Dream
hold on to your dream
it sweetens all your nights
brightens up your days
because dream is a compass
that shows only one aspired direction -
success, success and more success
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Harp Of The Minstrel
The harp of the minstrel has never a tone
As sad as the song in his bosom to-night,
For the magical touch of his fingers alone
Can not waken the echoes that breathe it aright;
But oh! as the smile of the moon may impart
A sorrow to one in an alien clime,
Let the light of the melody fall on the heart,
And cadence his grief into musical rhyme.
The faces have faded, the eyes have grown dim
That once were his passionate love and his pride;
And alas! all the smiles that once blossomed for him
Have fallen away as the flowers have died.
The hands that entwined him the laureate's wreath
And crowned him with fame in the long, long ago,
Like the laurels are withered and folded beneath
The grass and the stubble--the frost and the snow.
Then sigh, if thou wilt, as the whispering strings
Strive ever in vain for the utterance clear,
And think of the sorrowful spirit that sings,
And jewel the song with the gem of a tear.
For the harp of the minstrel has never a tone
As sad as the song in his bosom tonight,
And the magical touch of his fingers alone
Can not waken the echoes that breathe it aright.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Talking about the all night concerts, I did some of the first all night concerts back in the 60's with this little harmonium, and I also had saxophone taped delays.
quote by Terry Riley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gone Are Those Sad Songs Sung
Gone are those sad songs,
Sung begun some sang.
With the singing of those sad songs,
Gone
Once sung 'then' now no one sings,
With a wish to begin them again.
Too many on the streets.
Now too accustomed to fresh beats,
Declare they will not be defeated.
By a repeating of old tunes.
Too many collectively.
Have decided to leave.
Gone are those sad songs,
Sung begun some sang.
With the singing of those sad songs,
Gone.
Once sung now no one chooses to sing,
With a wish to begin them again.
Solos and duets seem for many more accepted.
With a clouding once done to dim overcasting skies.
Clearing now as a harmony begins,
To find eyes brightening.
With a listening to voices heard.
And giving each one specific attention.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sigerson Clifford Sung Of
Sigerson Clifford sung of the The Boys of Barr Na Sraide the happy boys who hunted for the Wran
The boys who grew up to be freedom fighters Who took on the British troops The Black and Tan
He glorified them in his famous ballad the brave young rebels of his Kerry Town
The boys of Caherciveen and Barr Na Sraide to fight for Ireland their claim to renown
Sigerson Clifford sung of his gentle teacher the likeable and pleasant Brother Mick
The one who introduced Humanity to his classroom who banished the strap that pained and burnt the stick
A better and by far a more successful teacher than those who took delight in the usage of the cane
He was so different to his other teachers that he and his school mates wondered was he sane
Sigerson Clifford sung about the Irish Travellers of them some famous ballads he did write
He was the uncrowned Poet Laureate of Kerry other his songs sing and his poems do recite
His songs and poems are full of joy and pathos the one who was born with the gift of rhyme
In death he remains as a poetic legend and he was a legend in his own lifetime
Sigerson Clifford sung of the Boys of Barr Na Sraide and in Irish literature the renowned Kerry poet
Lives in his poems and songs as one remembered he was indeed a literary man of note.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I'm ambitious, but I don't necessarily equate success with being a huge Hollywood star. The dream is to have both a long career and a normal life.
quote by Lena Headey
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Perfect Strain
O BID the minstrel tune his harp,
And bid the minstrel sing;
And let it be a perfect strain
That round the hall shall ring:
A strain to throb in lady's heart,
To brim the warrior's soul,
As dew fills up the summer rose
And wine the lordly bowl!
O let the minstrel's voice ring clear,
His touch sweep gay and light;
Nor let his glittering tresses know
One streak of wintry white.
And let the light of ruddy June
Shine in his joyous eyes,
If he would wake the only strain
That never fully dies!
O what the strain that woos the knight
To turn from steed and lance,
The page to turn from hound and hawk,
The maid from lute and dance;
The potent strain, that nigh would draw
The hermit from his cave,
The dryad from the leafy oak,
The mermaid from the wave;
That almost might still charm the hawk
To drop the trembling dove?
O ruddy minstrel, tune thy harp,
And sing of Youthful Love!
poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After Love Is Gone!
Quiet mornings without love,
too many evenings without tenderness,
too many days without a kiss,
no one to share success with.
Love songs just refresh the pain,
memory clouds will bring the rain,
at times like these,
I wish the breeze,
would shine the sun again.
No love to ease a failure,
as if no where to go,
no one to give the sympathy,
that a heart must have to grow.
A future without dreams,
no more goals to meet tomorrow,
only thoughts of times gone by,
and thoughts of recent sorrow.
' Farewell and please be careful ',
is what she said to me,
I bid farewell and closed that door,
... not wanting to be free,
... not wanting to believe.
Here I stand ; free anyhow,
there isn't much for me to do,
except to go ahead with life,
and wait for something new.
poem by Barry Van Allen
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Silence is in Our Festal Halls
Silence is in our festal halls --
Sweet son of song! thy course is o'er;
In vain on thee sad Erin calls,
Her minstrel's voice responds no more; --
All silent as the Eolian shell
Sleeps at the close of some bright day,
When the sweet breeze, that waked its swell
At sunny morn, hath died away.
Yet, at our feasts, thy spirit long,
Awaked by music's spell, shall rise;
For, name so link'd with deathless song
Partakes its charm and never dies;
And even within the holy fane,
When music wafts the soul to heaven,
One thought to him, whose earliest strain
Was echoed there, shall long be given.
But where is now the cheerful day,
The social night, when by thy side,
He who now weaves this parting lay
His skilless voice with thine allied;
And sung those songs whose every tone,
When bard and minstrel long have past,
Shall still, in sweetness all their own,
Embalm'd by fame, undying last.
Yes, Erin, shine alone the fame --
Or, if thy bard have shared the crown,
From thee the borrow'd glory came,
And at thy feet is now laid down.
Enough, if Freedom still inspire,
His latest song, and still there be,
As evening closes round his lyre,
One ray upon its chords from thee.
poem by Thomas Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Have A Dream
O my God,
Give me a wonderful dream,
Hope for a successful dream
Give me the best dream.
I have a dream
Now,
Tonight,
Tomorrow,
A dream within a dream,
Dream of guardian angel,
Dream of seeing myself,
Being success and happy.
I have a dream
Dream of heaven
Dream of success
Dream of happiness
I have a dream,
A Dream to become
What I want to become,
Dream of my coming
I have a dream,
Dream to freedom
Dream of enlightenment
Dreaming endlessly.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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