There'll be moments when I'm out in the prison yard, chatting with the cast and the crew, getting ready to shoot a scene. And then I'll remember if I were actually an inmate, I'd only be out there an hour. The other 23 hours of the day, I'd be in my cell. It's kind of a downer.
quote by Wentworth Miller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Early Works - Remember The Moments
Remember the moments
of long, long ago
when we were young
and troubles were few.
Laughing in the rain
with summer showers
bathing in the sun
for hours and hours.
Remember the moments
the highlights of life
of stealing kisses
in the back seats of cars
and the walks at sunset
along a sandy shore
where have they gong
the days of laughter and song.
Capture the moments
as they come to call
capture the beauty
our eyes seeith all.
Remember the times
golden in the grey
remember our love
day after day.
7 July 1981
poem by David Harris
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Half the time I feel like I'm appealing to the downer freaks out there. We start to play one downer record after another until I begin to get down myself. Give me something from 1960 or something; let me get up again. The music of today is for downer freaks, and I'm an upper.
quote by Wolfman Jack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Remember Me
When the sinking sunbeams lie
On the forest branches high;
When the twilight hour steals on,
With its hush and soothing tone,
And the care that day hath wrought
Passes from the soften'd thought,
Remember me.
When, like smiles from those we love,
Falls the moonlight from above;
When with evening's earliest star,
Wakes the thought of those afar,
And around thy bosom's cell,
Memory flings her holiest spell,
Remember me.
When the poet's high-wrought words—
When the song of woodland birds—
When the gush of shaded streams
Mingles with thy spirit's dreams,
And whate'er o'er thought may cast
Pensive hues of moments past,
Remember me.
poem by Elizabeth Margaret Chandler from Poetical Works (1836)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Is All About You
1 hour unity,
2 hours peace,
3 hours playing,
4 hours sleeping,
5 hours smiling,
6 hours living,
7 hours trusting in your muse!
For this river is mine and yours foeevers;
And, i want to be close to you always.
1 hour smiling,
2 hours learning,
3 hours thinking,
4 hours with your muse,
5 hours teaching,
6 hours working,
But, the 7th hour comes for me to sleep with you;
Because, this love is all about you! !
And, i want to be with you always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Feels like we're over. But you should tell me again.
Remeber when we laughed
and let all our problems die
I remember those times
where I could call
sadder then sad
and lower then low
and you would make me smile all the same
I remember the nights
where it was constant vibrations
of cellular phones
and I remember the hours I spent
looking through texts
just to remember what you said hours before
I remember those times
and I reminse in those moments
but I feel like we're over
but I could be wrong
so you should tell me again
poem by Kathlyn Grace
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A Tumbler Of Claret
I poured out a tumbler of Claret,
Of course with intention to drink,
And, holding it up in the sunlight,
I paused for a moment to think.
I really can't tell you what made me;
I never had done so before,
Though for years, every day at my dinner,
I had emptied one tumbler or more.
'A friend' in the loneliest hours,
'A companion,' I called the red wine,
And sometimes I poetized slightly,
And called it a 'nectar divine.'
But to-day as I gazed at the claret,
That sparkled and glowed in the sun,
I asked it, 'What have you done for me,
That any true friend would have done?
'You have given me some pleasant feelings,
But they always were followed by pain.
You have given me ten thousand headaches,
And are ready to do it again.
You have set my blood leaping and bounding,
Which, though pleasant, was hurtful, no doubt,
And, if I keep up the acquaintance,
I am sure you will give me the gout.
'I remember a certain occasion,
When you caused me to act like a fool.
And, yes, I remember another
When you made me fall into a pool.
And there was Tom Smithers-you killed him!
Will Howard you made a poor knave.
Both my friends! and I might count a
dozen
You have sent to the prison or grave.
'Is this like a loyal friend's treatment?
And are you deserving the name?
Say! what do you give those who love you
But poverty, sorrow, and shame?
A few paltry moments of pleasure,
And ages of trouble and grief.
No wonder you blush in the sunlight,
You robber, you liar, you thief!
'I will have nothing more to do with you,
From this moment, this hour, this day.
To send you adrift, bag and baggage,
I know is the only safe way.'
And I poured out that tumbler of claret,
Poured it
out
, and not
down
, on the spot.
And all this you see was accomplished,
By a few sober moments of thought.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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In hour of darkness, I remember you
In hour of darkness,
I remember you
And the darkness of my life quickly flutters away
In hour of happiness,
I remember you
And the happiness comes much more
In hour of difficulty,
I remember you
And my faith goes stronger
In hour of death,
I remember you
And I breathe my last with a smile
In hour of losing courage
I remember you
And I become more confident
In hour of failure,
I remember you
And my failure turns into success due to you
In hour of seeking you
I don’t remember you
Because you are in me and I am in you
poem by Pushkar Bisht
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Remember
I remember moments of happiness
Coming home, goo goo eyed
After talking to a boy I liked
I remember moments of sadness
Coming home, teary eyed
After leaving my heart as a memento
To that boy I really liked
I remember moments of peace
After winning one of life's battles
Having a conscience the weight of air
I remember moments of bliss
After walking the quarter of a lifemile
Finding a true friend
I remember moments of grief
After finding that dear friend
Would never have breakfast again
I remember moments of laughter
After the past had past
And the rearview revealed frustration's
humor
I remember moments of tears nectar
When I found my dreams dead
After the doctor helped me number my
days
I remember moments of pain
When all I ever needed was lacked
And all I ever lacked was needed
I remember moments of gain
After all I ever wanted was mine
And all I ever wanted to be was I
I remember moments of love
When a hug made my heart skip
And a smile made my life smile
I remember moments of hurt
When pain blurred love's beauty
And that hug made my heart shrug
I remember moments like this
When I remember all I remember
And remember that life is but a moment.
poem by Jenim Dibie
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I’ve Walked the Blade
All my life I’ve walked the blade,
in the sun and in the shade.
The cutting edge is all that separates
the right and wrong that law dictates.
So without doubt I’ve gambled the cut
and up to now pushed my luck.
But now my shady days are done
along with iffy deals and fun.
I’m going down to spend some time
and like J. C. I’ll walk the line.
An exercise yard and a prison cell,
and tough-nut-gays who give you hell.
Prison screws that close their eyes
when things go down unauthorised.
Wardens who have wool stuffed ears
have no time for sob stories or tears.
In the past I’ve had no fear of beast or man,
I’ve chosen my company the best I can,
but here in prison where the nutters roam,
it’s hard to survive in what they call home.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Rubber Handcuffs and the Life-Prison called Freedom
Among the Felons
A pen-pusher for his bitter literature
Punished in a plastic cell.
A kind sentry probably a Homosexual
Purposely left the brass key in door front.
And the writer opens the cage door
Sees the bluish river up after a long time,
Stretches his feeble tattered wings
And tries to fly in the Melodramatic sky
It's Impossible!
Then only he realizes the next door cell inmate
A Pawnbroker notorious criminal
Who's plucked his all golden feathers!
* A humble dedication to my poet friend robyn selters!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Four hours of makeup, and then an hour to take it off. It's tiring. I go in, I get picked up at two-thirty in the morning, I get there at three. I wait four hours, go through it, ready to work at seven, work all day long for twelve hours, and get it taken off for an hours, go home and go to sleep, and do the same thing again.
quote by Peter Sarsgaard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shoot To Thrill
All you women who want a man of the street
But you dont know which way you wanna turn
Just keep a coming and put your hand out to me
cause Im the one whos gonna make you burn
Im gonna take you down - down, down, down
So dont you fool around
Im gonna pull it, pull it, pull the trigger
Shoot to thrill, play to kill
Too many women with too many pills
Shoot to thrill, play to kill
I got my gun at the ready, gonna fire at will
Yeah
Im like evil, I get under your skin
Just like a bomb thats ready to blow
cause Im illegal, I got everything
That all you women might need to know
Im gonna take you down - yeah, down, down, down
So dont you fool around
Im gonna pull it, pull it, pull the trigger
Shoot to thrill, play to kill
Too many women with too many pills
Shoot to thrill, play to kill
I got my gun at the ready, gonna fire at will
cause I shoot to thrill, and Im ready to kill
I cant get enough, I cant get the thrill
I shoot to thrill, play to kill
Yeah, pull the trigger
Pull it, pull it, pull it, pull the trigger
Oh
Shoot to thrill, play to kill
Too many women, with too many pills
I said, shoot to thrill, play to kill
I got my gun at the ready, gonna fire at will
cause I shoot to thrill, and Im ready to kill
And I cant get enough, and I cant get my thrill
cause I shoot to thrill, play it again
Yeah
Shoot you down
Yeah
Im gonna get you to the bottom and shoot you
Im gonna shoot you
Oh hoo yeah yeah yeah
Im gonna shoot you down yeah yeah
Im gonna get you down
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
Shoot you, shoot you, shoot you, shoot you down
Shoot you, shoot you, shoot you down
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, ooooooh
Im gonna shoot to thrill
Play to kill
Shoot to thrill
Yeah, ooh yeah
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When You're Ready
This verse isn’t about sex or love,
no, no you know it’s sweet and good,
tell me what keeps you up at night,
tell me why you’re so full of fright,
don’t say it’s the surrounding neighbourhood,
what makes you think you’re misunderstood?
Did someone hurt you?
If so, what did they do?
Are you ill or have some form of injury?
Is this what makes you lash out in fury?
Maybe you’re trapped in a nightmare,
and it’s all to much for you to bear,
there is no need to lock yourself in a prison cell,
just remember I’m here, if you need someone to tell,
I can take it, for we’re going steady,
so please confide in me when you’re ready…
Did they say you’re bland and uninteresting?
Then let me tell you that they’re only jesting,
please don’t fall in to your pit again,
let me help you unburden the pain,
you don’t have to cut us all out,
just tell me what this is all about.
I am not your family, spouse or heir,
but you know deep down that I care.
Have you wasted your entire fortune?
Is that what makes you stare at the moon?
There is no need to keep it to yourself,
contained within your world of stealth,
don’t tell the whole world to go to hell,
for I’m here when you think you can tell,
I can’t help you until you tell me,
so here I am; when you’re ready…
poem by Dale Mullock
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Rays Of Hope
RAYS OF HOPE
Hole of the cell brings the hope of rays,
These rays are sun-rays
Which dance in the cell of prison from morning to evening?
In morning when sun-rays touch my forehead
They recall the blessings of my mother and father.
In evening when sun-rays lit up the wall of the cell
They tell me that miseries are not universal,
They end as night ends in the morning.
Sun-rays also memorizes the morning of my village and sun set on the hill near the village.
These rays also vitalize me and create patient in me so I can bear the difficulties of the prison.
Now I am hopeful that in near future I will come out from the prison and meet my beloved people.
Because they are waiting for me as I am waiting for the sun-rays of the morning.
(From the diary of a prisoner)
poem by Vijay Gupta
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“Remember”
Remember where you came from.
Remember where you have been.
Remember whom you have encountered.
Remember whom you have known,
Remember joyous moments.
Remember sorrow too.
Remember all the lessons.
Remember the lessons you forgot.
Remember your Father.
Remember your Mentor.
Remember Mother Earth.
Remember the universe.
Remember to remember.
Remember gratitude.
Remember to be humble.
Remember your heart.
Remember always to love.
(Created 09-23-05@4: 53PM, Completed 11-27-06@6: 41PM)
poem by Michelle Chargualaf
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School is a prison...
The classroom is…
A jail cell
There halls leading
To each cell
The school food is
taste like prison food
In the cafeteria there
are long lines for food
The principle runs
the school
The warden runs
the prison
They have guards
telling inmates what to do
We have teachers
telling students what to do
The inmates are
the students
Were all serving
A 12 year sentence
School is just a prison for students
poem by Kitty In Love
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Shoot From The Hip
If you want to get it quick.
I shoot from the hip.
Not a mumble do I grumbled,
Nor backstabbing gossiped hits.
I'm not one to leave you wondering...
What's on my mind,
Not a bit.
I don't hide my words,
When I choose to be heard.
If you want to get it straight.
I shoot from the hip.
Without a moment of delay.
I say it I don't spit.
If it's not liked how it is,
That's your business...
I'm not pissed.
Nor will you leave me in a fit.
To quiver with shut lips.
If you want to get it quick.
I shoot from the hip.
Not a mumble do I grumbled,
Nor pout and sit.
I'm not the kind to leave you wondering,
What's on my mind to admit!
Or suggest you see a psychic...
To tell you what you want and like it!
If you want to get it quick.
I shoot from the hip.
I'm not the kind to leave you wondering,
What's on my mind to admit!
If it's not liked as it is...
I'm not the kind to get pissed.
I'll deliver what I give you,
And that is it!
'So you're sayin' you do what? '
I shoot from the hip.
'What about the ears of others?
I shoot from the hip.
'What if they should have druthers? '
I said I shoot from the hip.
If they don't want to hear it,
Like it is from my lips...
They can turn around and I will kick them,
Where they are split!
Not a mumble do I grumbled.
I shoot from the hip.
No stumble do I fumble on...
I shoot from the hip!
If it's not liked how it is,
I will not get pissed.
Nor will I leave you quietly,
To quiver with shut lips.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Fun is Just Starting
The fun is just starting,
So playful each can be;
Never from joy parting,
Playing so pleasurably.
Every hour is there fun,
Troubles come so early;
Carry your smile on and on,
I love happy hours dearly.
The fun is just singing,
Every phrasing of taste;
Moments joyful bringing,
Let there be none waste.
With happy hours always,
Anyway your mood is;
With plenty of entendres,
To bring out reminisce.
The Fun is just dancing,
Into the days ahead;
And the minutes enhancing,
With all what's aforesaid.
Every hour is so exciting,
When we are having a play;
And all of it absorbing,
For nothing forever will stay.
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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I had written in another draft a completely different kind of fight, but they said they couldn't afford to shoot it. They needed a fight scene, though, so I was told to put a fight scene in, but not the one I had written.
quote by Dana Carvey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Prisoner Number 1416111981
I am a prisoner and my Cell Number is 1416111981,
I am a prisoner of love and i am now trappedon this river of love;
But, trying to escape from this prison on two occassions failled.
I am a prisoner and my Cell Number is 1416111981,
So do visit me at this river of love;
There you will see the red gate which trapped me on two occassions.
This prison had been my home for many years and,
This love is around my neck like the love of an apple;
But, one day i will be free at last.
Come to Cell Number 1416111981 to hear my story,
For this river of love was all that took me there.
I am Prisoner Number 1416111981,
And two attempts to escape from this prison had failled me;
But one day i will be free at last after serving my terms.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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