Born Berlin 1931, Germany, father a British diplomat, mother an American artist. Educated at various schools all over the world. 1958 Settled down to live in London. 1966 Became interested in photography through photographing my young children. No formal training.
quote by Fay Godwin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Half my father
Half my father
Half my mother
My mother white as a ghost
My father black as coal
In my face the mixture glows
My skin is white
Still I am a black man
By the make of my nose
My hair is curly
My eyes are gray
Within me both if them lives
My mother’s race
Did enslave
My father’s race
Was never paid.
Still within I bare the two
Am O the new American?
My father is white
My mother is Korean
They met during the war
And I was born
Their only son
By my tone of skin
And by my eyes
You can tell
That there is a divide
And by my blonde hair
It is there for you to spy
Am I the new American?
My mother is German
My father polish
I learned three languages
As I grew older
Both of them
Did love me well
And of each country did tell
That I could draw
From each well
Am I the new American?
My father is Chinese
My mother Spanish
Both crossed over the Rio Grand
I am in the make of my father
But I have my mother’s brown skin
Am I the new American?
poem by David E. Patton
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We're here so that Afghanistan does not once again become a sanctuary for transnational extremists the way it was when al-Qaeda planned the 9/11 attacks in the Kandahar area, conducted the initial training for the attackers in training camps in Afghanistan before they moved on to Germany and then to U.S. flight schools.
quote by David Petraeus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My strange dream; A Mudlark sings on an Eucalyptus tree in Victoria!
The Magpie like bird sang something
But still I remember this 'Ivan Rebroff' and the rest faded, .
And I referred Wikipedia, the free Encyclopedia!
Ivan Rebroff a German singer
Allegedly of Russian Ancestry
He was born in Berlin,31, July,1931
As Hans-Rolf Rippert.
He became a citizen of Greece
And lived on the Greek Island of Skopelos in the Soprades.
He died as a Bachelor on February 27,2008 in Frankfurt, Germany.
* I received a call from my daughter in Australia and after finishing few pages of Chekhov's short-story straight away jumped to bed, and still I am wondering of this dream!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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London
We came from the far North
summered in Crimea
deserted the armed forces
had to disappear
made it to the free West
on a chartered flight
so we could see what
we trained to fight
We were in London
"Let's do it - let's break the law!"
We were in London
Tell it like it is
We were in London
Tell it like it is
Looking for hard work
or credit card fraud
What do you expect from us?
We come from abroad
to get ourselves a new job
on a building-site
They work you so hard
but we trained to fight
We were in London
"Let's do it - let's break the law!"
We were in London
Tell it like it is
We were in London
"Let's do it - let's break the law!"
We were in London
Tell it like it is
My father fought in Afghanistan
His widow's pension ain't worth a damn
My mother works and goes home to cry
I want to live before I die
We were in London
"Let's do it - let's break the law!"
We were in London
Tell it like it is
We were in London
Tell it like it is
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Only Live Once
You only live once.
Like a lasting flower.
Live life to the fullest by every hour.
Live it like no tomorrow.
From the mornings ending with one of your best nights.
Live your dreams and fly by taking flights.
Imagine and draw out creativity.
Of the skill that you chase for your goal as your ability.
Life is so pure with beauty as you travel to a journey.
The money, the family, and being happy is reality.
Live your life and make it a true story.
Be a leader not a follower.
Be a good father and mother.
In this world people die and in this world some people lie.
And in this world people cry.
Babies that are born in this world.
Are born to be something not nothing.
Women with independence I salute.
We are young like a sweet fruit.
Its sweeter but gets bitter.
And we live our life as we young but we get older.
Life moves fast but we mature slower.
Dont't let your life go to waste.
Because you only live once and living a better life is the case.
poem by Anteaus Berryhill
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J'adore the underground
Underground,
London is awake, the city is moving,
Business is created.
underground,
Love is in the air,
Children are born, one up, one down
London is buzzing.
Underground, underground,
People meet, chat, laugh,
Get acquainted, start walking
Passion is created.
Underground, underground
Take me around, show me all the places
That I haven’t found.
Underground, take me to the airport
London is connected.
Underground, underground
Modern technology, old wisdom
Schools are open, universities are visited.
Underground, take me home, mind the gap,
you keep moving all seasons.
Underground without you, London is like sun without ammunition.
You keep London moving, motivated.
Underground, underground
J'adore you.
poem by Lucia Domingos Fula
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Barack Hussein Obama II
Barack Obama in Berlin,
With words like a bard to put us in order;
But many minds will lay low to think.
Being one of his father's children among the four wives and,
A vision came to him to achieve the best of life with dreams;
Right from the beginning of things to fulfil his ambitions and,
As the right person to stand for the U.S Presidential race.
Care was given to him from every angle to push him up like,
Kenya where his father came from.
Barack Obama in Berlin,
With words like a bard to put us in order;
But many minds will lay low to think.
Here in Berlin with the advantage of his reputations and,
Using the opportunities in the U.S.A. like his father had;
Showing how great it is to share without racism and religion like,
Sunflowers in a sweet green field with the smell of an aroma:
Emitting with positive words to call us all together as one.
In the U.S.A. to reach out to the world with love and,
Now that he is running for the presidential seat.
Barack Obama in Berlin,
With words like a bard to put us in order;
But many minds will lay low to think.
Obama has made a name in this world so sweet,
Being rated among the best to bring us together;
Along the lines of war, hatred and peace like,
Masters of the act of flying to reach a place:
A memory of his visit will sit many down to think.
Barack Obama in Berlin,
With words like a bard to put us in order;
But many minds will lay low to think.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Home is the father's kingdom, the children's paradise, the mother's world.
In Germany air became generally accepted Berlin in this area. It operated with 45 airplanes within the Low Cost range from Germany, and is one the most successful carriers in Europe.
quote by Niki Lauda
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An artist never works under ideal conditions. If they existed, his work wouldn't exist, for the artist doesn't live in a vacuum. Some sort of pressure must exist. The artist exists because the world is not perfect. Art would be useless if the world were perfect, as man wouldn't look for harmony but would simply live in it. Art is born out of an ill-designed world. This is the issue in Andrey Rubliov.
quote by Andrei Tarkovsky
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Origin Of Death
In the Day ere Man came,
In the Morning of Life,
They came together
The Father, the Mother,
Debating.
'Forever they shall live,
'Our Children,
'When they are born Men,
'Forever they shall live,'
Said the Father,
Said the Mother.
But the little Bird cried,
Ah, the little Bird cried:
'How shall I nest me -
'How shall I nest me
'In their warm graves
'If men live forever?'
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Revelation
Mother please forgive them
For they know not what they do
Looking back in history's books
It seems it's nothing new
Oh! Let my mother live
Heaven is for heroes
All hell is full of fools
Stupidity, no will to live
They're breaking God's own rules
Please let my mother live
Father, of all creation
I think we're all going wrong
The course they're taking
Seems to be breaking
And it won't take too long
Children of the future
Watching empires fall
Madness the cup they drink from
Self-destruction the toll
I had a vision,
I saw the world burn
And the seas had turned red
The sun had fallen,
The final curtain
In the land of the dead
Mother, please show the children
Before it's too late
To fight each other,
There's no one winning
We must fight all the hate
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some go on to trade schools or get further training for jobs they are interested in. Some go into the arts, some are craftsmen, some take a little time out to travel, and some start their own businesses. But our graduates find and work at what they want to do.
quote by Daniel Greenberg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The mother and the artist
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of wonderfully emollient freshness; every
unfurling instant of impregnably magnificent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of spellbindingly undefeated innocence; every
unfurling instant of symbiotically pristine existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of timelessly unconquerable truth; every unfurling
instant of bounteously magnanimous existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unfathomably unfettered creativity; every
unfurling instant of timelessly burgeoning existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of royally triumphant resplendence; every
unfurling instant of unconquerably majestic existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of eternally exhilarating vivaciousness; every
unfurling instant of redolently insuperable existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unbelievably ameliorating optimism; every
unfurling instant of marvelously benign existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of brilliantly liberated camaraderie; every
unfurling instant of iridescently inscrutable existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unshakably virgin righteousness; every
unfurling instant of beautifully untainted existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of uninhibitedly heavenly frolic; every unfurling
instant of tantalizingly sensuous existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of compassionately humanitarian friendship; every
unfurling instant of magically mitigating existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of miraculously everlasting freshness; every
unfurling instant of invincibly coalescing existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of pricelessly ubiquitous oneness; every unfurling
instant of robustly blessed existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unbreakably Omnipotent desire; every unfurling
instant of victoriously effulgent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unceasingly reinvigorating fantasy; every
unfurling minute of poignantly charismatic existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of insurmountably intrepid enchantment; every
unfurling minute of rhapsodically unhindered existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of Omnisciently tranquil serenity; every unfurling
instant of endlessly bestowing existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of perpetually fragrant breath; every unfurling
instant of Omnipresently benevolent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of Immortally ardent love; every unfurling instant
of limitlessly fructifying existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of fantastically alleviating poetry; every
unfurling instant of boundlessly splendid existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of fabulously effervescent tanginess; every
unfurling instant of spiritually uplifting existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unlimitedly enlightening Sunshine; every
unfurling instant of infallibly luminescent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of immaculately godly melody; every unfurling
instant of amiably melanging existence,
Because. And Only Because. A Mother is; has and shall for times immemorial
remain the Greatest Sculptor of every organism on this astoundingly
multiplying Universe; A Mother is the Greatest Artist….
poem by Nikhil Parekh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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First We Take Manhattan
Leonard Cohen)
They sentenced me to twenty years of boredom
For trying to change the system from within
I'm coming now I'm coming to reward them
First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin
I'm guided by a signal in the heavens
I'm guided by this birthmark on my skin
I'm guided by the beauty of our weapons
First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin
I'd really like to live beside you, baby
I love your body and your spirit and your clothes
But you see that line there moving through the station
I told you I told you I told you I was one of those
You loved me as a loser but now your worried that I just might win
You know the way to stop me but you don't have the discipline
How many nights I prayed for this: to let my work begin
First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin
I don't like your fashion business, mister
I don't like these drugs that keep you thin
I don't like what happened to your sister
First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin (chorus)
And I thank you for those items that you sent me
The monkey and the plywood violin
I practiced every night and now I'm ready
First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin
Remember me, I used to live for music
Remember me, I brought your groceries in
It's Father's Day and everybody's wounded
First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On His Father's Side
On his mother’s side
Born in Bethlehem
On his Father’s side
No one before him
On his mother’s side
Growing and learning
On his Father’s side
All knowledge showing
On his mother’s side
Stuck in one location
On his Father’s side
Present in every nation
On his mother’s side
He was hungry
On his Father’s side
The multitudes he did feed
On his mother’s side
At Calvary he died
On his Father’s side
He was the essence of life
On his mother’s side
Buried like other men
On his Father’s side
He rose again
On his mother’s side
Human and weak
On his Father’s side
The God of eternity.
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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When I first became interested in photography, I thought it was the whole cheese. My idea was to have it recognized as one of the fine arts. Today I don't give a hoot in hell about that. The mission of photography is to explain man to man and each man to himself.
quote by Edward Steichen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Young American
They pulled in just behind the fridge
He lays her down, he frowns
"Gee my life's a funny thing, am I still too young?"
He kissed her then and there
She took his ring, took his babies
It took him minutes, took her nowhere
Heaven knows, she'd have taken anything, but
All night
She wants the young American
Young American, young American, she wants the young American
All right
She wants the young American
Scanning life through the picture windows
She finds the slinky vagabond
He coughs as he passes her Ford Mustang, but
Heaven forbid, she'll take anything
But the freak, and his type, all for nothing
He misses a step and cuts his hand, but
Showing nothing, he swoops like a song
She cries "Where have all Papa's heroes gone?"
All night
She wants the young American
Young American, young American, she wants the young American
All right
She wants the young American
All the way from Washington
Her bread-winner begs off the bathroom floor
"We live for just these twenty years
Do we have to die for the fifty more?"
All night
He wants the young American
Young American, young American, he wants the young American
All right
He wants the young American
Do you remember, your President Nixon?
Do you remember, the bills you have to pay
Or even yesterday
Have you been an un-American?
Just you and your idol singing falsetto 'bout
Leather, leather everywhere, and
Not a myth left from the ghetto
Well, well, well, would you carry a razor
In case, just in case of depression
Sit on your hands on a bus of survivors
Blushing at all the afro-Sheilas
Ain't that close to love?
Well, ain't that poster love?
Well, it ain't that Barbie doll
Her heart's been broken just like you have
And
All night
You want the young American
Young American, young American, you want the young American
All right
You want the young American
You ain't a pimp and you ain't a hustler
A pimp's got a Cadi and a lady got a Chrysler
Black's got respect, and white's got his soul train
Mama's got cramps, and look at your hands ache
I heard the news today, oh boy
I got a suite and you got defeat
Ain't there a man you can say no more?
And, ain't there a woman I can sock on the jaw?
And, ain't there a child I can hold without judging?
Ain't there a pen that will write before they die?
Ain't you proud that you've still got faces?
Ain't there one damn song that can make me
break down and cry?
All night
I want the young American
Young American, young American, I want the young American
All right
I want the young American
Young American
Young American, young American, I want the young American
(I want with you, I want with you want)
All right
(You want it, I want you you, you want I, I want you want)
Young American, young American, I want the young American (I want to want, to want, to want , to want I, I want you)
All right
(Lord I wanted the young american)
(young american)
Young American, Young American
I want the young American
Mmmmmm mmm
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Having a dad in the service was helpful. I was forever meeting new kids, going to new schools, moving to new neighborhoods. I was encouraged when I attended the American School in Germany.
quote by Marcia Gay Harden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Born in 1966
Born in 1966
Born in the year 1966,
It was a hippy society
with hippies and chicks.
Now if I add my birth
numbers up minus the one,
I’m pretty sure that’s how it’s done.
Anyways, it comes to the number 44,
They say it stands for Atlantis
in it’s ancient forklore.
Now I was around during Atlantis time,
I had to die for committing no crime.
I probably wrote a “peeve” poem
making a political statement that rhymed.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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