Even when you write it, someone's got to play it. So if you can play it and bypass all the rest of the things, you're still doing as great as someone that has spent forty years trying to find out how to do that. I'm really pro-human beings, pro-expression of everything.
quote by Ornette Coleman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Let Us Learn How To Play!
Life is a game,
Full of anxiety,
Full of excitement,
Who is the player?
I, you and we are players
if we are all players,
for what we play?
For what we have to play?
For money or name,
Or to gain some toys
to feel only more pain?
We take nothing at the end,
trophies and medals,
will not have meaning,
why we run here and there,
Jump and hop,
laugh and weep, Why we strive to win?
We never know causes,
Whose effect is this life?
We don't know our cause here,
And we talk of causes!
What cause may take us where?
Useless to think, just play your game!
Find the player
who play and enjoy all alone,
Creating own ground and arena,
He plays and enjoys the game,
so many things bring us shame,
Our own thoughts and deeds,
Who is enemy of us greater than these?
Let him play his game,
Pray him for rest,
sit and meditate at his feet,
Or get the yellow card for wrong play!
Anyway find a way to sit aside,
Let others play,
let us rest a while,
Watch and learn how to play!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why we play as children is not because it is our work or because it is how we learn, though both statements are true; we play because we are wired for joy, it is imperative as human beings.
quote by John Thorn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The seasoned one has value
Dear,
I can’t play
The youngsters played,
The play of romance,
The play of hides and seeks
And the play of abandonment.
Dear,
I still can play
The youngsters failed,
The play of passion,
The play of care and concern
And the play of enrichment.
That is why
You, half my age,
At your middle age,
Still find in me repose,
Still find in me sway and solace
And seek the sex fulfillment.
20.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She Stands By Her Son
He is a serial killer and awful things he has done
But his mother says he is not guilty and she stands by her son
A jury found him guilty but with their verdict she does not agree
She says my son is innocent i believe what he told me
That he did not murder those women the jury got it wrong
For him forty years in prison is forty years too long
For one completely innocent of any serious crime
The jury they erred badly they got it wrong this time
Though human blood and hair found on the bodies of the victims of foul play
According to the lab technicians did match his D N A
But there must have been a mix up and grieved am i to say
that for the crimes of some evil one my innocent son must pay
And all others say he is guilty she is the only one
To say that he is innocent she won't forsake her son.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry May Be Play
Poetry may be Play-
Play of words,
Play of feelings,
Play of thoughts
But the deepest poetry
Is not play.
Play is not the thing
When it comes to the deepest things-
They are beyond play
And perhaps even beyond Laughter-
Play is O.K.
But Poetry in its most holy and painful ways
Is beyond Play.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Words Of Bluesman Jack
From bar to bar
I play my life story
to the crowd
I play for the people
I play for my sanity
I've played
for forty years on the road
with nothing but the blues
I've lived a full life
but a lonely life
The hearts I have taken
The hearts I have broken
It all comes together
in the blues songs of salvation
with the pain and the hate
of a world in despair
From bar to bar
I play my life story
to the crowd
I play them the blues
the blues of salvation
poem by Dave Alan Walker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I feel great. I had a triple bypass in 1976 and a quadruple bypass in 1984.
quote by Jimmy Piersall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cormac Dinneen
They wanted him in Kerry to play with their football team
But Cormac he loved Millstreet and he wore their famous green
And he too wore the red Cork jersey with passion and with pride
A legend in his playing days and he was known far and wide.
I watched him play as a veteran when he was past his prime
Way back in the late fifties some forty years in time
Against one ten years younger he more than held his own
A marvellous defender then one of the finest known.
The Millstreet fans they loved him a player they did revere
He never shirked a challenge a stranger to all fear
He never was found wanting when he was put to the test
And in the Cork County colours he played against the best.
When Millstreet's elder gaelic football fans talk of the Millstreet greats they've seen
A player they always mention is the great Cormac Dinneen
To them he was one of Millstreet's best and they still heap upon him praise
For he was one of their heroes in Millstreet's glory days.
And though time catch up on everyone and the years have made him slow
He was a Cork and Millstreet great some fity years ago
And in forty eight when Millstreet won the County he lived up to his name
As one of Ireland's best defenders then in the Gaelic football game.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grand Rapids Cricket Club
In Grand Rapids is a handsome club,
Of men that cricket play,
As fine a set of skillful men
That can their skill display.
They are the champions of the West,
They think they are quite fine,
They've won a hundred honors well;
It is their most cunning design.
Brave Kelso, he's considered great,
Chief of the club he is found;
Great crowds he draws to see him bowl
The ball upon the ground.
And Mr. Follet is very brave,
A lighter player than the rest,
He got struck severe at the fair ground
For which he took a rest.
When Mr. Dennis does well play,
His courage is full great,
And accidents to him occur,
But not much, though, of late.
This ball play is a dangerous game,
Brave knights to play it though;
Those boys would be the nation's pride,
If they to war would go.
From Milwaukee their club did come,
With thoughts of skill at play,
But beat they was, and then went home --
Had nothing more to say.
Grand Rapids club that cricket play,
Will soon be known afar,
Much prouder do the members stand,
Like many a noble star.
poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hide & Seek
There was a time when there was nothing at al
Nothing at all, just a distant hum
There was a being and he lived on his own
He had no one to talk to, and nothing to do
He drew up the plans, learnt to work with his hands
A million years passed by and his work was done
And his words were these...
Hope you find it in everything, everything that you see
Hope you find it in everything, everything that you see
Hope you find it, hope you find it
Hope you find me in you
So she had built her elaborate home
With its ups and its downs, its rains and its sun
She decided that her work was done, time to have fun
And she found a game to play
Then as part of the game
She completely forgot where shed hidden herself
And she spent the rest of her time
Trying to find the parts
Hope you find it in everything, everything that you see
Hope you find it in everything, everything that you see
Hope you find it, hope you find it
Hope you find me in you
There was a time when there was nothing at all, nothing at all
Just a distant hum
song performed by by Howard Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Play To Play
Play to play
Not for home
Not for bed...
Play to
The ground...
Play with
Ball and the bat
OR run and play...
Live your body
Good for health
Have the nice...!
Twice the day
Morning and
Evening go to play...
That is secerat
Of your life
Understand
To try with
Play to play
Day by day....!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Sad Guitar (In Iraq)
When I play...my sad guitar,
With powered chords...of deep emotion.
I strum the strings...with such devotion,
When I play...my...sad...guitar.
When I play...my sad guitar,
In a bunker, built in the sand.
This war torn country, this desert land,
I miss playing...In a rock and roll band.
When I play...my...sad...guitar.
When I play...my sad guitar,
My memories play,
Deep in my mind,
I try to find-
Our... wedding... day!
When I play...my...sad...guitar.
When I play...my sad guitar,
I think of my Harley...My hot-rod car,
Wishing I was home,
With a beer in a bar.
When I play...my...sad...guitar.
poem by Philip Lore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A play in writing
I would write of us
In a play of great romance
Of a love unforeseen
A play without tragedy
No Romeo nor Juliet
But an honest lasting love
We could grow old together
Holidays on the beach
And countless family parties
A tale with such comedy
That we are filled with joy
Our love shared would grow
And bare the fruit of family
Those who would share with us
Every memory and every day
To fall asleep and wake beside
One as beautiful as you
Such is the play I wish to write
A parody of my dreams
A revelation of my life
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Great literature, past or present, is the expression of great knowledge of the human heart; great art is the expression of a solution of the conflict between the demands of the world without and that within.
quote by Edith Hamilton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Yeah. I'm amateurish. I can play enough to write a song, or strum on a little guitar to write out a song. But, I don't play well at all. I wouldn't even attempt for a second to play in public.
quote by Ben E. King
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Theatre Of The Absurd
(ian hunter)
My tea turned seven shades darker
As I sit n write these words
And londons gettin paler
In my theatre of the absurd.
You figured for an evening
And you made it all worthwile.
Its seldom people have a job
And even rarer that I smile.
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Teach your children to be them
And never ever ours.
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Someone took the park away
But they left a lonely flower.
And if your songs be classics,
Throw them to the hurd.
Truth is where they came from
And not this theatre of the absurd.
Some say you wanted to play for me
But its only what youve heard
That made you want to capture me
In your theatre of the absurd.
It was not me, I said myself
And you must do so, too.
I hope you have the strength to stay
When Ill be watchin you.
So baby,
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Teach your children to be them
And never ever ours.
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Someone took the park away
But they left a lonely flower.
Oh when I got here back home tonight
Something within me stirred.
Oh it must have been a different kind of play
That touched my theatre of the absurd.
Now Ill be on my way alone
But an interesting thing occurred
See nobody ever shared too much
In my theatre of the absurd.
And there I was back in london,
Thought about history.
It was just like being in school again
But I felt something movin in me.
Hearin just a bit of the future,
Oh its comin and its still blurred
And thats the only thing worth living for
In my theatre of the absurd.
Come on,
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Teach your children to be them
And never ever ours.
Oh play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Someone took the park away
But they left a lonely flower.
(beautiful)
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
(john, come on)
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Oh, play me some, (come on, eric) play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Oh, play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
...
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Words
Yeats so simply stated
' Words alone are certain good. '
And to the great poet
So highly rated
I try to listen, as I should; Yet
Being an untrained novice
Such as me
With verdant hopes of much improvement
- oh that I would -
I beg to slightly differ with W. B.
And offer here my humble opinion
- if I could -
Good certainly is not words alone,
For without humanity
To read and to write
How would they ever become known?
- For without the good of people
Who of these words would care
Ever to be heard, or even shared?
No, the good does not alone from words arise,
Rather from human beings
Whose entire story
Such words do attempt to comprise.......
- Words written in this time
May even the way
To a distant future find,
But not on their own
And never alone.
For it takes people's
- hand's to write
- eye's to read
- heart and soul to understand
The purpose, and the need.
Let it here be shown
Words alone
Are not the only good,
They need human beings
To give goodness and life
To their reason and meaning
For they are merely the vehicle
By which man's true good
Is found and understood.
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Goodbye
Everydays the same
I feel them merge
I try to separate
Resist the urge
But they tell me
Ill be fine
That it will all get better
Just try to write it down
Or put it in a letter
But the words wont play
And theres no
Easy way to say
Goodbye, goodbye
Keep my head on straight
And dont look down
With all Ive pushed away
Im losing ground
But they tell me
Ill be fine
That it will all get better
Just try to write it down
Or put it in a letter
But the words wont play
And theres no
Easy way to say
Goodbye, goodbye
And from the sidelines
Watch me fall down
And I dont understand
The things I do
But Ill probably be fine
As long as I keep moving
Ill try to write it down
So things just keep improving
Still the words wont play
cause theres no
Easy way to say
Goodbye, goodbye
song performed by by Natalie Imbruglia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Goodbye
Everydays the same
I feel them merge
I try to separate
Resist the urge
But they tell me
Ill be fine
That it will all get better
Just try to write it down
Or put it in a letter
But the words wont play
And theres no
Easy way to say
Goodbye, goodbye
Keep my head on straight
And dont look down
With all Ive pushed away
Im losing ground
But they tell me
Ill be fine
That it will all get better
Just try to write it down
Or put it in a letter
But the words wont play
And theres no
Easy way to say
Goodbye, goodbye
And from the sidelines
Watch me fall down
And I dont understand
The things I do
But Ill probably be fine
As long as I keep moving
Ill try to write it down
So things just keep improving
Still the words wont play
cause theres no
Easy way to say
Goodbye, goodbye
song performed by by Natalie Imbruglia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh yeah, it's great see music and to play music in small places. And it's really fun for me to play here because, you know, I played two feet from people all night. And after all those years, it's great to be able to talk to folks.
quote by Bill Kreutzmann
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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