I have known Harold Ford Jr. since before he was born, in that his father was my driver in the 1966 governor's race, and has remained a friend of mine all these years.
quote by John Jay Hooker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Jerry Was A Race Car Driver
Jerry was a race car driver
And he drove so goddamned fast
He never did win no checkered flag
But he never did come in last
Jerry was a race car driver
Hed say el solo number one
With a bocephus sticker
On his 442 hed light em up
Just for fun
Captain pierce was a fireman
Richmond engine #3
Ill be a wealthy man when I get
A dime for all the things that
Man taught to me
Captain pierce was a strong man
Strong as any man alive
It stuck in his craw that they
Made him retire at the age of 65
Jerry was a race car driver
22 years old
Had too many cold beers one night
And wrapped himself around a telephone pole.
song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Damon Runyon Did You Know?
Damon was born October 4,1880
I was born 4,18th 1966
Damon died at age 66 years of age
I was born in year 1966.
He died in year 1946,
I almost died at age 46.
He wrote a play 'Guys and Dolls'
I write poems about a 'Guy'
and I have a 'Doll' as a main character.
He writes about Sarah Brown
I write about Sarah Star.
His family is from New Jersey
My family is from New Jersey.
Did you know we have a lot in common,
I could go on.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My father
I know my father
I have seen him.
I have not seen
My fathers father
I know him not
It does not mean.
My father was a holy man
And he always
Sued to tell
The race be begin.
What race I thought
I would ask
I had not the
courage to the task.
My father was a loving one
As told by my son
My father was not there
As he born.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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They are still my kin
I didn’t go to him for any favour;
He remained my friend.
I didn’t do with him any business;
He remained my cousin.
I didn’t have with him any common roof;
He remained my brother.
I didn’t keep to her my eyes wide open;
She remained my wife.
I didn’t get from them any allowance;
They remained my children.
It is as good as they are none to me;
With the God’s grace I could keep them as mine.
19.09.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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Death Alley Driver
Rough and ready rider
In a supersonic sound machine
Rock and roll survivor
Chrome pipes between your knees
Running all the red lites
Your gonna make a dead stop
But you just cant see the signs
Oh - youll never win the race
But you cant give up the chase
Death alley driver
Living at high speed
Death alley driver...yeah
Death alley driver...who knows what you need
Death alley driver...
One hundred twenty five smokin on the turns
Always on the hit and run
But you never learn...
Running from the man... and youre running
From yourself
Another dirty angel heading straight to hell
Oh - youll never win the race
But you wont give up the chase
Death alley driver...
Live in overdrive...death alley driver...yeah
Death alley driver...ride to stay alive
Death alley driver...
Lets go
Red lights in the mirror
Danger on the band
Got to take a detour cause a road blocks up ahead
He takes you on the corner with a wave of his hand
Death is in the back seat of a big old black sedan
Oh - youll never win the race...
As you turn and see his face...
Death alley driver...
Movin for the kill
Death alley driver...yeah
Death alley driver...
Time is standing still...
Death alley driver...
Always on the run cause youre a...
Death alley driver
Love the way it feels
Death alley driver...yeah
Death alley driver
Hell on wheels...
Death alley driver... ooh -
song performed by by Rainbow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Born In Chicago
I was born in chicago
1971
I was born in chicago 1970
What my father told me,
Son, youd better get a gun.
My first friend went down
When I was 16 years old
Oh my first friend went down
When I was 16 years old
Theres one thing I can say about that boy
He gotta go
My second friend went down
When I was 17 years of age
Oh my second friend went down
When I was 17 years of age
Theres one thing I can say about that boy
He gotta pray
Oh life is a lie
If you dont know how to play the game
Oh life is a lie
If you dont know how to play the game
All my friends are going
And everythings gonna stay the same
song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Johnny Mercer was my father's best friend and became mine as well. And Harold Arlen, whom I would call Uncle Harry, and Harry Warren: those were ones who I really became close to.
quote by Margaret Whiting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Execution
Execution
Ann had killed two men, for that she was fated to
die, there had been many appeals, they were in
vain; the governor too, not a man of much emotion,
had turned his manicured thumbs down.
Ann had been in our prison, five years now and had
become a friend and it was us, her keepers, whose
task it was to end her life, this woman who felt safe
in our jail, but she had brutally killed two men.
She asked us to be in the death room with her and
we spoke to her as she was injected with lethal drugs
and slipped away. A murderess that had killed her
father and brother, but refused to tell anyone why.
I was alone in the office when the phone rang,
the governor himself on the line, it was his birthday
and if it wasn’t too late her life could be spared.
“Too late? Ok! A killer, guess she deserved to die.”
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Father & Son
There is the family photograph
That is your father’s face,
There is your father’s father
Grey-gathering years apace;
The son, bright-eyed in the morning,
The father, lined and drawn,
The son became the father
On the day that you were born.
We’ve all set out on the highway
Our fathers wished us well,
The sons became the fathers
In the same distinctive spell;
The road of all beginnings
Is all there is to lend,
But many a twist, and many a turn
Has marred us at the end.
He was my father’s father,
I am my father’s son,
We’ve travelled as far, and farther
Than our father’s years have run;
The twists and turns of fortune
Mean nothing, lost or won,
But the love of a father’s father,
And the love of a father’s son.
3 September 1977
poem by David Lewis Paget
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My friend is thinking about his race
i want to have somebody to talk
my friend is thinking about his race
i want to take somebody out to have a good meal
my friend is thinking about his race
i want to talk about his interest with him
my friend is thinking about his race
i want to really teach my friend a thing or two
my friend is thinking about his race
i want to tell him to have wider look of life
my friend is thinking about his race
i want to cheer everything up with him
my friend is thinking about his race
i want to tell him he is living like a stone
my friend is thinking about his race
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I look forward to their convention and look forward to hearing the President talk about what he will do for the next four years. He hasn't done it up to this point.
quote by Harold Ford
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mr. Cab Driver
Mr Cab Driver won't you stop to let me in
Mr Cab Driver don't like my kind of skin
Mr Cab Driver you're never gonna win
Mr Cab Driver won't you stop to pick me up
Mr Cab Driver I might need some help
Mr Cab Driver only thinks about himself
Here we go
Mr Cab Driver
song performed by by Lenny Kravitz from Let Love Rule
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the final analysis this congressional race is always going to be a close race, whether there's a presidential race or governor's race or not. But is this a better year? Yes, this would probably be a better year.
quote by Baron Hill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The tears that I cry are not yours
I am not your friend who tried
to kill you last night
I am not you friend who mustanize
and try to get intimacy
I am not your friend who killed you
your father, then came back home with a gun on my face
I am not your friend
who is your friend
then your friend
what is a friend
when you have a friend
then a friend who is my friend
when I have a friend
The tears that I cry are not yours
I have never had a friend
like my mother
I have never had a friend
like my father
I have never had a friend
like my brother
my sister, she hates me
as much as I hate her
The tears that I cry are not yours
who is she to take off
her clothes in the middle of
the street and say the door will
be closed in the next fifteen minutes round
The tears that I cry are not yours
‘she my mother, my mother who cries
every time she thinks of
me’
you are my sister
but you were my sister
when my sister was born
The tears that I cry are not yours
every time I see her
I am happy
for she knows what it means to…
‘she used to come home to me
and say poy I have something for you to eat
don’t tell anyone
The tears that I cry are not yours’
poem by Amos Motlanthe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Furthest Thing From My Mind
Several years ago,
If I had witnessed a guy...
With hair longer than my sister's.
And he wore earrings and fingernail polish...
The furthest thing from my mind would be,
That he just might play professional sports.
Maybe even be a wrestler.
And a loving doting father!
THAT would not be on my mind.
If I saw a beautiful woman in those years gone,
I would not think of her as a boxer.
Or a basketball player or a race track driver.
THAT would not be on my mind either.
And today,
Those images once portrayed...
As the ideal one to idolize?
Are not in these times realized.
That's why I am quite surprised,
As to why one would question another's sexuality!
And THAT seems to be on everyone's mind.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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For 50 years my father worked for the railroad.
quote by Harold Evans
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Knocked And Ran
He, on a road, was standing
Ignorant of the road-laws.
He was in his tattered clothes;
A poor village child he was.
I was sitting in a car
On the left of the driver.
When the car came near the child,
It was slowed by the driver.
He sounded aloud the horn,
But the child did not it care.
The child, in his tattered clothes,
Remained standing mutely there.
He was aping the gesture
Of the driver of the car.
How joyful in his action,
As if he were in the car!
He was moving round his arms
In driving his unreal car.
The driver, taking the side,
Safely steered his real car.
But a truck from the front side
Down the road speedily ran.
The child, in his tattered clothes,
The truck driver knocked and ran.
poem by Aziz Ahmad
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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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Ronald Reagan, of course, was a Republican governor of California who went through a painful defeat in the 1976 presidential race before winning four years later.
quote by Michael Medved
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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