Five years from now I'm probably going to look back on the things I'm doing and cringe.
quote by Fiona Apple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Cringe
Cringe...
I do.
At the sound of an alibi.
And the ease by which,
They spill from lips...
Makes me want to run and hide.
Cringe...
From the sight of something overdone.
To impress someone.
And doing this as if,
Some status will be won.
Oh I cringe when people attend church and sin.
To do it over and over and over again.
Like a child denied something seen to quiet cries.
Even inside the most sacred of places,
People will be devious and tell some of the whitest lies.
Maybe it is from my own experiences.
Or places I've been.
That stresses my level of tolerance,
I find irritated now and then!
And 'age' does play a factor,
In one's mindset that becomes fixed...
To a stubbornness.
But of late I find that I cringe...
When it is obvious to me,
A deception is about to begin.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I suppose I sometimes used to act like I wasn't a human being... Sometimes I look back at myself and remember things I used to say, or my hairstyle, and I cringe.
quote by Madonna Ciccone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Way Back Then
Seven years ago,
I went back to Canada
after forty-two years.
I walked down a road
to show my wife where I used to live.
The road was built on rolling hills
and as I came over one,
I knew instantly where I was.
Things had changed
in those forty-two years,
some would say
it was unrecognisable
from what I used to know,
but as soon as I started down the hill
things came back like yesterday.
It was as if I had never been away.
Memories of my childhood
instantly sprang to mind.
I found myself seeing things
not as the now,
but there were changes
from the way back then.
The memory flashes
brought a smile to my face
as I could visualise
all the friends I knew then,
the funny incidents that over my life
in the way back then.
All too soon, time
has a way of taking things back
and my memory reclined them
to the back door of my mind.
30 April 2008
poem by David Harris
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I don't cringe when I think of doing old material. A lot of the people have been with me through the years.
quote by Steve Forbert
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I look back at the way that I was in that documentary I cringe.
quote by Benjamin Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I honestly have no interest in celebrity whatsoever. If anything, I always cringe at it because it takes away from what I am, which is an actor who wants to be better and do better things.
Things Are Getting Better
Well I worked for a week and I got no pay.
(things getting better.)
Well my babys coming back home to stay
(things getting better.)
Well shes coming back home, but I havent got a dime
(things getting better.)
But Ive got my love to keep me fine[? ].
(things getting better.)
Oh-oh
Things getting better.
Things getting better.
Well since my babys been away,
(things getting better.)
Well things got worse from day to day.
(things getting better.)
Well now my babys come back to me.
(things getting better.)
Yeah, itll get better, wait and see.
(things getting better.)
Oh-oh
Things getting better.
Things getting better.
Oh-oh
Things getting better.
Things getting better.
Well I pawned my watch and I sold my car.
(things getting better.)
The money Ive got wouldnt get me far.
(things getting better.)
But I dont mind now that youve packed.
(things getting better.)
Its a fact, that
Things getting better.
Things getting better.
Oh-oh
Things getting better.
Things getting better.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tears Of Years
As the years do come
And the years will go
And the years keep rushing on by.
Will you have done for me,
What I have done for you
Or will I just sit and cry.
No limit has been set,
From me to you
As the things my soul say I must do.
So the sky is your limit
Money and work will be no obstacle,
For I, truly do love you.
When you look back from years
You will look back with cheers
Reflecting back, to me and my deeds.
You will remember them all
As them always you will recall,
liken the Gardener who plants His seeds.
For again they will grow
With each smile and laugh you show
Everyday and every year of your life.
Then you will look into my eyes,
As though to erase tears I have cried,
Knowing mine weren't nourished, so they died.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Shall I tell you what the real evil is? To cringe to the things that are called evils, to surrender to them our freedom, in defiance of which we ought to face any suffering.
quote by Lucius Annaeus Seneca
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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White Hot Day
Instrumental version called bass line
In time, only time, speak for time, in time
Time calls, time cries, sweet friend of mine
Time could be a place, a spirit and a face
Teardrops through time
While away below, the whirlwinds will blow
A pretty nation speaks in time
The beauty of it is, to waken up to
Shake the hand of time
In time, only time, well speak for time
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Whisper the things that will come our way
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Hold back the years, hold back the years
Time calls, time cries, sounds like a friend of mine
Time will run to meet, the slick and shiny beat
That creeps to me through time
While away below, the whirlwinds will blow
A pretty nation sleeps in time
The beauty of it is
Well wake up to, shake the hand of time
In time, only time, in time, only time
In time
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Whisper the things that will come our way
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Hold back the tears, hold back the tears
In time, only time, well speak for time
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Whisper the things that will come our way
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Hold back the tears, hold back the tears
In time, only time
Quiet night of a white hot day
Whisper the things that will come our way
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Roll back the years, roll back the years
In time, only time, well speak for time
On a quiet night
Hold back the tears to another day
Quiet night of a white hot day
Hold back the tears, hold back the tears
Time, only time, speak for time
Quiet night of a white hot day
Whisper the things that will come our way
On a quiet night of a white hot day
Roll back the years, roll back the years
In time, only time, speak for time
Quiet night of a white hot day
Hold back the tears to another day
Quiet night of a white hot day
Words & music : james kerr, charlie burchill, mel gaynor, derek forbes, michael macneil (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Years Do Come
As the years do come
And the years will go
And the years keep rushing on by.
Will you have done for me,
What I have done for you
Or will I just sit and cry.
No limit has been set,
From me to you
As the things my soul say I must do.
So the sky is your limit
Money and work will be no obstacle,
For I, truly do love you.
When you look back
You will look back with cheers
Reflecting back, to me and my deeds.
You will remember them all
As them always you will recall,
liken the Gardener who plants His seeds.
For again they will grow
With each smile and laugh you show
Everyday and every year of your life.
Then you will look into my eyes,
As though to erase tears I have cried,
Knowing mine weren't nourished, so they died.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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I have a hard time watching the shows now. It is like opening up a yearbook when you were in junior high. I think everybody looks back at their photos and cringe, and I get to experience it with everybody else in the world looking at mine.
quote by Mark-Paul Gosselaar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I feel that I can't do certain things that have sent to me, scripts, because I think that really - I've been June Cleaver for so many years, because we went back, you know, and we did - 20-year hiatus we had - and we went back and made 105 new ones. And so I really feel very strongly that there are certain things I won't do.
quote by Barbara Billingsley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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looking Back An Overview Of A Life
Today, I turned forty three
So I look back or look ahead
Back to what I was or ahead to what I'll be
But not too far because then I'd be dead
I decided to look back then ttavel ahead
Exploring my most pivotal years
Remembering things people had said
Examining my deepest fears
Childhood, years of innocence and wonder
Everything to a child's eyes is new
Til one day, innocence is torn asunder
As surely as the sky will be blue
Teenage years, a sense of immortality
At such an age death is not even imagined
Doing everything with such youthful vitality
Not knowing the end is already predestined
Twenties and Thirties maturity is reached
And things just seem to fall into place
Your innocence, long since breached
Is remembered in the look on a child's face
In your Forties attaining middle age
Deciding that maturity looks good on you
Graying hair, against which you don't rage
You feel it's distinguished, how very true
poem by Harry J. Couchon Jr
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Village Mystery
The woman in the pointed hood
And cloak blue-gray like a pigeon's wing,
Whose orchard climbs to the balsam-wood,
Has done a cruel thing.
To her back door-step came a ghost,
A girl who had been ten years dead,
She stood by the granite hitching-post
And begged for a piece of bread.
Now why should I, who walk alone,
Who am ironical and proud,
Turn, when a woman casts a stone
At a beggar in a shroud?
I saw the dead girl cringe and whine,
And cower in the weeping air--
But, oh, she was no kin of mine,
And so I did not care!
poem by Elinor Morton Wylie
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Paintings
colours, they bring back
scenes and scents
your painting, it brings
brings me back all the years
still i can sit in that chair of
that long lost cafe and
have the privilege of a
tete a tete with friends,
imagined and real
of things we all cherish
the love of art and all the things
that it brings - scenes,
scents, and the time
we thought is lost
forever in time
Second Version
--
colours, they bring back
scenes and scents
your painting, it brings
brings me back all the years
still i can sit in that chair of
that long lost cafe and
have the privilege of a
tete a tete with friends,
imagined and real
of things we all cherish
the love of art and all the things
that it brings - scenes,
scents and geniuses
overheated talents
that drove them lunatics,
madmen manoevring
with the coldness
of the arctics
volcanoes that explode
splotches, dashes
splashes, onto the
canvas of their dreams
colours, they bring back
scenes and scents
paintings, they bring back
all the years nature plods on
against adversities to help
the artist pour out its best onto canvas
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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When I Look At The Time That I Have Wasted Years Ago
i feel like a frozen glass filled with water in the freezer
when i look back to all the years that i have wasted
doing the things where i can never put my best
because that is what father want me to be
i leave all the traces of what i love in those years
that still ask me where i am
where i live what i have been doing lately
when they heard that i am into law they all laughed
and then sighed
that is not the name that they first know me
they have a word for me
written in the poems that i once wrote
my name was lust and love all bound together
in one piece
my name was written in the cover book of the literature book
in the maiden issues
of the poetry collections of lilia and tita
i look back again and they all raise their hands back
as though to embrace me
back into their bosoms again
they are calling my name
you are poetry.please come back to us.
i know the reason why i am sad.
i have forgotten my real name.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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We Cannot Go Back
You can never go back
to something you once had.
You may want to return,
but you cannot anymore.
The times you want back
are gone for evermore,
and only lie within your memory store.
All of us would like
to turn the clock back
every once and a while.
Grasp hold of something
locked in our previous years.
However, we cannot go back
no matter how much
we would dearly love to.
We can only go forward
find new things to do
and new memories make.
12 November 2009
poem by David Harris
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There For Me
You've been there for me, through thick and thin;
When my whole world felt like it was caving in.
We have shared many times: the good and the bad;
You have seen me happy; you have seen me sad.
You know me back to front and inside out;
You understand everything that I am about.
You know things I like, and the things I hate.
To me, you are a friend: my very best mate.
We've been good friends now, for many years.
You've seen my smiles; you've seen my tears.
To you, I've often revealed my true inner soul.
Together, we have often achieved many a goal.
When I am down, I can always call on you,
And, you know that you can call on me too.
Together, we have travelled to many places,
And, over the years, we have met many faces.
Talking things over, our problems seem to halve.
Our two lives, to date, have followed similar paths.
We have shared experiences, both old and new.
Luckily, our disagreements have been very few.
You are always prepared to lend me an ear.
You know my obsessions; you know my fears.
Friends, together, I hope we will always stay,
In years to come, when we're both old and grey.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Brother John And Friends
I sat quietly in my study
and tried to concentrate
when I heard things crashing
all about the house,
then came the rattle of chains
a sound I had not heard in years.
I closed my eyes in dread,
as I knew who was calling
a pesky friend Brother John and his entourage.
Brother John was back with ghostly friends,
back to wreak havoc over my life again.
It wasn’t so much Brother John
but his dubious ghostly friends.
Bang went my peaceful life
as it had done many years before.
Now it was back to being ever watchful
of things flying across the room
of lights being switched on and off.
It was all mischievous fun
to Brother John and friends
and all I could do was sit
and wonder when will it ever end.
16 September 2009
poem by David Harris
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