Even the two times that I left, I never really felt like I left the band. It's very bizarre. It's like there's sort of an umbilical cord that stretches between us spiritually.
quote by Rick Wakeman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sad To Be Without You
Sad to be without you
Sad to laugh withot you
Sad to live without you
Because I feel that
The umbilical cord
Broke after you died
And I was left behind
Feeling sad that
I was not connected
To that umbilical cord
poem by Aldo Kraas
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But then when he left, I realized that it was harder to write songs and feel spiritually connected to art and music as a band. When he came back I felt it again, instantaneously.
quote by Anthony Kiedis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The umbilical cord
I had a pain, unspeakable
when you have left me.
I have it as a pleasurable pain
As the umbilical cord was not cut.
Now if you want to turn away from me,
My pain itself will run away.
Your pride of being loved, too.
15.09.99, palakkad.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I now know how Abbot felt when Costello left, how Brinkley felt when Huntley left, how Sears felt when Roebuck left, and, of course, how Dan Rather felt when Connie left. (at Robert MacNeil's retirement dinner)
quote by Jim Lehrer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Band Of Gold
(r. dunbar & e. wayne)
Producer for bonnie: jim steinman
Now that youve gone
All thats left is a band of gold
All thats left of the dreams I hold
Is a band of gold
And the memories
Of what love could be
If you were
Still here with me
You took me from the shelter of a mother I had never known
The love of any other
We kissed after taking vows
But that night on our honeymoon
We stayed in separate rooms
I waited in the darkness of my lonely room
Filled with sadness, filled with gloom
Hoping soon
That youd walk back through that door
And love me
Liked you tried before
Since youve been gone
All thats left is a band of gold
All thats left of the dreams I hold
Is a band of gold
And the dream of what love could be
If you were still here with me
Since youve been gone
All thats left is a band of gold
All thats left of the dreams I hold
Is a band of gold
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Umbilical
Chiming bells, uproaring thunder-like voices, merry making, upon the promulgation of a child
Cries emanates, just as the umbilical cord becomes set for cut
The daunts & wearies of the child opens in sheer despairity
Seeming 'a punishment' at birth
Oops! Just flustery scenes advertently nothing can be done
An anti-thesis like an armoury clad then render at the time due making the sky deeply frightened but yet not taken aback
An enticement, never can it be ignored, not even on the 'kerstmis' in a year of plenty
Umbilical cord it hovers, armistic it acts as the child gasp for breath
A separation & passage which broils unto humanity, the adventures ahead and the apportioned destinies.
But knowingly, even after the darkest of unending nights, lies a certainty of a brighter sky amid unwavering faith & unabated hopes tomorrow
#Certainly umbilical
poem by Prince Kenny Osei
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Anchor
As a baby
I was fastened to mother’s belly
As I float in her amniotic fluids
Through an uncut umbilical cord,
I kept that
In my navel forever, perhaps,
As times pass by, as I begin living a life
Of my own, in work, in love,
In circles of my daily undertakings & means,
I anchor myself to some ideals
Like
Being clean, and honest, and
Having integrity, principles,
Sort of another set of umbilical cord,
Though in different conceptions,
A figurative sense of the word
Or something emblematic,
I keep
That in my mind, now, perhaps, who knows,
Forever,
The feeling of having to float is
Always there, wherever I am, be it in
A drinking spree with friends, making love with my wife,
Or asking a night with a woman that I just met
At the sleazy bar,
Or in the
Simple study of
Some ordinary events here and there,
A feeling of lightness for being so
Different from the rest of those who are
Here with me once,
These idiosyncrasies of self, always getting to know why me,
This quirk,
This oddball,
Why am I being different yet so ordinarily elbowing with all,
Why this sort of floating
Drifting,
Like a canoe on smooth silvery river,
Dusts floating in air,
A white crane gliding,
A waft of culinary flavors from a
A food plate,
A shadow of a plane hovering,
This drift,
This sail on some seas without land
Or anchor,
Like when I write poetry grasping ideas, floating, drifting ideas
Catching them with the nets of my recollections
Bobbing and dangling
Trying to find a buoy,
An anchor, of weight, to hold things together, to make links
Chains to hold on to.
Of what I am who I am
Who I was
And where I am going,
I hold on to faith
Hold on to faith, they will always tell me, the priest the nun
& the Voice of God
And just in case I still float, drift, and waft
To tense & terse feelings and lots of pretenses
I go outside,
Touch a tree, feel its rugged barks, smell its
Leaves, stick my hands to its sticky stains, and
I
Get stuck, I want it, I want being stuck.
I hold on, to the sturdy tree standing near me,
I hold on
Like a baby floating on amniotic fluids fastened to an umbilical cord
Or
Like a hot air balloon, anchored on some sandbags and ropes on the ground.
I am somehow fastened, anchored, I become real.
Now, touch me, talk to me, hold me tightly please.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ropes, , , ,
an umbilical cord
is a rope
mother cuts it
for good
despite this
an imaginary cord still exists
between two minds
a bridge
where no one wants to
walk
imagination is cut
there is now an empty space
sort of conceived
independence
for me to grow
and be full
between us the bridge
must be broken
no ropes this time
no binding bond
between two continents
will always be an ocean
giant ships travel
a hundred whales
swim
i like is this way
between us
the Pacific ocean
no islands
just waves so huge
that sometimes
we are brave enough
in hopelessness
no ropes this time
no hands and arms
between us
this blinding darkness
this utter silence
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Musso
Musso my ginger Persian cat
lies stretched out
and sleeping
on the box of my computer.
Every now and then
he opens his golden eyes
and yawns and stretches out
his golden-yellow striped
left foot.
When I stroke his head
he stretches it back
and there’s a smile
of pleasure
with two tiny protruding white teeth.
At times this beautiful golden monster
brings his presents to me
and any big grasshopper,
mouse, rat, bird
or snake
that he finds
surprises me at times.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Using adult stem cells drawn from bone marrow and umbilical cord blood system cells, scientists have discovered new treatments for scores of diseases and conditions such as Parkinson's disease, juvenile diabetes, and spinal cord injuries.
quote by Nathan Deal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I named it that because more or less each person from the band used to play in other bands and when we left respective bands other members from those bands all sort of changed round. It was a big sort of move thing. I got it from that, I suppose.
The umbilical cord of Mother Earth connects us all.
aphorism by Hasier Agirre, translated by Dan Costinaş
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Sisters
She left me and my world just died.
She left me and all the tears I cried
could never bring her back to me.
And so inside I felt empty.
Time has passed but my memory's clear
and at times it's almost like she's still here.
Gone into the ethers mid angels like she,
gone, yet not gone, for she's still with me.
The separation scene, still hard to accept
is the necessary void that has always kept
the distance I feel while my life goes on
and the ache that comes when my day is done.
I will see you again when my time runs out.
Togetherness will return.. We'll not be without
the joy that we felt for we'll feel it again.
We'll know the peace that two sisters can.
You left me and it's been a long way back
to recover from loss and the feeling of lack.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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My guitars are my umbilical cord. They're directly wired into my head.
quote by Kirk Hammett
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Surprisingly Alive
Happiness is gone, it disappeared
It played me for years making me feel I deserved it
It was positive, and left me an optimist
I saw life through different eyes with happiness
It made me see what cannot be seen
It made me feel feelings I had not bothered to explore
I felt free beneath it's control
I felt invincible in it's arms
Happiness was my everything, it was my soul
It was what kept me moving forward
It was what made me want to live, to breath, to be
Then one day it left, it walked out on me
It left nothing behind but memories I could not have again
It walked out and never looked back
It walked out on me when I needed it the most
It pretended like nothing ever happened between us
Happiness kicked me towards sadness, it shoved me towards it
Then it left after it saw what happened
It got weak and left me alone
It left me crying behind the door
It left me bleeding on the bathroom floor
It left me wishing I had never lived
It left me screaming into my pillow in pain with sadness
It left me walking aimlessly at night with tears crawling down my face
It left me with the words 'I give up' floating above my head
It left me imagining what death would taste like
It left me cold, scared, hopeless, alone
It left...
poem by Mariam Abdelghani
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In the theater, characters have to cut the umbilical cord from the writer and talk in their own voices.
quote by Irwin Shaw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Umbilical Cord Reminds
No umbilical cord connection
Between my siblings and me
Or between my father and me.
I can't stand against my mother.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Precious Moments
Looking across the timeless ebbies
that stretches as far as our lives have travelled
searching for precious moments
that were left behind
and now lie hidden in our memories.
Those times when life propelled itself
in spurts of our endeavours,
but always left some precious moments
behind out of our lives.
Like Icarus, we flew too high
for our own self-importance
leaving behind a yearning
for something we had,
but foolishly left so far behind.
Now to relive them
we search the four corners
and hidden crevices of our memory
where broken loves fell.
We want again to dream
of those days of our splendour
and our mistakes in love
that has left a forever yearning
for the things we will never have.
The precious moments that lay scattered
somewhere in the hidden corners
of our distant memories
near the seas of tranquillity.
20 September 2011
poem by David Harris
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Life can be so surreal
When he first clapped eyes on her
you could have heard the clapping
in the next ballroom.
Then his eyes danced.
They disengaged themselves gracefully
as from a group of friends,
cut and coiled their stalks
as if some umbilical cord,
and danced.
They danced at eye-height, which seemed
appropriate, considering;
you'd have thought they'd danced together
all their lives, they danced so well together.
They danced the quickstep first, then
the foxtrot; then a sparkling jive. At
the end, they bowed to her, respectfully,
yet in a way as if they knew the score,
had an eye or two to the future.
Then, quite simply, they returned,
picked up where they had left off.
No hint of what had gone on, except perhaps
a whiter shade of white around their irises,
and still clearly lit up from their first fill of her;
for she was, we all agreed, an eyeful.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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