En.Citatepedia^®.ro

First Encounter - Sylvia Chang

twin pity

the way sylvia Chang looks at
the less than pretty journalist
which makes her so conscious of
her less than favourable endowments

a pity for the star for making me
feel she places looks on
so high a pedestal

a pity for the journalist for having
to carry out her work feeling an inadequacy
she has really no control over

That was more than 20 years ago in my first interview with the legendary Taiwanese actress Sylvia Chan at the then Merlin Hotel, now the Concorde. The young female reporter was one of those you would label as 'not pretty'. And that became more obvious when she was right in front of an actress known around half the world. There was so much that went on that made me feel bad more about Sylvia than the poor reporter.

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sylvia

(words & music by g. stephens - l. reed)
These long lonely evenings
Here I am on the phone
Wondering if she will call
She said she would write me
cause she knows Im alone
But I hear nothing at all
Im waiting for a word of love from sylvia.
You think shed never heard of love my sylvia,
But when Im with her lord, I forgive her
cause shes more than the whole world to me
Theres nothing like a word of love from sylvia
The only one Im thinking of is sylvia
Feeling so sad now, Ill be so glad now
If I just had my sylvia with me
That old weepin willow
Seems to whisper her name
Why did she go away
The tears on my pillow
Theyre not hard to explain
Theres nothing else I can say
Im waiting for a word of love from sylvia.
You think shed never heard of love my sylvia,
But when Im with her lord, I forgive her
cause shes more than the whole world to me
Theres nothing in the world like sylvia
The only one Im thinking of is sylvia
Feeling so sad now, Ill be so glad now
If I just had my sylvia with me

song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That Pity B-Gone!

Let that pity b-gone!
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone.
And also going are those benefits.
If you carry on...
Like you can't handle it!

Let that pity b-gone!
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone.
And also going are those benefits.
If you carry on...
Like you can't handle it!

We knew that pity had to split!
B-gone.
We knew that our hearts would split, and soon...
B-gone.
If we let that pity sit,
Between us....
Both of us would have a fit.
If we let that pity sit,
Both of us would have a fit.
If we let that pity sit...
Between us!

And...
You'd believe,
That I could never love you.
To leave me feeling sorry,
And blue.

But...
I would know,
How deep inside my love goes.
And protecting what I love,
Before it overflows.

Let that pity b-gone!
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone.
And also going are those benefits.
If you carry on...
Like you can't handle it!

So...
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone.
And maybe not so much the benefits.
Since I would miss too much your many moods.

That pity b-gone.
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone.
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone.
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone.
No more from me you get pity.
That pity b-gone!
You indulged and had to rid of it.
That pity b-gone!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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His Sweetheart

Sylvia's lattices were dark­
Roses made them narrow.
In the dawn there came a Spark,
Armèd with an arrow:
Blithe he burst by dewy spray,
Winged by bud and blossom,
All undaunted urged his way
Straight to Sylvia's bosom.
'Sylvia! Sylvia! Sylvia!' he
Like a bee kept humming,
'Wake, my sweeting; waken thee,
For thy Soldier's coming!'
Sylvia sleeping in the dawn,
Dreams that Cupid's trill is
Roses singing on the lawn,
Courting crested lilies.
Sylvia smiles and Sylvia sleeps,
Sylvia weeps and slumbers;
Cupid to her pink ear creeps,
Pipes his pretty numbers.
Sylvia dreams that bugles play,
Hears a martial drumming;
Sylvia springs to meet the day
With her Soldier coming.

Happy Sylvia, on thee wait
All the gracious graces!
Venus mild her cestus plait
Round thy lawns and laces!
Flora fling a flower most fair,
Hope a rainbow lend thee!
All the nymphs to Cupid dear
On this day befriend thee!
'Sylvia! Sylvia! Sylvia!' hear
How he keeps a-humming,
Laughing in her jewelled ear,
'Sweet, thy Soldier's coming!'

poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
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Sylvia

Whoa, oh, oh, yeah
Mmm, hmm sylvia
You know youre getting to me now
Mmm, mmm, mmm, sylvia
You gently touched my heart somehow
Yesterday you made me happy as a child at play
Just like the summer sun that warms my heart
And move on, now you are gone
Whoa, oh, oh, sylvia
Youre everything that I adore
That sweet song, that caught a spark in me more
Tenderly thats how you whisper that you loved me
As if a raindrop kissed my ear and disappeared, now you are gone
Oh, oh, oh, yeah
You know I love my little sylvia
Whoa, oh, oh, yeah
And yesterday I feel in love with you all the way
Tenderly you lit a spark in my heart, now you are gone
Mmm, hmm, sylvia
I gently miss sylvia
Im crazy bout ya, sylvia
You know I love my little sylvia

song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pity...

I have only pity for my
poodle name Pretpret
(ditty for Pretty)

It is always following me
wherever i go
and sit beside my feet
so i can feel the warmth
of its belly

It is expecting me to go
for a walk this morning
and it will be beside me
guarding

But i am not taking my walk
today

I still have to organize my thoughts
and write some poems

I pity the sun
Now it is shining without me

I pity the paths
for it is empty without me

I pity the grass
they spread their beautiful green
without me

Don't you understand what pity means?

Oh, it happens
when we are not with them
because we prefer to be with words
juggling with the letters
playing with the sounds of syllables...

Now, i am going out
What pity does i feel for all the words?

I must pity the study room
for it is now empty

I must pity the books
they are now closed

I must pity the stairs
missing the sounds of my footsteps

and so on and so forth

feel it
the world is such a pitiful emptiness
without us

we can be noise and disturbance
sometimes
but the world knows
we are important
for without us
the world is nothing too
but God's useless
creation....

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sylvia's Mother

Sylvia's mother says Sylvia's busy,
too busy to come to the phone .
Sylvia's mother says Sylvia's trying
to start a new life of her own.
Sylvia's mother says 'Sylvia's happy...
So why don't you leave her alone?'

And the operator says
'Forty cents more, for the next three minutes.'
Please Mrs. Avery, I've just got to talk to her
I'll only keep her a while
Please Mrs. Avery, just want to tell her
Goodbye !

Sylvia's mother says Sylvia's packing,
she's gonna be leaving today.
Sylvia's mother says Sylvia's marrying
a fellah down Galveston way .
Sylvia's mother says 'Please don't say nothing
to make her start crying and stay.'

And the operator says
'Forty cents more, for the next three minutes.'
Please Mrs. Avery, I've just got to talk to her
I'll only keep her a while
Please Mrs. Avery, just want to tell her
Goodbye !

Sylvia's mother says Sylvia's hurrying,
she's catching the nine'o'clock train.
Sylvia's mother says:'Take your umbrella,
cause Sylvie it's starting to rain.'
And Sylvia's mother says 'Thank you for calling
and Sir won't you come back again ?'

And the operator says
'Forty cents more, for the next three minutes.'
Please Mrs. Avery, I've just got to talk to her
I'll only keep her a while
Please Mrs. Avery, just want to tell her
Goodbye !

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Sad to see him go

Its sad to see him go,
Go away to nothingness,
He made me feel pity for me,
Myself pity,
Pity that I should not feel for him,
He made me so mad that I should not feel sorry for him,
He comes and goes as he pleases in my life,
He made me feel as if I did not exist to him,
He should feel sorry for me cause I went through a lot ever since he left me with this broken heart,
Sad to see him go,
Its my fault that I didn’t try hard enough to be there for him yet he was never there for me in began with,
I have the rights to be anger with him,
He made me feel like I was losing my mind,
Sad to say that I do declare I have somewhat feel pity for him,
Yet so sad to see him go.

poem by Jennifer Rondeau
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Heavenly Arms

Heavenly arms reach out to hold me
Heavenly arms entice you to dance
In a world of ill will, the dancers are still
Heavenly arms reach out to me
Heavenly arms soft as a love song
Heavenly arms bring a kiss to your ear
In a world that seems mad, all the dancers seem sad
Heavenly arms reach out to me
Sylvia
Sylvia
Sylvia
Sylvia
Heavenly arms come to my rescue
Only a woman can love a man
In a world full of hate, love should never wait
Heavenly arms reach out to me
Heavenly arms strong as a sunset
Heavenly arms pure as the rain
Lovers stand warned of the worlds impending storm
Heavenly arms reach out to me
Sylvia
Sylvia
Sylvia
Sylvia
Ohhh-wohhh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Ooohhh-ooohhh-ooohhh-ooohhh-ooohhh, oh-woh-woh
Ooohhh-ooohhh-ooohhh-ooohhh, ohh-woh-woh
(heavenly arms reach out to hold me)
(sylvia, you mean so much to me)
(heavenly arms reach out to hold me)
(sylvia, you mean so much to me)
(heavenly arms reach out to hold me)
(sylvia, you mean so much to me)
(heavenly arms reach out to hold me)

song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pity, pity, pity

Look at to the unwanted child
Look at to the divorced wife
Look at to the homeless man
What people do other than saying
“Pity, pity, pity”

Look at to the tragic hero
Look at to the sympathized villain
Look at to the clueless victim
What witnesses do other than staring
“Pity, pity, pity”

Look at to the crazy dreamer
Look at to the unlucky gambler
Look at to the stubborn fighter
What friends do other than whispering
“Pity, pity, pity”

Look at to the withering flower
Look at to the starving animal
Look at to the extinct nature
What human do other than howling
“Pity, pity, pity”

Look at to the empty spaces
Look at to the blank faces
Look at to the lost traces
What devils do other than laughing
“Pity, pity, pity”

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Don’t Pity Me

I can stand on my own two feet
Spare me the reminder that I came from those lonely streets
Which made me cold as I grew old
Don’t pity me, no don’t pity me at all
I did what was necessary to survive
Build my dreams on hard concrete
Fed myself dust until I couldn’t eat
Why pity me, why pity me at all
Now that I am full, I can use the energy
To do what you could have done
Saved me instead of feeling sorry
Because you pity me, and you pity me until I was no more
So the next time you look down and see me
Remember this, it could have been you not me.

poem by Landsley Alexandre
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Putting Pity Properly Propped

How pitiful can a declared pity get?
Some can do pity proud...
By having pity dipped and bronzed.
And accessorized with torment.
With a highlighting of pity in rhinestone...
To give focus with meaning and intention meant.

Capturing a pity purposely posing in a moldedness...
And an importance that could be set on mantels.
Thusly and/or thence...
Putting pity properly propped,
On top and placed upon such a pedestal.
Where pitifulness praised like this can sit!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Gone Fishing

Sylvia searched the whole house over
Calling out her lover's name...
He was not there, oh no ~ oh no,
He was hooked on the fishing game.

Down to the water he had gone,
Whether the sport was right or wrong!
The river was his hideaway,
So peaceful, on a warm summer's day.

Sweet Sylvia disliked the hobby,
Thought the fish could feel the pain.
She saw them struggle for their freedom
But Sylvia would never complain.

Now to wait three hours, or more.
Until that key turned in the door,
And he would greet his Sylvia dear
All laden down with his fishing gear.

And tomorrow morning may well be the same
'cause he was hooked on the fishing game.

poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Sylvia Plath

I wish I had a sylvia plath
Busted tooth and a smile
And cigarette ashes in her drink
The kind that goes out and then sleeps for a week
The kind that goes out on her
To give me a reason, for well, I dunno
And maybe shed take me to france
Or maybe to spain and shed ask me to dance
In a mansion on the top of a hill
Shed ash on the carpets
And slip me a pill
Then shed get pretty loaded on gin
And maybe shed give me a bath
How I wish I had a sylvia plath
And she and I would sleep on a boat
And swim in the sea without clothes
With rain falling fast on the sea
While she was swimming away, shed be winking at me
Telling me it would all be okay
Out on the horizon and fading away
And Id swim to the boat and Id laugh
I gotta get me a sylvia plath
And maybe shed take me to france
Or maybe to spain and shed ask me to dance
In a mansion on the top of a hill
Shed ash on the carpets
And slip me a pill
Then shed get pretty loaded on gin
And maybe shed give me a bath
How I wish I had a sylvia plath
I wish I had a sylvia plath

song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mr. Reporter

Hey, mr. reporter,
How 'bout talking about yourself?
Do you like what you're doing,
Or is it that you can do nothing else?
Hey, mr. reporter,
I'll believe all that you put down.
I'll believe the sun is going up,
Even though it's going down.
Hey, mr. reporter,
Don't you twist my words around.
I'll kill you, i won't let you,
Distort my simple sound.
Hey, mr. reporter,
How 'bout talking about yourself?
Do you like what you're doing,
Or is it that you can do nothing else?
Hey, mr. reporter,
How 'bout talking about yourself?
Do you like what you're doing,
Or is it that you can do nothing else?
Did your daddy stop you playing
With your friends when you were young?
And is that why you run down
All the young folks have their fun. [?]
The reason i am stupid,
Is because i read you every day.
You misquote all of the true things
Because they rub you the wrong way.
Hey, mr. reporter,
How 'bout talking about yourself?
Do you like what you're doing,
Or is it that you can do nothing else?

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After Reading Sylvia Plath's Riddle In Nine Syllables

sylvia, the elephant is inside your
tummy, you have become a melon growing and crawling in tendrils
a ponderous house
a red fruit
you have eaten a bag of green apples
and rode a train without stopping
to an exit

sylvia, i may not understand the nine syllables
inside you
for i am a man without
these syllables

sylvia i put two syllables somewhere
and it grows into three just three

there was bleeding and i saw it
i took her to the hospital and she was put into a sleep
and she was finally made to appear
clean to me

she was numb and speechless to the window panes
there was frost
and there was that bird which flew away since then
from her forehead

now, sylvia look at me
i was the man who only had three syllables

look at me in this sentence
i am a comma, i am a period.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shakespeare And Sylvia

Shakespeare awoke as
the world was sleeping
and wrote a sonnet for
Sylvia, his 'sweeting',
desperately hoping she'd
be his queen, in the beautiful
Isle of evergreen.

Sylvia was a Goddess fair
She captured his mind like
a sacred prayer.
But of her feelings he was
unsure, and could suffer
the doubt no more.

Now Shakespeare was a
sound young man, eager to
know her plan ~ so he posed
the question, asked for her hand:
Would Sylvia always be
his 'holy fair and wise' young Lady
of this bounteous land?

poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Actress

Some day I'm going to grow up
And be every man's dream
Some day I'm going to grow up
And forget this sad little me
I'm going to shine in the spotlight
Wear sexy clothes
Be somebody everybody wants to meet
And no one ever really knows
No one will ever know me
I'm an actress through and through
And to my bones
I'm an actress through and through
And to my bones
Critics will adore me
At least they will at first
But you see I already know this
So it can't never really hurt
And if it does, I'm an actress
I'll play it nonchalant
In the total scheme of things it's insignificant
(sure I can take the knocks)
Cause I'm an actress through and through
And to my bones
I'm an actress through and through
And to my bones
I may not be that pretty now
But who's the referee
Standards of beauty
Will be redefined because of me
And then they'll be the scandals
Everywhere my name
Men will jump from balconies
And I'll just shrug and take the blame
(yeah, they'll say I died for love)
Cause I'm an actress through and through
And to my bones
Well, I'm an actress through and through
And to my bones
My acceptance speech will be a milestone
Never will such a star
Have ever graced the microphone
And of course I'll thank my agent
The way they always do
Though I could have done it without him
And that goes for the Academy too
And the makeup people and the lighting designers and everybody else
Cause I'm an actress throughand through
And to my bones
I'm an actress through and through
And to my bones
I'm an actress yeah, yeah, yeah
I'll be gracious to the lesser stars
And generous to the unknowns
And if another actress threatens
My position on the throne
Well, I don't know exactly what I'll do
I don't exactly know
But I know that it could turn into
One of my most poignant roles
Everyone will have their handkerchiefs out
And they'll have to leave the theater early
And then they'll go home
And what'll they do?
They'll have a big glass of alcohol
Cause I'm an actress through and through
And to my bones
And if I make it to the top I won't be overthrown
I'm an actress ah, yeah, yeah

song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Get Up Off That Pity Pot

Why don't you,
Get up off that pity pot...
You've sat on quite a lot.
Why don't you get up off that pot.
Why don't you get up off that pot.
Why don't you,
Get up off that pity pot...
You've sat on quite a lot.
Why don't you get up off that pot.
Why don't you get up off that pot.

No need to keep weeping tears,
That long ago overflowed.
Why don't you,
Get up off that pity pot...
You've sat on quite a lot.

Holding onto woes,
Have eroded your motives.
Get up off that pity pot...
You've sat on quite a lot.
So wipe your eyes to dry,
And realize...
You are not alone.
You're not alone.
You are not alone.
You're not alone.
Get up!
Off your butt!

Get up off that pity pot...
You've sat on quite a lot.
Why don't you get up off that pot.
Why don't you get up off that pot.
Why don't you,
Get up off that pity pot...
You've sat on quite a lot.
Why don't you get up off that pot.
Why don't you get up off that pot.
And realize...
You are not alone.
You're not alone.
You are not alone.
You're not alone.
Get up!

Get up off that pity pot...
You've sat on quite a lot.
You need to get up off that pot.
Why don't you get up off that pot.
Why don't you,
Get up off that pity pot...
You've sat on quite a lot.
You need to get up off that pot.
Why don't you get up off that pot,
And stop those woes to drop.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Think Again!

When you hold your head up high
I see it in your eyes
You want to say goodbye

Your ego persuades you to
embark on this smoky trip
If only you know how I feel
Your selfishness I spelt
While the ice awaits to melt
Be careful you might slip
They shall all weep

Why wash away on me now
Tears of sorrow
When there is always tomorrow

Narrow roads
Wrong paths
Why take away
What’s not yours

Think again
While it rains
Think again
You can still control your brain
from going completely insane

Think again about a white dove
Think again about all the love
That is still out there
Waiting to be showered on you
I truly care

Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi

poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With A Pity That You Want

With a pity that you want,
To prove it.
With a pity that you want.

And with a pity that you want,
To prove it.
With a pity that you want.

You weep too deep,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
To realize...
A pain you keep.
With a pity that you want,
To prove it.
With a pity that you want.

Other people who have less,
Do their best to not in public bleed.

But...
You're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
Yes you're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.

You weep too deep,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
And your wants are weak.
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.

Other people who have less,
Do their best to not in public bleed.

But...
You're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
Yes you're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.

You're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
Yes you're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.

Other people who have less,
Do their best to not in public bleed.
Oh...
But you're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.
Yes you're one of those,
With a pity that you want to prove it.
With a pity that you want.

With a pity that you want,
To prove it.
With a pity that you want.

And with a pity that you want,
To prove it.
With a pity that you want,
To show you're one of those...
With a pity that you want,
To show exposed.
With a pity that you want,
To be one of those!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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