Woman on the Underground
Nondescript – her clothes say nothing
except perhaps, ‘neatish’; hair – just there..
certainly quiet; not hiding behind a book
or newspaper; nice eyes, though;
she’s nearly your age; maybe more…
and yet – surely, you’ve seen that face
somewhere before?
What an incredible memory we have
for faces – like, the managing director
of some store firm which you’ve never used,
seen profiled once on the business pages
which you never usually read…
You stare discreetly at her, as if
you want her to reveal herself some way –
a sorta condensed silent biodata…
Then it all comes back. Her name?
No that still escapes you..
but it all comes back:
small parts, years ago, on the West End stage;
housemaids; faithful retainer in some famous
Shakespeare with those two stars;
A housekeeper in Ibsen, was it?
The one you missed? Then came TV; her nondescript, not unpleasant but not memorable face, has served her well,
unlike those who always play themselves; she played
a Queen Victoria with an inner dignity,
a fierce integrity barely hinted at, but there;
not one of the famous ones; but unforgettable.
And then - oh, of course - that famous Scottish serial;
she, the caring housekeeper..
And now she’s equal star (un-interviewed;
I guess that’s quite deliberate; a true professional)
of a slightly overplayed, farcical comedy serial
so successful that they put on old repeats
every Christmas and at New Year..
She’s been, in fact, a feature of your viewing life
right through; she inhabits all her roles in such a way
that – you care; as if she were somehow, family..
And now you want to catch her eye; and in some way
(embarrassing - you still can’t remember her name
or all the roles she played…) but in some way
(how can you do this privately in the public underground,
she’d hate you for it..) somehow say
do you know how much pleasure, no,
not only pleasure, offered us an insight
into many inner lives of great and humble human beings..
almost everyone in this carriage has been enriched
by you, did you know that? ..
Maybe, if she leaves first, you’ll catch her eye
as she gets up, and with a ‘meaning’ glance
imply, knew who you were, but respected your
modest anonymity; (how well you play
anonymous Miss Nobody!) - no need to recall your own
most celebrated role, you and I
go further back than that…
or maybe I’ll leave first; but I’ll do the same..
and I left first; as I got up, tried to hypnotise
a glance from her; but no; I did not even figure
way down on the cast-list of this play of the moment..
Then, some fan-letter, perhaps? ‘You won’t know me,
but I was the man who sat opposite you, yesterday, remembering…’
Oh forget it. But what a life a dedicated actor leads -
when they’re in work…not many parts for ageing actresses these days;
bless her, and her nondescript, rich, unforgettable, life-enhancing
brilliance.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Related quotes
Act the Part
I am an actor on this stage of life.
My role is factored into all the scenes
Beginning with an innocent delight.
My birth and babbling lines by any means
Directed all attention to this part.
A ham at birth and cute, I was a star.
The photographs and modeling apart
From some occasional fluffing thus far
I acted many roles that came my way.
Until my public image lost its lure
I found myself without a scene to play
Except the one where life shown me the door
A role I never played in my career
An empty lonely man, alone in tears.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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I’ll Catch You When You Fall
You wanted so much to be a star;
wide eyed you looked at what could be,
so you started on your climb.
Not looking back at the misery,
you were leaving behind.
However, one day when your star should stall,
I will be here to catch you when you fall.
Friends have all told me that
you’ve turned your back on us here,
but I bet when you hear,
some distant train whistle blow
you stop for a moment
and something in your memory will recall,
that I’ll still be here to catch you when you fall.
You have moved on and upwards,
new friends you have by the score,
while your star is burning bright.
But what will happen when it begins to dim,
how many new friends will you have then,
and how many time will they come to call?
I’ll still be here to catch you when you fall.
Everyday I see your face on the TV.
Your false smile seems to have faded a little.
Isn’t the stardom what you thought it was going to be?
So on nights when your pillow is damp with tears.
Do you remember what you left behind,
and do you remember and recall what I said.
I’ll be there to catch you when you fall.
Leaving all your glad rags behind,
you closed the door on your dream.
Wandering aimless around for years,
not sure what you were going to do.
You wrote me a letter and asked if you could call.
I wrote back to you simply saying, come home,
I am still here to catch when you fall.
30 July 2007
poem by David Harris
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William Leary
William Leary is one of the famed Learys of Millstreet a Cork and Duhallow legend of the Gaelic Football game
He played football for Cork and his Club Millstreet and is now in the Duhallow sporting Hall of Fame
He once scored two goals in a Munster Final in Killarney a feat that is still talked of today
In his Gaelic Football career a remembered highlight though many great games the great one did play.
William Leary in his prime a dashing forward one of the great footballers of Millstreet
He proved a headache for opposing defenders with his ball skills he was so quick on his feet
And off of the field of play a successful business person beyond Millstreet known and liked far and wide
To his family and his many friends around Duhallow his many achievements are a sense of pride.
William Leary is now in his early seventies it has been some time since he has played football
One of the great Gaelic Footballers of Millstreet as those who watched him play can well recall
It has been four decades and a few years and that is looking back in time
When he cheered Millstreet hearts with his marvellous ball skills he was a speedy fellow in his prime.
Good to see him with his wife and family on the Millstreet web site on his induction into Duhallow's Hall of Fame
With honour he wore the Cork and Millstreet Jerseys and with honour he carries the famous Leary name
I watched him play when i was a young fellow and that is going back many years ago
He was a dashing forward in his prime years the one who left speedy defenders looking slow.
poem by Francis Duggan
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On Seeing A Photograph
A photo of an ageing face stirs an old memory
He is plainly not a shadow of the man he used to be
His balding head is hoary gray his hair it was dark brown
When we played football as teenagers in the park in our Hometown.
He was a sprightly youth back then two years younger than I
On looking back the decades the years just seemed to fly
He played football worked in the fields and walked miles every day
But like me he seems the worst for wear the years have left us gray.
Perhaps we would be strangers now if by chance we did meet
We might not recognize each other in passing on the street
We age a little every day time of us all takes care
And leaves us looking in the end the very worst for wear.
A photograph of one I knew from many years ago
And he has aged as I have aged time on us all does show
We played football together when we were near to our life's prime
But in the end we all lose out to ageless father time.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Dying Ex Football Champion
Around his bed his friends and family but of them he's not aware
His life's journey about to end old Joe the ex footballer player
On his back his eyes closed to his surroundings the life from him ebbing away
Last month he celebrated his eightieth birthday and today his life's final day.
Pre-deceased by his wife Mel she died five years ago
The last two years of his life's journey for him painful and slow
Most of those he played with and against in his football years to the Reaper long gone
But like the battler that he is to the end he's battling on.
Fifty five years ago the Captain of the great Premiership team
By football fans from near and far he was held in high esteem
But time takes care of everyone and everyone means all
And time has also taken toll of the champion of football.
Around his bed his friends and family a silent vigil keep
The end of his life's journey no more than an hour away he is in his final sleep
'Tis a fact those who love life do find it hard to die
But 'tis also a fact that all human beings are mortals and facts do never lie.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Goin' Back
====================
Queen - Going Back
====================
Words and music by Gerry Goffin and Carole King
I think I'm going back
To the things I learnt so well in my youth
I think I'm returning to
Those days when I was young enough to know the truth
Now there are no games
To only pass the time
No more colouring books
No Christmas bells to chime
But thinking young and growing older is no sin
And I can't play the game of life to win
I can recall a time
When I wasn't ashamed to reach out to a friend
And now I think I've got
A lot more than just my toys to lend
Now there's more to do
Than watch my sailboat glide
And every day can be
My magic carpet ride
And I can play hide and seek with my fears
And live my days instead of counting my years
Then everyone debates
The true reality
I'd rather see the world
The way it used to be
A little bit of freedom's all we lack
So catch me if you can
I'm going back
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You and Me. I laugh. (what you do to yourself)
You are you,
And I am me,
But you came to me,
And my friends,
You came into our arms,
when you were new,
Then you found THEM,
You left us for them,
You went to their side.
I look at you now and I laugh.
Not because your weird,
Or your dumb,
But because of your future.
I am me,
I know where i am in life.
I know my plan for the future,
I know I want to go to college,
And then graduate,
And be successful,
I know I have friends who really care and love me,
I work to get what I want,
I don't wait for it to be given to me,
Or wait to loose the chance of earning it,
Like you.
I don't go out and party all night,
I don't get laid whenever i want,
I don't blow off homework,
Or set it off till later,
I do it then and there,
I get it out of the way,
Then I go out and have fun with my friends,
Yet i do not drink,
I do not get high,
I keep my mind safe,
I save the memories I make,
I don't throw them away.
Like you.
So I do not laugh at your cloths,
I do not laugh at you,
I laugh at your future,
I laugh at your choices and thoughts,
I laugh at your ideas of having fun.
Wasting your mind,
Wasting your life,
Forgetting and loosing your memories,
Wasting your money,
Wasting your friendships,
wasting your time,
This is your fun,
This is your life.
Keeping my mind,
Keeping my life,
Remembering and keeping my memories,
Saving my money,
Cherishing my friendships,
Using my time for friendship family and love,
This is my fun,
This is my life.
I laugh at you.
Someday I will read about in the paper or see you on the news,
I will see a mug shot,
Or hear about your 'untimely' death,
See you on the street,
Steeling from a store,
Or dressed in gold and diamonds that you bought with money you didn't earn,
and I will laugh.
I will be the one with the baby on my hip,
The loving husband by my side,
The home of a modest family,
I good job,
And friends,
I will be the one who is truly happy,
I will be the successful one,
I will be the one who is truly rich,
I will be the one who is free,
Not running from the world,
Or trying to run ahead of it,
I will be the one with the sense of mind,
And modesty,
I will be the one who helps by doing what i can,
Not being who I can't.
I will be the one with a life,
I will be the one who is famous,
Not you.
You dont have to be in the news,
Or have lots of money,
Or know the 'right people',
to be famous,
You may have money,
And the press following you,
But I will be more rich then you,
I will have the life you don't have,
I will have a family who loves me for me,
I will have a job I love and that keeps me going,
I will have true friends who go through anything with me.
I will be rich.
So you come to me and my friends,
Looking for refuge,
Until you find THEM,
Then you leave and through your life away.
And as I pass the path you now walk,
I look and I think of what you're doing,
I think of who you are now,
I think of what you have become,
and I laugh.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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In Toronto A Bday Celebration 2012
Time moved on and in the land of the sand dues
I sing the famous unforgettable that annual tune
Suddenly I see the fifteen year old no longer small
But a very precious handsome young man ever so tall
Far away across the Atlantic he spends this day
And I recapture those moments we then shared every day
His face wears that oh so dynamic boyish smile
His sister gels his hair, grooms to his desired style
The tear streaked face now I do so rarely see
But many a caring words a gentle kiss, comforting me
A pleasure a treasure a sense of contentment
As he spread the rainbow of happiness with less dent
Thank you dear grandson for the sunshine in my life
May your journey be blessed with the best and never a strife
Starry days be yours on this your bday with every sunrise
Near or far you will always my best ever special prize!
Happy Bday...Abdullah Sheriff
poem by Shirani Ibrahim
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An Ageing Gipsy Woman
An ageing woman of no fixed abode
She has travelled down many a road
The lines of life etched on her face
And she is one who ages with grace.
Born into the wandering way of life
And is she a mother and to an ageing Rom a wife
And does her children play music and sing
And dance around the camp-fire in a ring.
All she asks is a small help from you
A gold or silver coin maybe two
Towards her ticket to her next destiny
How far distant from Paris or to where that might be.
The darkness of her eyes and her hair
And the colourful scarf that she wear
A beautiful though ageing Gipsy Rose
She strikes such a classical pose.
One can detect the pride of her race
And the wisdom in her beautiful face
The wisdom the years only bring
To one who should be a Queen for a King.
Discrimination against her she surely has known
But any thoughts of inferiority she has outgrown
So elegant, graceful and proud
She would stand out in any crowd.
The camera of course never lies
It has captured the wisdom in her brown Romany eyes
The great book of life by her read
And of her what more can be said.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Pop Trash Movie
(lebon, rhodes, cucurrullo)
Some close up of your pretty face
Overnight sensation
Smiling, for cameras
From all around the world
If I rewind back to yesterday
And start the tape back
No none knew who you were
But now theyre at your door
Im living in a pop trash movie
We star together in every scene
Well all be famous for just a few minutes
Part of a celluloid dream
Watching, going frame by frame
My blood, my vision
Your life went flashing by
When did it all go wrong
Im living in a pop trash movie
We star together in every scene
Well all be famous for just a few minutes
Part of a celluloid dream
Ill wait in the wings for you
Ill read your lines for you
But now the script is final
You know its time to go
So well have to say goobye
Im living in a pop trash movie
We star together in every scene
Well all be famous for just a few minutes
Part of a celluloid dream
We star in every scene
And its never quite what it seems
Never
Im living in a poptrash movie
We start to make it with that pop trash
Well all be famous for fifteen minutes
Part of a celluoid dream
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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While we are being fascinated by the tales of famous serial killers and how they were brought to justice, the real serial killer goes about his business with hardly a thought to being caught.
Home Away From Home
I walk down the small path
bordered either side by bluebells.
As I walk down the path
which I have done hundreds of times before.
There is a stirring in the trees,
which prompts my memories,
of faces that have come and gone
over the passing years.
Also comes back the laughter
that never seems to subside
and all the jokes
we’ve played on one another.
I smiled as I stopped for a moment
to look around at everything there.
It seems like only yesterday
that I came along here,
but in reality, the years have flown by.
Some faces I remember
will never be coming back to visit,
while the others I might see someday.
Even when the sad day comes
when I can’t come anymore.
I will leave with many photographs
in my memory store.
A few more steps I take
and the town comes into view
along with friendly faces
on the boardwalks there.
There are a few whose names I forget,
but the faces I know so well
in this little town
I call my home away from home.
15 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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Famous Fable
The famous fable,
The famous table,
The famous stable,
The famous cable,
The famous babble,
The famous gable,
The famous parable,
The famous variable
The famous sable;
But, able to crown your love with my muse!
For, you are all that i need.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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John Buckley
John Buckley lived in Mushera upon the higher ground
A quiet and decent person his nickname 'John The Pound'
For the Aubane Gaelic Football Club he played Gaelic Football
Back in the nineteen sixties as I can well recall.
He never harmed anyone lived in the honest way
And respect to his memory his friends and family pay
Perhaps in his early seventies and it does seem sad to say
That with the dead of Millstreet his remains forever lay.
In the famous Aubane colours some great games he did play
Till the years too crept up on him and time does tick away
A strong and sturdy fellow when he was in his prime
But we all do become victims of ageless father time.
He will never be seen on the high Mushera road by Mushera Hill again
But fond memories of the man he was in the minds of those who knew him will remain
One can only hope that from life his was not a painful release
He was a decent person and may he rest in peace.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Private Theatricals
A quite convincing axiom
Is, 'Life is like a play';
For, turning back its pages some
Few dog-eared years away,
I find where I
Committed my
Love-tale--with brackets where to sigh.
I feel an idle interest
To read again the page;
I enter, as a lover dressed,
At twenty years of age,
And play the part
With throbbing heart,
And all an actor's glowing art.
And she who plays my Lady-love
Excels!--Her loving glance
Has power her audience to move--
I am her audience.--
Her acting tact,
To tell the fact,
'Brings down the house' in every act.
And often we defy the curse
Of storms and thunder-showers,
To meet together and rehearse
This little play of ours--
I think, when she
'Makes love' to me,
She kisses very naturally!
. . . . . .
Yes; it's convincing--rather--
That 'Life is like a play':
I am playing 'Heavy Father'
In a 'Screaming Farce' to-day,
That so 'brings down
The house,' I frown,
And fain would 'ring the curtain down.'
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Segregation
I stood beside the silken rope,
Five dollars in my hand,
And waited in my patient hope
To sit anear the Band,
And hear the famous Louie play
The best hot trumpet of today.
And then a waiter loafing near
Says in a nasty tone:
"Old coon, we don't want darkies here,
Beat it before you're thrown."
So knowin' nothin' I could do
I turned to go and--there was Lou.
I think he slapped that Dago's face;
His voice was big an' loud;
An' then he leads me from my place
Through all that tony crowd.
World-famous Louie by the hand
Took me to meet his famous Band.
"Listen, you folks," I heard him say.
"Here's Grand-papa what's come.
Savin' he teached me how to play,
I mighta been a bum.
Come on, Grand-pop, git up an' show
How you kin trumpet Ol' Black Joe."
Tremblin' I played before his Band:
You should have heard the cheers.
Them swell folks gave me such a hand
My cheeks was wet wi' tears . . .
An' now I'm off to tell the wife
The proudest night o' all ma life.
poem by Robert William Service
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0009 Favorite Poem
and you can’t remember much
about the first time you read it except
that it held you to the end, but most of all
this one line, which seemed to hold
the key to the whole poem
as if you were opening the closet of your mind
to bring out something which you knew was there
but instead something way at the back
called to you and you remembered
a moment from way back you thought
you had forgotten
and then you read the poem again
in company with the poet and
yes that’s it, and the two of you
became friends for life, almost
related.
So, now you’ve read all their poems,
feel some more than others but
as if you wrote them all in the same room
where you read them together
and you wait for their new book with
a sorta family pride
and like family,
you leave the poems for a spell,
grow up a little, then
come back to visit -
they mean more;
can it be,
you've both grown?
each time you come back to them
you carry them more close to you
in fact you feel that you could write
poems very much like theirs
as if you’d inherited, too,
the family gift
and though you wouldn’t of course
seek them out in person except
in a reading where you’d
have to share their warmth
with the rest of their extended family
but not say much since
you are a, well, close relative,
if you happened to be driving a route
not far from them, you’d detour,
park a little distance from their house,
but have it in your sight,
hope you might catch a movement,
wait a few minutes, then
start the car with almost a sigh
half relieved that you didn’t have to try
on their cautiously polite doorstep
to find words to say
you love them in their words,
which you almost wrote together,
lived them together;
love them like life itself,
love them
poem by Michael Shepherd
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You are the Producer and Director!
Stars and galaxies,
The meteors, comets and planets,
The sun and moon,
All look silent!
You will be one among these
silent travellers,
You were not active,
The love of Earth,
you were brought on this stage.
Look silence is your own nature,
But the nature made you tour
here,
act, Sing and dance here!
Some day you feel what you
were,
what you are
and what you will be,
Nature sends you to greenroom,
Then only you Remove all robes
and makeups,
Sit and watch nature's play,
which was your own play too,
You were the producer, director and shapes and roles,
You were that,
you were that Truth,
Gave life to all,
You are that Lord of birth, life and death!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Rich And Famous
This is the rags to riches story
Of the insane clown posse
Mancow made us rich and famous
Whole world hate us, mancow played us
Now look at us, platinum status
We owe it all to mancow
I've violent j and i'm rich like rush limbaugh is fat imagine that
First, mancow put us on the air
And everybody jumped on our wagons right there
Mancow's been down with the clown
Since kurt cobain's head was still around
I won't forget how i made my bread
Cause i remember we was like john denver, hehe...dead
Back then i thought i was the bomb
I couldn't even sell a tape to my own mom
I was broke, dinner was grain and rye
Now i sit with chilled faygo in a phat ride
And at shows i sold out nightly
On top of that i think erma likes me
Mickey mouse we ain't goin no place
So bitch get used to my ugly face, c'mon
Shaggs 2 dope and i'm a high school drop out
Convicted felon, i don't mind tellin
You hear my lyrics and you hate my guts
But i got a million bucks and you don't
I don't even make sense when i rap
Bllll skkkee skkkaaa how you like that?
Soon as mancow hit the switch
Next thing you know we got rich, uhh
Mancow made us rich and famous
Whole world hate us, mancow played us
Now look at us, platinum status
We owe it all to mancow
song performed by by Insane Clown Posse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Remember The Good Times
Good times bad times
Bad times good times
We were twisting Chubby Checker style
In a roaring sixties summer night
We walked the moon and we were free
When Jimi played guitar
We shared a dream with Martin Luther King
We saw J.F.K. in West Berlin
When he spoke those famous words that day
Our world was not the same
Remember the good times
Remember the bad times
Remembering my life, your life
Let the film just roll
We were lost in shock, the world was doomed
Nikita hit us with a shoe
We watched the world go upside down
When the Kennedys got shot
We were screaming when the world was fab
We had Rock 'n' Roll invade our hearts
We had Elvis, Janis, Marilyn
And hair, to let it grow
Remember the good times
Remember the bad times
Remembering my life, your life
Let the film just roll
Remember the good times
Remember the bad times
Remembering my life, your life
We're still standing after all
Back in the cold war
Our hearts were warm
Just because sex was free
In the summer of love
Remember the good times
Remember the bad times
Remembering my life, your life
Let the film just roll
Remember the good times
Remember the bad times
Remembering my life, your life
We're still standing after all
Good times bad times
Bad times good times
Im still standing
Let the film just roll
I'm still standing
We're still standing after all
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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