How Soon Is Now
I am the son,
and, the heir.
Of a shyness that was criminally vulgar.
Son, and heir.
Of nothing in particular.
Oh, shut your mouth.
How can you say,
I go about things the wrong way?
Im human and I need to be loved,
like everyone,
like everyone does.
I am the son,
and, the heir.
Of a shyness that was criminally vulgar.
Son, and heir.
Of nothing in particular.
Of nothing in particular at all.
And you say its gonna happen now.
When exactly do you mean?
Ive already waited to long,
and all my hope is gone.
Theres a club if youd like to go.
You might meet someone,
who really loves you.
So you go on your own,
and leave on your own,
and you go home,
and you cry and you wanna die
song performed by by Quicksand
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
How Soon Is Now?
I am the son, I am the heir
Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar
I am the son and heir of nothing in particular
You shut your mouth, how can you say
I go about things the wrong way
I am human and I need to be loved
Just like everybody else does
I am the son, I am the heir
Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar
Im the son and heir of nothing in particular
Chorus
There is a club if youd like to go
You could meet someone who really loves you
So you go and you stand on your own
And you leave on your own
And you go home and you cry and you want to die
song performed by by Everclear
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Soon Is Now?
I am the son and the heir
Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar
I am the son and heir
Of nothing in particular
You shut your mouth
How dare you say
I go about things the wrong way
I am human and I need to be loved
Just like everybody else does
I am the son and the heir
Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar
I am the son and heir
Of nothing in particular
You shut your mouth
How dare you say
I go about things the wrong way
I am human and I need to be loved
Just like everybody else does
Theres a club if youd like to go you
Could meet somebody who really loves you
So you go, and you stand on your own and
You leave on your own and you go home,
And you cry and you want to die.
When you say its gonna happen now,
When exactly do you mean? see Ive already
Waited too long and all my hope is gone
You shut your mouth
How dare you say
I go about things the wrong way
I am human and I need to be loved
Just like everybody else does
song performed by by Tatu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Soon Is Now ?
I am the son
And the heir
Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar
I am the son and heir
Of nothing in particular
You shut your mouth
How can you say
I go about things the wrong way ?
I am human and i need to be loved
Just like everybody else does
I am the son
And the heir
Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar
I am the son and heir
Oh, of nothing in particular
You shut your mouth
How can you say
I go about things the wrong way ?
I am human and i need to be loved
Just like everybody else does
Oh ...
Oh ...
There's a club, if you'd like to go
You could meet somebody who really loves you
So you go, and you stand on your own
And you leave on your own
And you go home, and you cry
And you want to die
When you say it's gonna happen "now"
Well, when exactly do you mean ?
See, i've already waited too long
And all my hope is gone
Oh ...
Oh ...
You shut your mouth
How can you say
I go about things the wrong way ?
I am human and i need to be loved
Just like everybody else does
Ok ?
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heir Apparent
I came back to my old city
With fierce determination
And I couldnt find my way out of the station
Its all changed
You were there
Departing, starting
A trek I had once took
With that no-ones gonna stop me when I feel this way look
Apparent, apparent
Heir apparent
You think its so easy, I tell you - it isnt
But you may change minds with your winning smile
I fell down in my old city
Such sad degradation
So I tried to make my way back to the station
You were still there
Gleaming and leaving
Wide-eyed and awestruck
Saying how can anybody hate me
If I love them first off ?
Apparent, apparent
Heir apparent
You think its so easy, I tell you - it isnt
But you may change minds with your winning smile
Heir, heir, heir
Heir, heir, heir
Heir, heir, heir
Heir, heir, heir
But you may be ok, I dont know
Ill see you back here
In a few bruised years
Pray
Ill see you here
Ill see you here
Ill see you here
Apparent, apparent
Heir apparent
You say that you want it, Im sure that youll get it
Theyll seduce your heart and then theyll slap your arse
Heir, heir, heir
Heir, heir, heir
Heir, heir, heir
Heir, heir, heir
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grandpa's Wish
Oh I wonder when you wished your wish,
On behalf of your name's sake.
That a child would come and carry on,
Your name that follows Jake.
Oh patriarch you fathered a son,
And so heir one came to be.
Son heir one fathered him a son,
And heir two made Anderson three.
Oh I wonder when you wished your wish,
For another son to be bore.
To preserve the name you proudly bare,
With generations of men times four.
Only God thus knows if such a day comes,
When our name will cease to be.
But for now your legacy doth carry on;
Wish granted! Come see heir number three.
poem by Joseph M Anderson
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The Heir
The yoke of bandage and the children of the desolate,
Cast out the bonbwoman and her son!
For the children of she who has a husband will,
Have a son as the heir on the thrown! !
The south wind blew like the seed of the chosen one,
And i hope to see you soon by my kinsmen;
But do rescue the free woman as the sign of hope.
Of the danger met at sea and of the armour of light!
Peace is the mind at rest as compared to a wide open mouth;
For the farmer ought to sow in hope.
Asia, Bithyna, the Metropolis and the Adriatic Sea!
You are puffed up with pride without the heir;
But the farmer ought to sow in hope.
Man came from the clay and woman came from man,
But the heir is already noted among the children of women;
And the day comes when the bloom of your flowers will be exposed.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A muse on the past and future
Many who loved me are dead.
Many who I loved are dead.
Some who were dear and some
Who held me dear, elsewhere had gone.
I am pretty old, up with regrets.
I have an heir, who has no heir.
Who will leave first, wife or I?
How will the other digest that?
The connection made, collection stored,
And the recollection, what will happen to?
What is in store to suffer?
How safe I’ll die is the threat.
How horrible it’ll be is the threat.
A game is over; the mirth is over.
A hell or a heaven is the end.
Heaven and hell are same
As the liberated soul has no sense.
13.03.2001, Pmdi.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I'm the heir apparent to the heir presumptive.
quote by Princess Margaret
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Today... 'Heir of all things
To Him everything shall be given
Things on earth and things in heaven.
The Son is the rightful heir of all things
He is the Lord of lords and King of kings.
For God has spoken to us in these last days
and throughout the universe displays
in majestic splendour His power and might
so that all men may behold the wondrous sight
and know that the Christ of whom angels sing
is the One and Only Heir of Everything.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
The King Must Marry
I just know that there is something sweet out there,
And i am sure you are the one for me;
The King must marry inorder to produce the heir.
The love of cultural upheavals to a game,
Like the ardent exponent;
But, who is ready to marry the King?
A frenetic development,
Of the lethal product of an act to gain;
A prime love to see is on this game where,
The King must surely marry to produce the heir.
The act of primitive power,
The King must marry;
Like the reconnection of an act with a golden touch.
Act, love, recommendations;
The King has to marry in order to produce an heir.
A golden move,
A golden love,
Battling the words out of his mouth to marry;
The heir is what matters so,
He cannot bawl private matters through a looked door.
Battling navigations,
Battling love,
Battling words to look for a lover;
You may laugh mirthlessly but,
He is not bidding for a prime cow.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Heir
My father is my father
I am his heir
I am in my father's house
I am fair.
My father is my father
And I am in full power.
My father is my father
I am his heir
I am not as mad as a hare
I like peace and
I do not like war.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Son And Heir
A cute-faced cheetah cub rests there,
Oblivious and frail,
He's now a precious son and heir,
A firstborn fragile male...
Just skin and bones and not much more,
Yet as each year goes by,
He'll run so fast upon each paw
You'll think that he can fly!
He'll pick his moments just like those
That race across this land
And sometimes rest as if to pose,
As if to make a stand...
As if to say, he's learnt enough,
He needs no teacher now,
For he's been taught by hate and love
And all the fates allow...
So watch out, world! He bides his time,
One day, he'll rule supreme,
One day, the tallest trees he'll climb,
Though now that's just a dream...
This son and heir will do his best
And not just to survive,
He'll do it just because he's blessed,
To prosper and to thrive...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2012.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Son And Heir'.
More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Gentilesse
The firste stok, fader of gentilesse --
What man that desireth gentil for to be
Must folowe his trace, and alle his wittes dresse
Vertu to love and vyces for to flee.
For unto vertu longeth dignitee
And noght the revers, saufly dar I deme,
Al were he mytre, croune, or diademe.
This firste stok was ful of rightwisnesse,
Trewe of his word, sobre, pitous, and free,
Clene of his gost, and loved besinesse,
Ayeinst the vyce of slouthe, in honestee;
And, but his heir love vertu as dide he,
He is noght gentil, thogh he riche seme,
Al were he mytre, croune, or diademe.
Vyce may wel be heir to old richesse,
But ther may no man, as men may wel see,
Bequethe his heir his vertuous noblesse
(That is appropred unto no degree
But to the firste fader in magestee,
That maketh hem his heyres that him queme),
poem by Geoffrey Chaucer
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A Ballad of Gentleness
The firste stock-father of gentleness,
What man desireth gentle for to be,
Must follow his trace, and all his wittes dress,
Virtue to love, and vices for to flee;
For unto virtue longeth dignity,
And not the reverse, safely dare I deem,
All wear he mitre, crown, or diademe.
This firste stock was full of righteousness,
True of his word, sober, pious, and free,
Clean of his ghost, and loved business,
Against the vice of sloth, in honesty;
And, but his heir love virtue as did he,
He is not gentle, though he riche seem,
All wear he mitre, crown, or diademe.
Vice may well be heir to old richess,
But there may no man, as men may well see,
Bequeath his heir his virtuous nobless;
That is appropried to no degree,
But to the first Father in majesty,
Which makes his heire him that doth him queme,
All wear he mitre, crown, or diademe.
poem by Geoffrey Chaucer
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Vulgar Before Me
To you. seperation, only to put it down.
To you. desperation, only to be around.
So on and so under, misdirected in other words.
Always I wonder is there anything I can do for you?
Anything I can do? well I can do anything...
To some, Ive been singled out, always I take your fall.
To some, same and broken down,
All weve left is dropping around you.
And you know these lines theyre open ended.
These books were meant to be followed,
And your rules left to be read...
Is there anything I can do?
I can do anything. i can do anything,
Its vulgar before me...
Is there anything I can do?
I can do anything. I can do anything.
Its vulgar before me, vulgar before me...
Vulgar before me, vulgar before me.
Vulgar, vulgar before me.
Anything I can do?
I can do anything. I can do anything.
Vulgar before me, vulgar before me...
song performed by by Candlebox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Suicide's Stone
Peace is the heir of dead desire,
Whether abundance killed the cormorant
In a happy hour, or sleep or death
Drowned him deep in dreamy waters,
Peace is the ashes of that fire,
The heir of that king, the inn of that journey.
This last and best and goal: we dead
Hold it so tight you are envious of us
And fear under sunk lids contempt.
Death-day greetings are the sweetest.
Let trumpets roar when a man dies
And rockets fly up, he has found his fortune.
Yet hungering long and pitiably
That way, you shall not reach a finger
To pluck it unripe and before dark
Creep to cover: life broke ten whipstocks
Over my back, broke faith, stole hope,
Before I denounced the covenant of courage.
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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I started studying shyness in adults in 1972. Shyness operates at so many different levels. Out of that research came the Stanford shyness clinic in 1977.
quote by Philip Zimbardo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode To Pandalam Prince
On the bank of Pampa river
Wails of a babe, heard Pandalam king Rajasekhar
Found You o' divine child with splendour
God's mercy to his fervent prayer
Rajasekhar accepted You to his throne, an heir
Saranam Ayyappa, saranam Ayyappa
Beads collared You are manikhanta; per
Mythology son of Hari and Har
Human but God yet given all academic lore
Grew well versed to be the king's saviour
To Your divine wisdom super
Saranam Ayyappa, saranam Ayyappa
Their own son the queen bore
For the king Manikhanta the son elder
Fate, innocent queen became bitter
Conspired with the currupt minister
Wanted her son to be the heir
Saranam Ayyappa, saranam Ayyappa
Fell sick, a fake stomach-ache, plotted a slaughter
Royal physician turned an accomplice there
Cunningly prescribed leopord's milk for her cure
Never did Ayyappa, You fear
Marched into the threatening woods afar
Saranam Ayyappa, saranam Ayyappa
You could simply hunt a leopord, Your vigour
Fetch its milk to Your mother, Your valour
A divine child of bold endeavour
Suited to be a warrior, king's heir
So do we wonder and utter
Saranam Ayyappa, saranam Ayyappa
Despite the protestations of Your foster-father
Bon expedition of Your bravery, Your lustre
Came with leopord and cubs Your venture
Into the Sabari hills did You though disappear
Devotees still hope You'll again appear
Saranam Ayyappa, saranam Ayyappa.
poem by Indira Renganathan
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All That I Owe the Fellows of the Grave
All that I owe the fellows of the grave
And all the dead bequeathed from pale estates
Lies in the fortuned bone, the flask of blood,
Like senna stirs along the ravaged roots.
O all I owe is all the flesh inherits,
My fathers' loves that pull upon my nerves,
My sisters tears that sing upon my head
My brothers' blood that salts my open wounds
Heir to the scalding veins that hold love's drop,
My fallen filled, that had the hint of death,
Heir to the telling senses that alone
Acquaint the flesh with a remembered itch,
I round this heritage as rounds the sun
His winy sky, and , as the candles moon,
Cast light upon my weather. I am heir
To women who have twisted their last smile,
To children who were suckled on a plague,
To young adorers dying on a kiss.
All such disease I doctor in my blood,
And all such love's a shrub sown in the breath.
Then look, my eyes, upon this bonehead fortune
And browse upon the postures of the dead;
All night and day I eye the ragged globe
Through periscopes rightsighted from the grave;
All night and day I wander in these same
Wax clothes that wax upon the ageing ribs;
All night my fortune slumbers in its sheet.
Then look, my heart, upon the scarlet trove,
And look, my grain, upon the falling wheat;
All night my fortune slumbers in its sheet.
poem by Dylan Thomas
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Blossom enough
It is her sheer shyness that drew me to her.
It is for her very shyness that I loved her.
The shyness put her lust in store and seal.
To boil the lust and break the seal is my zeal.
We study in a class year after year without a pass.
Over the lesson, neither of us got bored.
In repetition of same emotional exchanges
Without any advance, neither of us abhorred.
Yes, blossom has only fragrance, not seeding.
18.12.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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