Retirement at sixty-five is ridiculous. When I was sixty-five I still had pimples.
quote by George Burns
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(Get Your Kicks On) Route 66
If you ever plan to motor west
Travel my way, take the highway that's the best
A-get your kicks on Route sixty-six
It winds from Chicago to LA
More than two thousand miles all the way
Get your kicks on Route sixty-six
Now you go through Saint Looey
Joplin, Missouri
And Oklahoma City looks mi-ighty pretty
You'll see Amarillo
Gallup, New Mexico
Flagstaff, Arizona
Don't forget Winona
Kingman, Barstow, San Bernandino
Won't you get hip to this timely tip
When you make that California trip
A-get your kicks on Route sixty-six
Won't you get hip to this ti-imely tip
When you make a-that California trip
A-get your kicks on Route sixty-six
A-get your kicks on Route sixty-six
Get your kicks on Route sixty-six
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sixty - Two
At Sixty – Two I look towards my Future,
At Sixty – Two I look back on my Past,
Good advice was given, but I did not take it,
And now with regrets, downwards I am cast.
Why do we not listen to our Elders?
Why do we think that we know better still?
If we did just acknowledge their wisdom,
We’d live our Life according to HIS Will.
With hindsight I’d be a better person,
A comfortable Life I would now enjoy,
Retirement would be on the Horizon,
With trips to places as far as Hanoi.
But at Sixty – Two my World just fell apart,
One disaster followed the one that came before,
I now must pick up the pieces,
To stop the bailiffs knocking at my door.
I wish I had listened to my Elders,
I wish the right decisions I had made,
But now I know the road ahead isn’t easy,
If in the future I am to make the grade.
© Jonathan Goldman [JGthepoet] - 9 May 2006
poem by Jonathan Goldman a.k.a JGthepoet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Route 66
(word & lyrics by bobby troup)
This lyrics are like performed by natalie cole
If you ever plan to motor west,
Travel my way, take the highway that is best.
Get your kicks on route sixty-six.
It winds from chicago to la,
More than two thousand miles all the way.
Get your kicks on route sixty-six.
Now you go through saint looey
Joplin, missouri,
And oklahoma city is mighty pretty.
You see amarillo,
Gallup, new mexico,
Flagstaff, arizona.
Dont forget winona,
Kingman, barstow, san bernandino.
Wont you get hip to this timely tip:
When you make that california trip
Get your kicks on route sixty-six.
Solo
Wont you get hip to this timely tip:
When you make that california trip
Get your kicks on route sixty-six.
Get your kicks on route sixty-six.
Get your kicks on route sixty-six.
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sexy AT Sixty
I was fit and feisty at fifty
It was no big deal
Because that's how half a century
Is supposed to feel.
In my sixties I'll take stock
Start making new plans
Ignoring all the cant's
Embracing all the can's.
Can I be sexy at sixty?
And try all the fashion and fads
Wear stockings an suspenders
And Joan Collins shoulder pads.
I can deal with sexy at sixty
And wear Vivienne Westwood clothes
Dress up and go out on the town
Wearing all my buttons and bows.
I'm going to be sexy at sixty
I'll wear Gok Wan lingerie
Find myself a toy boy
Then maybe lead him astray.
Swift and sexy at sixty
When I get my Jimmy Choos
Dancing the night away
To the sound of Rhythm and Blues.
Oh! I want to be sexy at sixty
Cause age is a state of mind
I'm preparing my body at keep fit
So as not to be left behind.
But first I have to deal with
Old skin, bad teeth, grey hair
Then remove the unwanted growths
From just about everywhere.
Then! I'll definitely be sexy at sixty
And undoubtedly done it all
The only problem is that most of it
I simply won't recall.
poem by Hazel Connelly
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Six-sixty-six
In the midst of the war
He offered us peace
And he came like a lover
From out of the east
With the face of an angel and the heart of a beast
His intentions were six-sixty-six
He walked up to the temple
With gold in his hands
And he bought off the priests
And propositioned the land
And the world was his harlot
And laid in the sand
While the band played six-sixty-six
We served at his table
And slept on the floor
But he starved us and beat us
And nailed us to the door
Well, Im ready to die
I cant take any more
And Im sick of his lies and his tricks
He told us he loved us
But that was a lie
There was blood in his pockets
And death in his eyes
Well, my number is up
And Im willing to die
If the band will play six
If the band will play six-sixty
If the band will play six-sixty-six
song performed by by Frank Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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69
Flying through the night in a beat up wagon
A mike stand up my jacksy
Give me a beer and Ill stand on a chair
And slip into something sexy
Black cat woolwich, the tigers head
The cafe des artistes, the revolution and the bag o nails
Ill see you down the speak
Your ma said you slept real good in your food last nigth
But you couldnt hold it down
And you broke up a damn good fight
Ligging at the old marquee, spinning jack a line
Even he knew better than me, back in sixty nine
Sixty nine, sixty nine
Sixty nine, sixty nine
On the road to paradiso
Back of your head, got to pay some dues
Rugged looked down as the thames swallowed
His life at the boathouse, kew
Hot girls, no ac, cheap tv, sleep on the floor
Hallelujah whats a roadie, hush my baby sleep no more
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At Sixty
At sixty, one will surely find
There is a very little trace
Of fleeting dreams in aging minds -
What's left is just some empty space.
At sixty, one finds excess time
For sadness and regrets,
For unshed tears were lost in years -
A place gray memories are set.
At sixty, there is little hope
To mend the pained and broken heart,
The failing sight now try to grope
At all the prospects that depart.
At sixty, prayers lost and said
Like ghosts now randomly returning -
Each night, as one there lays in bed
To God his peace he will be making.
'To man belong the plans of the heart,
But from the Lord comes the reply of the tongue.'
Proverbs 16: 1
................................ ................................................. .....................
Copyright Cynthia Buhain-Baello
July 24,2009
Philippines
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Twenty can't be expected to tolerate sixty in all things, and sixty gets bored stiff with twenty's eternal love affairs.
quote by Emily Carr
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dev Anand is no more.
.
Dev Anand, a handsome ever green hero,
Died at eighty-eight, eighteen year senior,
Whom I took my style modal at eighteen.
I had had preserved his photo cuttings.
He looked sixty when he was at forty.
He kept that look intact till his sixty.
He took a look of eighty at sixty
That he kept till now to be ever green.
Dev Anand was sexy without hinting sex.
He was impish without being intense.
A romantic hero, without a scandal,
He was committed to his wife, Kalpana Karthik.
05.12.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Write Yours Now
The 'Journal of Death Studies' for April2004
(maybe you read it? It's in the
hospital library, top shelf
just out of wheelchair reach,
on the shelf labelled 'Reference')
observed that
nonfiction writers tend to die, factually, at sixty-eight;
novelists tie it all up at sixty-six;
playwrights lower the curtain at sixty-three,
and poets close their stanzas at sixty-two.
Well, thanks..
six years - looking on the bright side -
for your favourite biographer to write you up;
four years for novelists to borrow
your untidy life and win the Booker Prize;
a year for playwrights to emulate
the bitter dialogue of your later,
less romantic household years
with less fear of being sued.
Those whom the gods love, die young,
said the optimistic poet
shortly before he died.
for PoHo, who gave me the damn book with the reference in.
And yes, I wondered too..
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Into The Sixth
As a sixty year old
I'm past caring
that I be bold
or that I'm
a sixty year old.
poem by Vince Gullaci
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Hell Spiced
I 'use' to be in the fifth grade.
And I remember junior high.
I remember enlisting into the military.
And that was in nineteen sixty five.
I remember being a father...once!
And experiencing incredible emotional depth!
When I witnessed my son die...
Oh yes!
I remember doing marriage twice.
And knowing what I can and can not do,
After giving it a try.
I've replaced those *I Do's* with *Don'ts*.
Keeping any lieing to myself at a minimum.
And as I approach the age of sixty five,
Only God knows how blessed I feel.
With a gratefulness to be alive.
Although I am told I don't look a day over sixty.
And on my good days...
Fifty nine and a half with a smiling done I can pass.
And...
Each day when I make it my business to pray,
I know there could not have been any other way...
I could say I have survived.
Since God and I only know how it has been,
To experience such a hell spiced ride...
With the opening of my eyes,
Even wider.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The ever green
At twenty,
Many are pretty,
Youth in prime.
At thirty,
They may carry it,
Youth to the brim.
At forty,
Some remain a beauty,
Hormones in spate.
At fifty,
Rarely remains a beauty,
Lust abating.
Close to sixty,
You retain the beauty,
It is a mystery.
You still tempt me
As you did
At my five and twenty
When you were too
At my age
With your lemon colour.
Is it so ‘cause
You’re still sexy,
Or I, still hungry.
At five and sixty,
Sophia Lauren has fans,
Beauty-care to her aid.
You at sixty,
Are a real beauty,
Under nature-care.
You are to me
Miss beauty,
For the consistency.
Ever be green.
Never be brown.
Aley, the queen.
05.11.99[Aleykutty, a colleague]
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Kiwi Dave
For forty five years I've been working and I'm just an unfettered slave
And I have gray hairs to show for it I am quoting Kiwi Dave
Five years to go to retirement I was sixty last birthday
And ever since I've started working it's been uphill all the way.
My ex wife said that I was a drinker that I was too fond of the booze
That was her excuse for leaving she said I was born to lose
But I take it in moderation after work three or four beers
And I've been a slave for her and for my children for close to if not twenty years.
Fifteen years ago she left me and she went to live with younger bloke
She got more than half my assets for years to her haven't spoke
She turned my son and daughter against me and my six grandchildren I don't see
And I will spend my usual Christmas on my own watching T.V.
Kiwi Dave is a good person though just a little soured by life
And things for him would have been better had he had a faithful wife
'A woman she can make or break you' with that who could disagree
Dave could see the truth in those words for who would know better than he? .
For forty five years he's been working the hard worker Kiwi
Dave
And for his ex wife and his children for years he has been a slave
He looks older far than sixty the hard life has made him gray
Five more years left till retirement it's been uphill all the way.
poem by Francis Duggan
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How Many Seconds In A Minute?
How many seconds in a minute?
Sixty, and no more in it.
How many minutes in an hour?
Sixty for sun and shower.
How many hours in a day?
Twenty-four for work and play.
How many days in a week?
Seven both to hear and speak.
How many weeks in a month?
Four, as the swift moon runneth.
How many months in a year?
Twelve the almanack makes clear.
How many years in an age?
One hundred says the sage.
How many ages in time?
No one knows the rhyme.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Going to work for a large company is like getting on a train. Are you going sixty miles an hour or is the train going sixty miles an hour and you're just sitting still?
quote by J. Paul Getty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Going to work for a large company is like getting on a train. Are you going sixty miles an hour or is the train going sixty miles an hour and you're just sitting still
quote by J. Paul Getty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Washerwife
The aged Queen who passed away
Had sixty servants, so they say;
Twice sixty hands her shoes to tie:
Two soapy ones have I.
The old Queen had of beds a score;
A cot have I and ask no more.
For when the last is said and done
One can but die in one.
The old Queen rightly thought that she
Was better than the likes o' me;
And yet I'm glad despite her grace
I am not in her place.
The old Queen's gone and I am here,
To eat my tripe and drink my beer,
Athinkin' as I wash my clothes:
We must have monarchs, I suppose . . .
Well, well,--'Taint no skin off my nose!
poem by Robert William Service
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It is my boon.
I eat less; I sleep less.
Yet I am tireless.
It is my boon.
I lust for, at sixty,
Women sixteen to sixty.
It is my boon.
I have the woman
Half my age in flirtation.
It is my boon.
I send the woman
In her teen to orgasm.
It is my boon.
So I want no heaven
As I lived through heaven.
It is my boon.
21.07.2000, Paralakhemundi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Sixty Four Cents Per Gallon
Sixty four cents.
That's all they pay.
Sixty four cents per gallon of gas.
Maybe decades ago...
We too could say.
But today with our 'greatness'
And propaganda that is spread.
A dozen of apples,
And perhaps the cost of embarrassment...
May be less,
Than the price of a loaf of bread.
That's what they pay,
In Saudia Arabia each and every day!
And 'he' who leads this great land of ours...
Was turned away as he begged,
Those he chose as 'friends'.
And they embraced and shook his hand.
Sending him like an annoying child,
Back to his home to play!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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