I used to think that cyberspace was fifty years away. What I thought was fifty years away, was only ten years away. And what I thought was ten years away... it was already here. I just wasn't aware of it yet.
quote by Bruce Sterling
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0009 A palinode
and there was this one
which I was particularly proud of
where I thought I’d caught
just the right pace, then
the change of pace when
the poem goes deeper
and then the perfectly chosen metaphor
with a rallentando
which made it musical
and ended it just
knock-’em-flat
sheer poetry
then last night
I read your poems
for the first time in oh fifty years
and there it was
almost identical and
I realised where I’d got it from
and the part of me that
wasn’t bruised ego wept inwardly without naming any cause
and maybe when I’ve recovered
and demoted my poem in
the collected works of pride
I’ll marvel at the power of poetry even if yours not mine
which can lie low in the mind
for fifty years and not only that
but may well, and here we should be careful
but reflective, respectful even awed,
have subtly infinitesimally but significantly
like some homeopathic almost unquantifiable tincture,
altered my whole life. For fifty years.
now that’s something
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Fifty Years Of Marriage
With dye and hair colouring they cover their gray
Their fifty years of marriage they celebrate today
Through fifty years of marriage they have argued their way
In their love hate relationship one well might say.
Their better days one can say for them are long gone
And they age without grace though time is ticking on
Their children are grand-parents and the years on them show
Since they too are ageing and their fastest pace slow.
Fifty happy years together by some we are told
But others who know them well and with their words more bold
Will tell you they never did see eye to eye
But why they stay together one must wonder why.
They have stayed together for so many years
One can hardly say of them the lovely old dears
Since they both are quite quarrelsome and grumpy as well
Perhaps without quarrels life for them would be hell.
Fifty years together and the same bed they share
Yet even in public places at each other they swear
Such marriages as their's suppose never were rare
They are not the World's only dysfunctional pair.
Today their descendants will celebrate the marriage of their Pop and Gran
And applaud this wonderful woman and man
But the truth of their marriage they will never tell
How they seem to enjoy giving each other hell.
poem by Francis Duggan
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That Fifty Year Old Woman
That fifty year old woman
she is someones mother
that fifty year old woman
she is someones lover
them fifty years of her life
unseen by a cover.
Covered by the leaves
from the autumn trees is the grass
surrounded by blue tape
and nosey people who pretend to pass
a group of actors walk by
they have come from a history class
to make history new
with conversation with questions to ask.
A fifty year old woman
in an autumn so cold
a fifty year old woman
seen dark winter unfold
them fifty years of life
it is all we are told.
The actors, they didn't get any information
they did not get pictures
nothing known about the situation
nothing at all to discuss
fifty years of age is all thats said
on the morning paper on the fifty bus
thats all thats said
a fifty year old woman, shes found dead.
That fifty year old woman
shes not someones mother
that fifty year old woman
how she had no lover
them fifty years of life
unseen by a cover.
That fifty year old woman
she was quoted in the paper today
that fifty year old woman will be gone tomorrow
the writers they will show no sorrow
because its the way things work
as people pass
she no longer lies on grass
shes covered in dirt.
poem by Daniel McCann
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Fifty Marbels
Fifty years of marbeles
Pulled from our jars
One by one
Shared with the love of each other
We've watched as the years melted away
Oh how it seemed like only yesterday
When things were all brand new
Now after these fifty years
Whats left in our jars
Are meant for us to renew
All the good times togather
With all those we met on the way
For when the jars go empty
On to the Lord
We'll spend our days
poem by David Kush
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I Remember
I remember being ten years old
And wondering what I would be?
I talked it over with my father
And he said, “We’ll see.”
I remember being twenty years old
And wondering all about life.
I found myself getting married
And learning to be a wife.
I remember being thirty years old
With 2 sons at my side.
I saw a few strands of gray hair
Which I tried to hide.
I remember being forty-five
And birthdays coming too soon.
I was teaching kids all about music
And waiting for vacations in June.
I remember when I turned fifty
And my body started to change.
The hormonal and emotional challenges
All became so strange.
I remember becoming fifty-eight
When retirement came my way.
I thought to myself, “ Now what do I do? ”
On every single day?
I remember becoming seventy
When breast cancer came to me.
I decided I wanted to live some more
So I created poetry.
All that I remember from that point on
Is where I am today
Using this pen that’s in my hand.
It’s become my way to say
Thank You.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Years 1
For years I let the torment go on
Years I let you get in my head
Years I had to cry myself to sleep
your out now and last night
what you did to me replayed in my head again
I told myself i wasn't going to let it happen but it did
For years I have lived in scared quarters
For years I have looked for your face
For years I have never felt safe
For years I have remembered
poem by Marissa Ford
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Fifty Years On: for Bastille Day 3
It seemed to me the mortal wrong,
the crime that marked her wretched
lay not in anything she did
but what she had neglected
nor could the woes of centuries
be righted by this course
but die she must, for otherwise
she simply was to dangerous.
The tumbril slowly started down
her shoulders shook from view
through the mud the jeering crowd
followed in pursuit
I thought a moment-should I go?
but so much blood had flowed...
I had no special love for blood
and there was work to do.
Long ago that fateful hour-
today is fifty years
since centuries of hate devoured
centuries of fear.
Maybe better, maybe not
than fifty years ago
the world turns now-but I have got
no less of work to do.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Perfect Pitch
I wish someone would accuse me,
Of stealing my creativity from them.
When I've been doing what I do...
For more than 'fifty' years!
Count them...
Not five, ten or twenty!
But FIFTY years.
'That's impossible!
How could that be?
You have 'yet' to leave your fourties! '
Well...er, uh.
You're right!
What am I thinking?
It just 'seems' as if I've been doing this...
For so very long.
At least...
Thirty anyway.
'Tell us the story about how you were breast feeding,
While your mother accompanied you on the piano...
As you sang Ave Maria.'
That was 'not' Ave Maria.
It was the First Noel.
And don't laugh!
I still pride myself for having perfect pitch!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What Are You Doing New Years Eve?
Maybe its much too early in the game
Aah, but I thought Id ask you just the same
What are you doing new years
New years eve?
Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight
When its exactly twelve oclock that night
Welcoming in the new year
New years eve
Maybe Im crazy to suppose
Id ever be the one you chose
Out of a thousand invitations
You received
Aah, but in case I stand one little chance
Here comes the jackpot question in advance:
What are you doing new years
New years eve?
song performed by by Carpenters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Are You Doing New Years Eve?
Maybe its much too early in the game
Aah, but I thought Id ask you just the same
What are you doing new years
New years eve?
Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight
When its exactly twelve oclock that night
Welcoming in the new year
New years eve
Maybe Im crazy to suppose
Id ever be the one you chose
Out of a thousand invitations
You received
Aah, but in case I stand one little chance
Here comes the jackpot question in advance:
What are you doing new years
New years eve?
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Beatles
The Beatles released a record
way back in Nineteen Sixty Two
so it's now been Fifty years
since the Fab Four said Love me Do.
I grew up listening to them
me and my sister thought they were cool
John, Paul, George, and Ringo,
four young lads from Liverpool.
They took us on a Magical Mystery Tour
while Paul sang just Let it Be
we felt sad for all the lonely people
but sang along to Please, Please, Me.
We heard all about a Yellow Submarine
introduced to Sgt.Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band
then taken down a Long and Winding Road
while they shouted I Wanna Hold Your Hand.
I imagined what Strawberry Fields was like
tried to get inside Lady Madonna's head
I wanted to know who this Jude was?
and why the Submarine wasn't Liverpool's Red?
I also tried to picture a sad Eleanor Rigby
even though I knew she wasn't real
but that was what the Beatles did to you
their songs could make you think, wonder, and feel.
So it's been a half a century of music
fifty years since the Beatles came on the scene
but without doubt they are simply the best
the greatest Pop group that has ever been.
poem by Kevin Halls
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Our Times
Our Times
13.7 billion years ago
4.5 billion years ago
3.5 billion years ago
200 thousand years ago
10,000 years ago
5000 years ago
3500 years ago
1800 years ago
500 years ago
50 years ago
One hundred years from now
Five hundred years from now
Ten million years from now
Ten billion years from now
We are where we are now
Where are we now?
Who are we now?
What will we be?
When?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Walking In Your Footsteps
Fifty million years ago
You walked upon the planet so,
Lord of all that you could see
Just a little bit like me
Walking in your footsteps
Hey mr. dinosaur
You really couldnt ask for more
You were gods favourite creature
But you didnt have a future
Walking in your footsteps
Hey mighty brontosaurus
Dont you have a lesson for us
You thought your rule would always last
There were no lessons in your past
You were built three stories high
They say you would not hurt a fly
If we explode the atom bomb
Would they say that we were dumb?
Walking in your footsteps
Fifty million years ago
They walked upon the planet so
They live in a museum
Its the only place youll see um.
Walking in your footsteps....
They say the meek shall inherit the earth....
Walking in your footsteps....
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Suicide
For fifty years,
Cruel, insatiable Old World.
You have punched me over the heart
Till you made me cough blood.
The few paltry things I gathered
You snatched out of my hands.
You have knocked the cup from my thirsty lips.
You have laughed at my hunger of body and soul.
You look at me now and think,
'He is still strong,
There ought to be twenty more years of good punching there.
At the end of that time he will be old and broken,
Not able to strike back,
But cringing and crying for leave
To live a little longer.'
Those twenty, pitiful, extra years
Would please you more than the fifty past,
Would they not, Old World?
Well, I hold them up before your greedy eyes,
And snatch them away as I laugh in your face,
Ha! Ha!
Bang —!
poem by James Weldon Johnson
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It's just as sure a recipe for failure to have the right idea fifty years too soon as five years too late.
quote by J.R. Platt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From here it sounds great to say we'll all get together soon, but all I know is this: you can call me fifty days or fifty years from now and I'll be glad to see you.
quote by Richard Hooker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I feel great. I feel younger. And I don't feel anything at all. I don't know who knows, but right now I'm, how, how many years have I, fifty five, something like that. Forty three years old. And I feel like seventeen, like twenty five years ago.
quote by Olga Korbut
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Tree -Lined Street/ I Walk Down Everyday
THE TREE –LINED STREET / I WALK DOWN EVERYDAY
The tree- lined street
I walk down everyday
Its beauty-
How long has it been this way?
Twenty? Fifty years?
How many years will it remain?
Everything goes away
A hundred years? Two – thousand years?
All is waiting
To go away forever-
And what will become of all this world?
These beauties we have seen?
Another day. Another day.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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In the last fifty years science has advanced more than in the 2,000 previous years and given mankind greater powers over the forces of nature than the ancients ascribed to their gods.
quote by John Boyd Orr
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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People often thought Leopold Auer was Russian because he lived in St. Petersburg so long, almost fifty years.
quote by Gyorgy Ligeti
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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