The only time you really live fully is from thirty to sixty. The young are slaves to dreams; the old servants of regrets. Only the middle-aged have all their five senses in the keeping of their wits.
quote by Theodore Roosevelt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Only the middle-aged have all their five senses in the keeping of their wits.
quote by Hervey Allen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forever Saying Goodbye
we are forever saying goodbye
goodbye, goodbye, goodbye let me repeat
the child who has grown into a young man
would remain a fond memory, like how we remember
a childhood friend who was always at our side
the young man who has matured into the middle aged
will remember him as someone who have looked
for so many things in thirty years only to get
only some things; a trail of disappointments to
spice up his memory as he bade the young man goodbye
the middle aged suddenly discovers that he
is not as young anymore, his eyes, his legs,
his hair, his stamina have all started to nag to him
that they are not as before, taking duties
promptly and without shortcoming; they have
all taken a turn for the the middle aged
who will soon teach his children happiness is the
best medicine of all and that life should be
focussed on finding that without hurting anyone
the octogenarian takes over the the steps
of the middled age and they have slowed
so much sometimes he cannot even do it
without the help of someone or a stick
the octogenarian who will tell us that a life
of charity is better than one lived alone;
an all important lesson from the silver haired who will
soon bid goodbye to himself, the world and us all
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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There are two barriers that often prevent communication between the young and their elders. The first is middle-aged forgetfulness of the fact that they themselves are no longer young. The second is youthful ignorance of the fact that the middle aged are still alive.
quote by Jessamyn West
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Real Life
Suzanne divorced her husband
She got the keys and the car and the home
But her friends were really his friens
No one stops by to see her much any more
So one night, she goes back down to
The old haunts
That once upon a time were her own
She didnt know nobody out there no
More
And the whole experience just made her
Feel so old
She says
I want to live the real life
I want to life my life close to the bone
Just because im middle-aged that
Dont mean
I want to sit around my house and watch tv
I want the real life
I want to live the real life
Jackson jackson was a good kid
He had four years of college
And a bachelors degree
Started workin, when he was 21
Got fed up and quit
When he was 43
He said, my whole life
Ive done, what I supposed to do
Now id like to maybe do something
For myself
And just as soon, I figure out what
That is
You can bet your live
Im gonna give it hell
He says
I want to live the real life
I want to life my life close to the bone
Just because im middle-aged that
Dont mean
I want to sit around my house and watch tv
I want the real life
I want to live the real life
I guess, it dont matter, how old you
Are
Or how old one lives to be
I guess, it boils down to what we did
With our lives
And how we deal with our own
Destinies
But something happens
When you reach a certain age
Particularly to to those ones, that are
Young at heart
Its a lonely proposition when you
Realize
That theres less days in front of the
Horse
Than riding in the back of this cart
I say
I want to live the real life
I want to life my life close to the bone
Just because im middle-aged that
Dont mean
I want to sit around my house and watch tv
I want the real life
I want to live the real life.
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Earth Rolls On
Who is the young man, who stands at the dawn of the day,
And views the world with a frivolous outlook, and with ease,
He dreams, new dreams, his life years from decay,
As if the earth were his, and he had only himself to please.
Who is the middle aged man, who stands at the dawn of the day,
And views the world, with an eye of someone so unbelieving,
With stress and pressures, which weigh him down like clay,
He finds the earth to be a place that's so unforgiving.
Who is the old man, who stands at the dawn of the day,
And views the world, with a subdued and despondent air,
He's seen life come and go, and from him now, it's speeding away,
And the earth that he remembers, is no longer fair, no longer there.
But the earth rolls on,
And our lifespan, too, will soon be gone.
The young, the middle aged and the old.
Their stories told.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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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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Europe to me is young people trying to appear middle-aged and middle-aged people trying to appear young.
quote by Mike Myers
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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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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In Our Old Middle Age- An Independence Day Tour
IN OUR OLD MIDDLE AGE-AN INDEPENDANCE DAY TOUR
The army of middle aged misfits reassembles
For an Independence Day tour
Boisterous greetings and nonsensical questions cannot
Deny the green Beauty of a lovingly restored land.
In Hadera at the old court museum
The art of re- presentation is honed
To make live again the struggle
Against all odds and malaria
of the 1891 Zionist pioneers
So many gave their lives before they could fully live them
Planting eucalyptus trees and draining swamps
Building the first little homes outside the Khan
Making a dream come true for generations of families not their own.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Andy And Opie
shots ring out in the middle
of the night...
tires squeal, a body falls.
the shades are drawn, better
turn out the lights...
9-1-1, nobody calls
old woman lying
in a pool of blood,
her check is gone, check long gone...
crackin, crankin,
swept away by the flood
you're all alone, all alone...
there are bars on the windows
there are locks on the doors
young kids dying in the alleys
dont know what they're dying for
no one has the time to care
and no one is keeping score
Andy and Opie just
dont live here anymore....
Andy and Opie just
dont live here anymore.
baby girls got a baby
the daddy's lost
dreams crumble, ashes to dust...
left her in a dumpster
cant pay the cost
feel the heart beating, weeping to rust...
there are bars on the windows
there are locks on the door
young kids dying in the alleys
dont know what they're dying for
no one has the time to care
and no one is keeping score
Andy and Opie just
dont live here anymore...
Andy and Opie just
dont live here anymore...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Bare
If you've got something left to say
You'd better say it now
Anything but 'stay'
Just say it now
We know we've reached the end
We just don't know how
'Well at least we'll still be friends'
Yeah one last useless vow...
'There are different ways to live'
Yeah I know that stuff
'Other ways to give'
Yeah all that stuff
But holding onto used to be
is not enough
Memory's not life
And it's not love
We should let it all go
It never stays the same
So why does it hurt me like this
When you say that I've changed?
When you say that I've aged?
Say I'm afraid...
And all the tears you cry
They're not tears for me
Regrets about your life
They're not regrets for me
It never turns out how you want
Why can't you see?
It all just slips away
it always slips away
eventually...
So if you've got nothing left to say
Just say goodbye
Turn your face away
And say goodbye
You know we've reached the end
You just don't know why
And you know we can't pretend
After all this time
So just let it all go
Nothing ever stays the same
So why does it hurt me like this
To say that I've changed?
To say that I've aged?
Say I'm afraid...
But there are long long nights when I lay awake
And I think of what I've done
Of how I've thrown all my sweetest dreams away
And what I've really become
And however hard I try
I will always feel regret
However hard I try
I will never forget
I will never forget...
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Young
Orbison/curb/christian
Dawn comes up so young, dreams begin so young
And if you live just for today the day may soon be done
But theres a place where dreams always stay so young
A place to hear the sun go down and fade away
To see the wind just run away with yesterday
Anyplace for those who care zabriskie point is anywhere
Time runs out so fast on love too good to last,so young
A time to look forevers there or never found
To touch the sky and really feel the world go round
To live to love to laugh to cry to be alone
Young,so young love was meant to be wild and free
So young young,so young love is space in life
A place in time a state of mind too late I find
When tomorrows gone and love is lost so young
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The long, dull, monotonous years of middle-aged prosperity or middle-aged adversity are excellent campaigning weather for the devil.
quote by C.S. Lewis
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
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Affirmation
To grow old is to lose everything.
Aging, everybody knows it.
Even when we are young,
we glimpse it sometimes, and nod our heads
when a grandfather dies.
Then we row for years on the midsummer
pond, ignorant and content. But a marriage,
that began without harm, scatters
into debris on the shore,
and a friend from school drops
cold on a rocky strand.
If a new love carries us
past middle age, our wife will die
at her strongest and most beautiful.
New women come and go. All go.
The pretty lover who announces
that she is temporary
is temporary. The bold woman,
middle-aged against our old age,
sinks under an anxiety she cannot withstand.
Another friend of decades estranges himself
in words that pollute thirty years.
Let us stifle under mud at the pond's edge
and affirm that it is fitting
and delicious to lose everything.
poem by Donald Hall
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The old believe everything, the middle-aged suspect everything, the young know everything.
quote by Oscar Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heritage Hills Class Of Eighty-One
Heritage Hills Class of Eighty One
Here it is, the year two thousand eleven
Thirty years, thirty years, where did it go
Saddened to learn a few are gone on to Heaven
Heritage Hills Class of Eighty One
My, oh my, where did the time fly
Wow…victories, tears, joy, and fun
Being a grandparent is love not to deny
Heritage Hills Class of Eighty One
Some led the life of the moth to the flame
Many went on to higher knowledge
Knowing happiness in a life that's tame
Heritage Hills Class of Eighty One
One time Providence dealt us a course unknown
We handled it, conquered it, survived it
Now, we bask in seeing our children grown
Heritage Hills Class of Eighty One
Yes, we are middle aged and gray
A few aches, a few pains, but no complaints
It's class reunion time…oh what a great day
poem by Charles Hancock
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The Tea Shop
The girl in the tea shop
Is not so beautiful as she was,
The August has worn against her.
She does not get up the stairs so eagerly;
Yes, she also will turn middle-aged,
And the glow of youth that she spread about us
As she brought us our muffins
Will be spread about us no longer.
She also will turn middle-aged.
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Dan CostinaÅŸ
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Civil Slaves
We are not civil servants
We are civil slaves
Servants work
and get paid
Slaves work
without being paid
like us
poem by Chanda Nsofu
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To Mrs. Thrale on Her Completing Her Thirty-fifth Year
Oft in danger, yet alive,
We are come to thirty-five;
Long may better years arrive,
Better years than thirty-five.
Could philosophers contrive
Life to stop at thirty-five,
Time his hours should never drive
O'er the bounds of thirty-five
High to soar, and deep to dive,
Nature gives at thirty-five.
Ladies, stop and tend your hive,
Trifle not at thirty-five;
For, howe'er we boast and strive,
Life declines from thirty-five:
He that ever hopes to thrive
Must begin by thirty-five:
And all who wisely wish to wive
Must look on Thrale at thirty-five.
poem by Samuel Johnson
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