I have lived long enough both in years and in accomplishments.
quote by Julius Caesar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wherever your life ends, it is all there. The advantage of living is not measured by length, but by use; some men have lived long, and lived little; attend to it while you are in it. It lies in your will, not in the number of years, for you to have lived enough.
quote by Michel de Montaigne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Walked Last Night In A District I Lived In For Almost Twenty Years
I WALKED LAST NIGHT IN A DISTRICT I LIVED IN FOR ALMOST TWENTY YEARS
I walked last night in a district I lived in for almost twenty years
I came back after being away for a time
To visit an old and ailing friend
The streets were empty and lonely as they often were then-
I thought for the first time I understood how lonely the district itself is-
‘A lonely district’
I wondered how I managed to live there all those years
And how anyone still manages to live there-
I looked up at the sky and wrote in my mind a small poem of a kind I wrote many of in my years there
I remembered teachers and friends who had lived there
No longer of this district or any district on earth
I wondered how life goes and how from so many years so much life has been lived without having any place in my memory
I felt as empty inside as the district without
I did not have to wait long for the bus
And relieved inside it I put my heart to home
So many years had been lived there
I remembered taking my small children to the playground there
Now they thank G-d have children of their own
Oh the years go by and the life we have lived in them largely dies
Forever to be unknown again-
I put my heart and mind in a different direction
And began to do what I always do – not think of the district again
Life is this mystery and question we live through and never wholly possess even as we are experiencing it
How long before all will be gone for me
Including the district I live in now?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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On Himself
A wearied pilgrim I have wander'd here,
Twice five-and-twenty, bate me but one year;
Long I have lasted in this world; 'tis true
But yet those years that I have lived, but few.
Who by his gray hairs doth his lustres tell,
Lives not those years, but he that lives them well:
One man has reach'd his sixty years, but he
Of all those three-score has not lived half three:
He lives who lives to virtue; men who cast
Their ends for pleasure, do not live, but last.
poem by Robert Herrick
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Too many accomplishments makes no accomplishments.
The King [ I ]
AMONG the sons of Englishmen
Full many feel like real tears,
For, though he reigned but scarcely ten,
He bore the burden many years.
He lived the dead past doubly down,
He shamed, by manliness and truth,
The lies that beat about a crown,
And round a known man in his youth.
For he had lived as men have done
Since Adam’s time, to prove them true.
He proved it in his manhood’s prime,
And to the end, as strong men do.
And so he died, and, ever since,
And on through years the words shall ring:
“He lived a man, he lived a prince,
And died a gentleman and King.”
Unto the friends of his hot youth,
In his wise age, he still was true.
He showed, by steadfastness and truth,
What kings as well as men can do;
Till all was manlike or forgot,
Long years ere he found his release;
He made them loyal who were not,
He won respect, and kept the peace.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Imitated From The Japanese
A MOST astonishing thing --
Seventy years have I lived;
(Hurrah for the flowers of Spring,
For Spring is here again.)
Seventy years have I lived
No ragged beggar-man,
Seventy years have I lived,
Seventy years man and boy,
And never have I danced for joy.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Go to See the World
I long to see the world
Where should I go first?
There's a song called
Go to See GuiLin When You Graduate
A song I loved
When I was still a high school student
For many years the song was unheard
So much time has passed
'It is a lovely place', he said
I could not respond with my heart pounding so fast
Oh my dear friend
I wish there's more I could say at that moment
But what was lived was lived
I wonder if only Jack Welch's life can be lived with no regret
To explore the big world
One should make no haste
As long as one is on the road
There'll always be another rhyme to write
poem by Cathy Shao
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Uncle Alvarez
Theres a portrait of uncle alvarez
Hangin in the hall
Nobody wants to look at it
But uncle alvarez sees us all
Oh, oh, oh, imaginary accomplishments
Hey, hey, hey, you visionary guy
You might even shake the hands of presidents
Better send a postcard and keep the family quiet
Hes not really a part cherokee indian
He didnt fight in the civil war
Hes just eugene isaac alvarez
We feel sorry for the wall
Oh, oh, oh, imaginary accomplishments
Hey, hey, hey, you visionary guy
You might even shake the hands of presidents
Youre gonna make em sorry when you die
And its a long way down
Youre hoping for a heart attack
Runnin around
Investing in this and that
And your beautiful wife keeps your life on a shelf for you
Safe in the bedroom
Where theres no dust or mildew
And its hard to believe you were once a beautiful dancer
Better just to shake it off
As you write your resume
Dont think of uncle alvarez
And the price he had to pay
Oh, oh, oh, imaginary accomplishments
Hey, hey, hey, you visionary guy
You might even shake the hands of presidents
Youre gonna make em sorry when you die
Oh, oh, oh, imaginary accomplishments
Hey, hey, hey, you visionary guy
You might even shake the hands of presidents
Better send some money to the alma mater
song performed by by Liz Phair
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Where You're Coming From
You can not walk in my shoes
And expect to achieve progress.
Nor can you look over my shoulder,
To perceive your accomplishments!
Nothing that I've done,
Materialized just on wishes.
You want an easy ride.
Without hard work done...
Or tears to cry!
You want a smooth and clear path,
With time to joke and time to laugh!
They may call this business the creative arts!
But the creative part about it...?
How to sustain a sanity maintained
While holding onto a part of you...
No one but you know!
And It breathes with life but no one sees it!
As ignorant comments are made on a daily basis,
About 'you' and your lack of progress!
You want an easy ride.
Without hard work done...
Or tears to cry!
You want a smooth and clear path,
With time to joke and time to laugh!
You can not walk in my shoes
And expect to achieve progress.
Nor can you look over my shoulder,
To perceive your accomplishments!
Nothing that I've done,
Materialized just on wishes.
Years in the making!
Years with much of my heart breaking!
It took me years...
And don't think I don't notice,
Where you're coming from!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Scenarios In Our Mind
It is funny how in our daydreams
we bump into someone from our past.
We greet them with open arms,
reflecting on what has happened
to us in the intervening years.
We make scenarios in our mind
of how their lives went on.
Knowing in a way they are always wrong,
but are just the way we hoped they lived
and were happy all day long.
Then reality kicks in,
the daydream busts
and you find they’ve lived a life
you could never envisage for them.
16 January 2009
poem by David Harris
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Instead of solid accomplishments, the man pursues pleasures and self-gratification. He will never achieve anything so long as he is surrounded by dissipating temptations.
quote by I Ching
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Long, Long, Long, Long Ago
Long, long, long, long ago,
There lived a man named Santiago
He loved to play his pipe day long,
By the rivulet and hill along.
The tune of the pipe filled the air,
Nature the listener, human a rare!
With its melody danced the trees,
The brooklet stopped going freeze.
The sky remained azure always,
The Sun could not withdraw his rays.
He had nothing to have there,
Squirrels cracked nuts to share.
The song birds singing moved around,
Keeping in pace with his lovely sound.
Happy was the man Santiago,
He lived there long, long ago.
poem by Nilakshi Das
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For Mel (villanelle)
The one who should have lived has gone so fast.
The old ones, in their dotage, linger on –
they, with no future, live only in the past.
And we who can but sit, dumb and aghast,
scarcely believe that while the sun still shone
the one who should have lived has gone so fast.
Six decades older, surviving to their last
few days or years, together but alone,
they, with no future, live only in the past.
At least she kept on living to the last,
but should have had a future. She has none.
The one who should have lived has gone so fast,
and they, for whom so many years have passed,
are unaware that one they loved is gone.
They, with no future, live only in the past,
mark time until the final trumpet blast,
and never know the respite they have won.
The one who should have lived has gone so fast.
They, with no future, live only in the past.
poem by Paul Hansford
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Is He Too Old...
Is he too old to be president?
Can a bird fly with one wing?
No one can say,
What has yet not been observed!
But then again...
Trees have lived for hundreds of years!
Observing.
And providing an 'allowance'
For all of us to live.
And as long as he has life...
Who has the right to question,
His age and abilities...
To do what someone younger,
For years could not do!
And 'youth'...
Although there,
Did not follow through to provide the proof!
Where is that evidence?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Years From Now
As I see myself many years from now
I am relaxed and happy as I am retired
No longer tied to work or chained to a plow
Living my life and situation that I have long desired,
I most certainly will still be reflecting and writing
While remembering the adventures of my life
But I will not be arguing or even fighting
As I will be tired of that cumbersome strife,
I will also think of the good deeds I have done
Also I will smile remembering the joy I have brought
As GOD knows I was a good father and a good son
And never pain or dishonor from anyone had I sought,
I will probably also think about my past loves
And truly in my heart I wish them all well
Sadly we were unmatched like worn out gloves
But it wasn't I who discarded them, as I did not fail,
I will remember all the accomplishments that I achieved
When I look back at all those yesterdays
And I will also remember the tears I had grieved
But to my strength and determination I will give praise,
Many years from now I see myself as a happy man
I will had accomplished no more that what GOD would allow
Being happy and joyful though will be my greatest plan
As I see myself, many years from now.
RANDY L. McCLAVE
poem by Randy McClave
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French Teacher
Being in Paris for over
Thirty years, he taught
French to younsters
At sixty five, reminscing
The Eiffel tower, the squares
Of Paris, the promenades
The painters, especially
The beuties, with a smack
Of his old lips, mentioning
Them quite often,
But not mentioning
The life of love he led,
He lived ina old fort like house
Looking after his
Wife and shy daughter,
With thought of france
Where he lived so long,
For company of his oldage.
poem by Ravikiran Arakkal
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An Epitaph
I've lived a rather careless life,
And many a fault have I;
But I'd have you not stress the strife
What time I come to die.
I'd rather have you talk about
My qualities humane;
As one who cut the rough stuff out,
And has not lived in vain.
So, when you seek to laud my worth,
Write this - let truth prevail:
'He lived for many years on earth,
Yet never killed a whale.'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our family has lived in Iran for 2,500 years, and Iranian Jewry has the long history in that land.
quote by Moshe Katsav
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Day Old Shep Died
it's been thirty years,
that he's been gone,
the day he died, brought tears,
all day, i played his song.
for nine long years,
i loved him and he loved me,
the day he died, broght tears,
toward the end, he could barely see.
when he died, i was seventeen years,
my child hood died that day,
the day he died, brought tears,
during his youth, we were always at play.
him and i was, so close in years,
when i got shep he was five and i eight,
the day he died brought tears,
he always ate his meals, off our plate.
he died at eighty-four in human years,
he lived to a ripe old age,
the day he died brought tears,
for this poem, he set the stage.
i can't believe, its been so many years,
i think about him, all the time,
the day he died, brought tears,
but old shep, was all mind.
of all these many years,
no dog has taken the place of old shep,
the day he died, brought tears,
i'll always remember, that dog with pep
in memory of old shep 1946-1960 written june 21,1990