I've only been doing this fifty-four years. With a little experience, I might get better.
quote by Harry Caray
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Crossing Fifty
Crossing fifty now,
holding kgs of hundred;
Grey grown head and
glistening forehead.
Climbed peak of hill
now time to slope down;
With several branches
chunky tree is grown.
Putting a step further
at stair of growing old;
Celebrating golden jubilee
fifty years behold.
Amassed the ruggedness,
experience, knowledge;
To surrender to the world
carrying responsibilities.
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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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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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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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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We do not believe that the Marxist program, which embodies the continuity of the experience of the actual class struggle and real revolutions of the last one hundred and fifty years, is a definitely closed book.
quote by Ernest Mandel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In my fifty years of experience and memory, I have seen the most amazing increase in the standard of living of a people ever achieved anywhere in the world. This is why I am so sure that our system of free competition and industrial development is sound and must be preserved.
quote by Charles E. Wilson
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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Poem Celebrating 50 Years
My dear, ‘twas fifty years ago when we first met
on a trip to Stratford that I'll never forget.
When as a sweet girl of fourteen you caught my eye
and love first began its great work in this old guy.
Today we dined together and were reminiscing
and we praised God for each years' wonderful blessing.
Then we sat by the canal in the bright moonlight
holding hands like two lovers sitting in God's sight.
Time has passed by and how quickly the years have flown
and God has blessed us greatly as our love has grown.
I am so glad that I have married you my dear
and shared the experience of each passing year.
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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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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Better Sleep.
Suddenly it’s so tired that made me felt asleep.
Laid on deck no feeling slowly slept so deep.
No matter the sounds of how many beeper beeps.
I could not control myself has fallen sleep.
My tired body was unable to sit on my deck.
I pulled it go to my bed really took a sweet sleep
I did not care so many books on the deck junk heap
This is the first experience, I felt better after a little sleep
How wonderful I got back my good spirit.
After this experience I learned afternoon sleep.
In the passed fifty years I have never been so tired.
This might be a signal to train myself get rest.
It is why there in Perking teach children noon sleep.
Yes, sleep can help people get healthier.
Why not go to sleep when you’re tired?
You have better learn the advantageous sleep.
About sleep I remember twenty years ago one day.
My eye balls were uncontrollable automatically leaped
It was my experience during my long way’s drive.
That time I had to park my car aside to get half hour sleep.
I scared to drive any more when I really felt tired.
It is my serious warning to you won’t be risk on this.
poem by Albert Wong
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What is all wisdom save a collection of platitudes. Take fifty of our current proverbial sayings-- they are so trite, so threadbare. None the less they embody the concentrated experience of the race, and the man who orders his life according to their teachings cannot be far wrong. Has any man ever attained to inner harmony by pondering the experience of others? Not since the world began! He must pass through fire.
quote by Norman Douglas
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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The Experience
The Experience
Twenty years ago
What I thought of as correct
I now see as wrong
I could have been right back then
If my views are now habitual
Due to lack of perceptions
But twenty years ago
I lacked lives true experience
Habituated by norm
Following the mainstream
I may see thing clearer now
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Zig Zags Rolling Another One
She came home today from her vacation with an attitude
Told me she was leaving me for good
Said her love had died since she’d been gone
Now it was time for her to be moving on….
Then she asked me for the car keys and fifty bucks
Twenty five years of marriage and all she wanted
was fifty bucks and the keys to the car…
She won’t get far…
2008 © ts
poem by Ted Sheridan
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Zig Zags
She came home today from her vacation with an attitude
Told me she was leaving me for good
Said her love had died since she’d been gone
Now it was time for her to be moving on….
Then she asked me for the car keys and fifty bucks
Twenty five years of marriage and all she wanted
was fifty bucks and the keys to the car…
She won’t get far…
2008 © Rj
poem by Rocket James
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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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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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English Jan
She still has her English accent the one known as English Jan
And she never was a mother nor a wife to any man
She ages without dyes or makeups her hair is silver gray
But do not say about her she has known a better day.
She migrated to Melbourne from Blackpool her Hometown by the Irish sea
When she was in her early twenties in nineteen fifty three
Fifty one years in Australia yet she remains undimmed by time
And more than forty years have passed since she was in her prime.
For forty years a school teacher her retirement she enjoy
And she will make the most of every day until the day she die
She plays bowls on a saturday and on sunday evening after eight
She socializes with her friends and always until late.
On sunday mornings at the Corner cafe she is one I always see
And she does always say hello and smile and wave at me
So down to earth and carefree and untainted by conceit
And one of those good people I feel happy for to meet
She does not use dyes or makeups and she ages in the natural way
And she is one of those nice people who makes a new friend every day
From the English Town of Blackpool by the cold Irish sea
She migrated to Melbourne in nineteen fifty three.
poem by Francis Duggan
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