Brightness Breaches and the Beak
Bright young thing: Thou on the beaches
Life is gay and pleasure laden
All in vain the law beseeches
Courtesy from man and maiden
When a car, adorned with beauty
Unadorned, swings down the road,
There's a certain civic duty,
There's a cop, and there's a code,
There's Dame Caution - stuffy ogress -
Who deplores your carefree progress.
Bright young thing, who, with one finger
Nonchalantly on the steering,
(Ever indisposed to linger)
Down the beach road goes careering -
Youth's high claims need no endorsement,
Ever at convention scoffing;
But the fiends of law-enforcement
Lurk obscurely in the offing,
Prone to pounce on any stir made
Even by a scorching mermaid.
Bright young thing: Life can be brighter
When devoid of traffic danger.
E'en this poor pedestrian blighter,
E'en that slow and aged stranger
Has some right to go on living,
On this earth superfluous lagging.
But not the Law, so far forgiving,
Tires of its paternal nagging,
Ill-content to look askance
On sun-tanned insouciance.
Bright young thing upon the beaches,
Youth is urgent, youth is eager.
But no more the Law beseeches
With its admonitions meagre
Your observance of its ruling,
Your respect for cop, and Code,
But, if you must still go fooling,
'Stepping on it' up the road,
At its end, for flapper, shiek,
Lurks, relentlessly, The Beak.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Duty Done - 1933
A duty done ... What else was there to do?
A simple matter; and as simply solved.
His straight young mind worked straightly - worked as true
As ever youth's clean mind. Here no involved
And weighty pondering of faith or fact.
Duty demanded; and he leapt to act.
He leapt and died . . . Could he but tell it now,
There would, be sure, come no heroic tale.
'What else would any man do, any how?'
This thing cried to be done. How could he fail?
The cry; the danger; Duty's sudden call;
Then - well, a bit of bad luck. That was all.
They say that youth grows cynical: too prone
To weigh advantage; thro' some modern plan
Changed from the clear-eyed youth old days had known:
More of a crafty huckster, less a man.
They say - and they are answered by one youth,
Proving again one wholesome human truth.
A duty done; and valiantly done.
Tho' death came in the doing, yet, who knows
At what wise ordering? No living one
May say how kind death be to such as those
Youth, unjustified, triumphing on his way,
Quiet hero of this world of work-a-day.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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His Youth
Dying? I am not dying. Are you mad?
You think I need to ask for heavenly grace?
\I\ think \you\ are a fiend, who would be glad
To see me struggle in death's cold embrace.
'But, man you lie! for I am strong-in truth
Stronger than I have been in years; and soon
I shall feel young again as in my youth,
My glorious youth-life's one great priceless boon.
'O youth, youth, youth! O God, that golden time,
When proud and glad I laughed the hours away.
Why, there's no sacrifice (perhaps no crime)
I'd pause at, could it make me young to-day.
'But I'm not \old\! I grew-just ill, somehow;
Grew stiff of limb, and weak, and dim of sight.
It was but sickness. I am better now,
Oh, vastly better, ever since last night.
'And I could weep warm floods of happy tears
To think my strength is coming back at last,
For I have dreamed of such an hour for years,
As I lay thinking of my glorious past.
'You shake your head? Why, man, if you were sane
I'd strike you to my feet, I would, in truth.
How dare you tell me that my hopes are vain?
How dare you say I have outlived my youth?
''In heaven I may regain it?' Oh, be still!
I want no heaven but what my glad youth gave.
Its long, bright hours, its rapture and its thrill-
O youth, youth, youth! it is my \youth\ I crave.
'There is no heaven! There's nothing but a deep
And yawning grave from which I shrink in fear.
I am not sure of even rest or sleep;
Perhaps we lie and \think\, as I have here.
'Think, think, think, think, as we lie there and rot,
And hear the young above us laugh in glee.
How dare you say I'm dying! \I am not\.
I would curse God if such a thing could be.
'Why, see me stand! why, hear this strong, full breath-
Dare you repeat that silly, base untruth?'
A cry-a fall-the silence known as death
Hushed his wild words. Well, has he found his youth?
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Young Moon
Written by dewey bunnell and gerry beckley, 1994
Found on hourglass and highway.
Fascination with the light in your hair
A celebration, nothing else can compare
An invitation to share my life with you
Stepping forward, reaching out for your hand
Hear the music of the sea on the sand
Like a vision rising out of the blue
Looking like a
Young moon in the heavens
Mother to the stars
Young moon guide us tonight
Elevation to a place high above
The combination, you and me and our love
Determination to spend my life with you
Looking at you face to face with my world
A quiet beauty not like just any girl
Moving slowly from the dark into view
Looking like a
Young moon in the heavens
Mother to the stars
Young moon guide us tonight
We are here in this moment
Shining twice as bright
We are here for you to see
Bright lights, long shadows
Tonight, we can handle
All of the doubts we may hold inside
It is a new day, things are different now
Weve got each other
Well keep looking for that young moon
We are here in this moment
Shining twice as bright
We are here for all to see
Young moon in the heavens
Mother to the stars
Young moon guide us tonight
We are here in this moment
Shining twice as bright ...
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forever Young
(r. stewart/j.cregan/k.savigar)
May the good lord be with you
Down every road you roam
And may sunshine and happiness
Surround you when youre far from home
And may you grow to be proud
Dignified and true
And do unto others
As youd have done to you
Be courageous and be brave
And in my heart youll always stay
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young
May good fortune be with you
May your guiding light be strong
Build a stairway to heaven
With a prince or a vagabond
And may you never love in vain
And in my heart you will remain
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young
Forever young
Forever young
And when you finally fly away
Ill be hoping that I served you well
For all the wisdom of a lifetime
No one can ever tell
But whatever road you choose
Im right behind you, win or lose
Forever young, forever young
Forever young ,forever young
Forever young, forever young
For, forever young, forever young
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bright Side Of The Road
From the dark end of the street
To the bright side of the road
Well be lovers once again on the
Bright side of the road
Little darlin, come with me
Wont you help me share my load
From the dark end of the street
To the bright side of the road
Into this life were born
Baby sometimes we dont know why
And time seems to go by so fast
In the twinkling of an eye
Lets enjoy it while we can
Wont you help me sing my song
From the dark end of the street
To the bright side of the road
From the dark end of the street
To the bright side of the road
Well be lovers once again
On the bright side of the road
Well be lovers once again on the bright side of the road
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Youth Is Splendour
Young bore young when in small age,
Though my time coincided with my life’s battling
And my praiseworthy feat was destroyed.
Young people bitterly reject, utterly in loss
Of the world at large, their bellies ache from slaughtering
The elder lot and sharing food, this may ache.
Yet youth forbade the old, the aged, strict, loving and kind,
Having laughter and so much to despise.
We should be young who are mindful of age,
Let us love oneself as well, just when young hearts describe
Themselves in the deep world.
The youth is splendid, the older periods of life are a consequence
Of splendour.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Idle Son
Young Benjamin left school this year
And stepped right in a job;
And he starts in hope of a life career,
Like his eldest brother, Bob.
But Sam, the lad who came between,
Born in the fateful year 'thirteen,
Still vainly seeks a place;
And the mark of his fate, too plainly seen,
Dawns in his listless face.
For Sam was born in a black year,
In the year of the world's black rage
To rob his youth of childish mirth;
And another curse was on the earth
In the year he came of age.
War and depression, this grim twain,
Have clouded life for a bright young brain.
Life smiles for Benjamin and Bob,
Each lucky in his age;
But the count of years falls ill to rob
Same of his heritage:
Too old for a youth's apprenticeship,
Untrained, too young for a man's firm grip,
Tho' a man in stature grown,
He lives to see his chances slip,
Thro' no fault of his own.
For Sam was born in a black year,
In a black year came from school.
But we who know past years of ease
Hold stern responsibilities
Ere his youthful ardours cool.
Ours is the duty, ours the task
To yield what youth has right to ask.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Character of Youth
I can scarcely tell the character of youth,
Nature is young with fruit, it ripens many times;
Full of fever, young men and women define
The basis for their lives, the ones that value us.
Judgment is infinitely better when minds are sane,
You can plod for hours working miracles,
But youth shall never arrive, forming tennis and sport.
Isn’t the face so wild with glory?
Isn’t the old age with us?
What is more than youth when charity bellows?
My young trance travels to dislike the danger
Attributed to life as we perceive it,
The data corrupts on the mind, it fails.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Belle Isle
One evening for pleasure I rambled to view
The fair fields all alone
Down by the banks of loch eiron
Where beauty and pleasure were known.
I spied a fair maid at her labour
Which caused me to stay for a while
And I thought of a goddess to beauty
Bloomin bright star of bright isle.
I humbled myself to her beauty
Fair maiden, where do you belong ?
Are you from heaven descended
Abiding in cupids fair throne ? .
Young man, I will tell you a secret
Its true Im a maid that is poor
And to part from my vows and my promise
Is more than my heart can endure.
Therefore I remain at my service
And go through all my hardship and toil
And wait for the lad that has left me
All alone on the banks of belle isle.
Young maiden I wish not to banter
Its true I come here in disguise
I came here to fulfill our last promise
And hope to give you a surprise.
Ive known youre a maid I love dearly
And youve been in my heart all the while
For me there is no other damsel
Than my bloomin bright star of belle isle.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Youth Always Wins
Generational change
wins always
because the old and middle-aged
develop a clouded lens
and can' t see Now
because focused on Yesterday.
Is good advice for Youth Now
consist of lessons learned yesterday,
when yesterday no longer exists?
Can we tell the Young that yesterday
is relevant
when all yesterday is dead and gone?
How can we council that the old views
and yesterday make sense
when conditions have so changed
have been rent,
mangled beyond
recognition?
Young people
as they must
absorb much from us,
but their capacities
and needs are so much greater
than our meager philosophies present.
For the first time in history
young people are smarter
than their elders who
barely know how a computer works.
First time in history the young
are wiser than the septuagenarians.
Generations are additive
and while all youth stands upon
our shoulders
it also means they can see further
than we
planted on the ground below.
We see ground level and the past-
they see above the clouds to that future-ness;
and we complain
because we know in our Youth
we did
exactly
the same thing
against our parents
who always thought
they too,
knew best.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Youth and Age
Dance on, dance on, we see, we see
Youth goes, alack, and with it glee,
A boy the old man ne'er can be;
Maternal thirty scarce can find
The sweet sixteen long left behind;
Old folks must toil, and scrape, and strain,
That boys and girls may once again
Be that for them they cannot be,
But which it gives them joy to see,
Youth goes and glee; but not in vain
Young folks if only you remain.
Dance on, dance on, 'tis joy to see;
The dry red leaves on winter's tree,
Can feel the new sap rising free.
On, on, young folks; so you survive,
The dead themselves are still alive;
The blood in dull parental veins
Long numbed, a tingling life regains.
Deep down in earth, the tough old root
Is conscious still of flower and fruit.
Spring goes and glee but were not vain:
In you, young folks, they come again.
Dance on, dance on, we see, we feel;
Wind, wind your waltzes, wind and wheel,
Our senses too with music reel;
Nor let your pairs neglect to fill
The old ancestral scorned quadrille.
Let hand the hand uplifted seek,
And pleasure fly from cheek to cheek;
Love too; but gently, nor astray,
And yet, deluder, yet in play.
Dance on; youth goes: but all's not vain,
Young folks, if only you remain.
Dance on, dance on, 'tis joy to see;
We once were nimble e'en as ye,
And danced to give the oldest glee;
O wherefore add, as we, you too,
Once gone your prime cannot renew;
You too, like us, at last shall stand
To watch and not to join the band,
Content some day (a far-off day)
To your supplanters soft to say,
Youth goes, but goes not all in vain,
Young folks, so only you remain,
Dance on, dance on, 'tis joy to see.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Getting Old
When you’re young you think you know it all
Then you get old and life begins to unfold.
In their youth they don’t think ahead
The future is something they do not dread.
They feel that everything in life they can control
They’re young and strong and very bold.
Aaaah! Those beautiful days bring back memories
Of how simple life used to be.
Youth had respect for the elderly
And their fellow man.
Now the elderly they try to scam.
When they are older they will see
They want respect and to live with dignity.
they are young and they don’t seem to understand
That with age you may need a helping hand.
Everything in life comes in stages
It’s like a book when you turn the pages
It gets deeper and keeps you enthralled
Until the time that you reach the end
And you’ve lost all your family and friends.
The First stage is when you are a child
And someone is taking care of you for that while.
The Second stage is when you become a teen
And you feel like a king or queen.
You feel that you can not get old
This is what you believe at this stage in your life
Because you’re not looking at the struggles and strife.
The Third stage is the adolescent years
And you feel you’re in control and lose your fears.
The final stage is when you become old and gray
And your youthful years have slipped away.
You look back and ask yourself!
where did All those years go?
Why did I waste so much time?
And the most important thing is
That I am so glad I made you mine
For with you by my side I had a life divine.
So to the youth who have not gotten to this stage
Don’t get angry, and get rid of your rage.
There is no way to turn back the time
For time just moves straight ahead
You’re getting to the point that you now dread.
WELCOME TO OLD AGE! HA-HA
poem by Louis Rams
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Juvenile Earth
What pleasure thou begets by not
Showering traits on those who need not
The brain they desire not
Or is it
To make them realise
The importance of have and have nots
Buddha the apostle of peace
Was born to lead
He ostracised the lead
Disrupting Manu's code
Which established societies bonds.
You have no means
You want to achieve
Desire to achieve
Buried by the meagre means.
The optimum strength of youth
Found a new cradle - the blackhole.
Improvisations they find, in age
And stretch towards the State
That which comes only once
In the blackhole spent
Age, when it comes never leaves
Instead age has to be left behind
Realisations of haves and have nots
Then, left far behind
Arn't we all
Young and old
Living in his laboratory
Code named - Earth
Are tools of his research
The research for an ideal world.
poem by Sanjay Mehta
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In the spirit of Rumi - 50 - One Thing
Oh the pleasure, the happiness,
the delight, the joy, the bliss,
of doing just one thing above all!
When I was a child, I did many things;
that’s right for children – there’s the world,
go play in it; ask, what’s a horizon? but what
lies beyond? and why can’t I see angels
if angels can see me? …
When I was a young man, I did many things;
that’s right for young men – which one will I love?
which one will love me? And when we’ve together found our love,
oh what then? and oh what then?
But now I’m older, there seems less time
for many things; they will look after themselves
without my help… so, what delight
to give oneself to just one thing…
one thing at a time; and then
one thing…
and it seems, it doesn’t matter what;
roses need an expert to collaborate
in dreaming up new beauty from an older stock;
dogs need exercise, and a two-legs to look up to;
grandchildren are born to love grandparents
in a special way..
and, duties done, and hearts served well,
one thing…it might be poetry,
in which to say, look, all this
I’ve received: here’s recognition,
acknowledgement, and gratitude…
and the other things, like sleeping, eating,
become day by day like living in someone else’s poem;
someone else committed to one thing…
and then one day, perhaps,
life’s curtain twitches; and some great being
looks in the window, the very moment you look out;
and ‘one thing’, in the most natural way,
becomes…
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Youth is not a time of life, it is a state of mind. You are as old as your doubt, your fear, your despair. The way to keep young is to keep your faith young. Keep your self confidence young. Keep your hope young.
quote by Luella F. Phean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fooling Yourself (Palm Of Your Hands)
The Angry Young Man)
You see the world through your cynical eyes
You're a troubled young man I can tell
You've got it all in the palm of your hand
But your hand's wet with sweat
And your head needs a rest
And you're fooling yourself if you don't believe it
Why must you be such an angry young man
When your future looks quite bright to me
And how can there be such a sinister plan
That could hide such a lamb
Such a caring young man
And you're fooling yourself if you don't believe it
You're killing yourself if you don't believe it
Get up, get back on your feet
You're the one they can't beat and you know it
Come on let's see what you've got
Just take your best shot and don't blow it.
Lyrics by: Tommy Shaw
Music by: Tommy Shaw
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Young, Dumb and Beautiful
Young, dumb and beautiful
She is everything I need
Young, dumb and beautiful
She means the world to me
Young, dumb and beautiful
A flower for the world to see
Young, dumb and beautiful
So glad she loves me
I used to stare into her eye's in awe
The passion we shared made my heart fall
I hope she knows she means the world to me
Never thought someone so beautiful would ever love me
So many countless nights I yearned for true love
Prayed for God to send me an angel from above
Now I know that some prayers come true
Because every morning when I wake its next to you
Young, dumb and beautiful
Thank you for being mine
Young, dumb and beautiful
A love to grow with time
As I hold your hand down this bright road.
Gonna tell you something that Ive never told.
Want you to know I love you so.
Let us share our hearts forever more.
Young, dumb and beautiful
Blow a kiss into the breeze
Young, dumb and beautiful
She's brought me to my knee's
poem by Lance Carthen
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Bright Lights
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
As the world is round, the road is long
Ive trouble on my mind
Ill just keep on moving
Until the day comes round
The wind a blowing on my back
And my feet a flying
Flying down the road
Where the bright lights shine
Mondays in a pigtown
Tuesdays in a truck
Wednesdays a field of mud
And thursdays out of luck
Fridays rain clouds
Saturday flies by
Sunday comes shining
From a blue blue sky
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
Some towns are golden
Some towns are stained
Some towns are shadows
Fading in the rain
Some towns are rust
And some towns they gleam
Some towns are mad dogs
Some towns are a dream
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
Some dreams are hollow
Some dreams are cold
Some dreams are crazy
And some dreams are bold
Some dreams are bought
And other dreams are sold
Some dreams lie waiting
At the end of the road
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Old And Young
Devour the old and young,
Investigate the obstacles indeed;
Let life be gorgeous as pies,
The food we offer is the food of youth.
Slippery roads to eternity are small
And slippery due to life,
May the old aged people be staff
For the young and strong.
Oppose them as they stand
With each other, with their danger.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Youth And Lordship
MY young lord's the lover
Of earth and sky above,
Of youth's sway and youth's play,
Of songs and flowers and love.
Yet for love's desire
Green youth lacks the daring;
Though one dream of fire,
All his hours ensnaring,
Burns the boy past bearing—
The dream that girls inspire.
My young lord's the lover
Of every burning thought
That Love's will, that Love's skill
Within his breast has wrought.
Lovely girl, look on him
Soft as music's measure;
Yield him, when you've won him,
Joys and toys at pleasure;
But to win your treasure,
Softly look upon him.
My young lord's the lover
Of every tender grace
That woman, to woo man,
Can wear in form or face.
Take him to your bosom
Now, girl, or never;
Let not your new blossom
Of sweet kisses sever;
Only guard for ever
Your boast within your bosom.
My young lord's the lover
Of every secret thing,
Love-hidden, love-bidden
This day to banqueting.
Lovely girl, with vaunting
Never tempt to-morrow:
From all shapes enchanting
Any joy can borrow,
Still the spectre Sorrow
Rises up for haunting.
And now my lord's the lover
Of ah! so many a sweet,—
Of roses, of spouses,
As many as love may greet.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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