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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Related quotes
Jars
The second she was born, they put bits of her in jars,
placenta was the first, that went in the jar,
oh yah, it went straight in the jar.
Then when she was 4, her tonsils, what's more,
her adenoids too were all put in jars,
oh yah, they went straight in the jar.
Hospitals, such strange places, all antiseptic and large
and medics are prone to examine, you know,
all those bodily parts left in jars.
So getting back to the story, appendicitis was next,
and sure as the first two small stanza's
you can guess where appendix went next.
For a while they left her alone, in tact and therefore unharmed
but as soon as she turned 47
they put more of her bits in those jars.
Her uterus and her cervix along with her ovaries too
and next on the list was a very small cyst
that they put in a jar labeled blue.
By the time this poor lady was 60
there wasn't much left I'm afraid, but at least when she died
she was tiny and the coffin was perfect sized.
poem by Ruth Walters
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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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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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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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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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We stole a box of honey jars one time and went out in the woods and took care of the whole box. I don't think I touched honey again for 20 years. I never wanted to see honey again.
quote by Quincy Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Down the Sweet Shop
The little corner shop
full of special treats
Chocolate, bottles of Pop,
and jars and jars of sweets.
With pocket money in hand
given to me by my Dad
sometimes a little bit extra
if he heard I'd been a good lad.
I really loved that little shop
it was every young boys dream
you could get everything you'd want
Football Cards, Toys, and Ice-Cream.
My dad used the shop as well
he'd pop in to buy his fags
and Mum did her weekly shop
she'd get me to help her with the bags.
Then along came the big supermarket
the little shop began to lose it's trade
so sadly it had to close it's doors
an end of an era again I'm afraid.
But I'll always remember the little shop
stood there at the bottom of our lane
yes it may have only been small
but it had more style than any supermarket chain!
poem by Kevin Halls
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To an Aged Cut-Up, II
Chloris lay off the flapper stuff;
What's fit for Pholoë, a fluff,
Is not for Ibycus's wife--
A woman at your time of life!
Ignore, old dame, such pleasures as
The shimmy and "the Bacchus Jazz";
Your presence with the maidens jars--
You are the cloud that dims the stars.
Your daughter Pholoë may stay
Out nights on the Appian Way;
her love for Nothus, as you know,
Makes her as playful as a doe.
No jazz for you, no jars of wine,
No rose that blooms incarnadine.
For one thing only you are fit:
Buy some Lucerian wool--and knit!
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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Your Golden Wedding Day
It was fifty years ago Mom
That you saw that special smile.
He was handsome, tall and debonair
He was definitely your style.
She was everything you wanted, Dad
Your search came to an end.
Your asked her if she’d be your wife
So your lives could soon began.
She needed time she said, to date
But found no man to compare
So you drifted close together
Into a love so strong, so rare.
The children came eventually
There were good times, and yes, some bad
And though your marriage vows were tested
You found a love you’d never had.
You laid a strong foundation
That many kids grow up without
And I’ll take this time to thank you
Our home had love, there was no doubt.
And now it seems impossible
That fifty years have past.
You were blessed with special qualities
For a marriage that would last.
As we gather here together
We all just want to say,
A special “Congratulations”
On your Golden Wedding Day.
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Like Yesterday
It's three years now since you left
But I still think of you like yesterday
My love of past days
They still want me like yesterday;
But in my heart today
It is you I see in my dreams,
With you I want to
Spend the rest of my days.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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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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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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Good Old Days
Oh some times I think back to when I was younger
Life was so much simpler then
Dad would be up at dawn
Hed be watering the lawn
Or maybe going fishing again
Oh and mom would be fixing up something in the kitchen
Fresh biscuits or hot apple pie
And Id spend all day long in the basement
Torturing rats with a hack-saw
And pulling the wings off of flies
Those were the good old days
Those were the good old days
The years go by but the memory stays
And those were the good old days
I can still remember good old mr. fender
Who ran the corner grocery store
Oh, hed strolled down the aisle with a big friendly smile
And hed say howdy when you walked in the door
Always treated me nice, gave me kindly advice
I dont know why I set fire to his place
Oh Ill never forget the day I bashed in his head
Well you shouldve seen the look on his face
Let me tell ya now
Those were the good old days
Those were the good old days
The years go by but the memory stays
And those were the good old days
Do you remember sweet michelle
She was my high school romance
She was fun to talk to and nice to smell
So I took her to the homecoming dance
Then I tied her to a chair and I shaved off all her hair
And I left her in the desert all alone
Well sometimes in my dreams
I can still hear the screams
Oh I wonder if she ever made it home
I tell ya
Those were the good old days
Those were the good old days
The years go by but the memory stays
And those were the good old days
Let me tell ya buddy
Those were the good old days
Those were the good old days
The years go by but the memory stays
And those were the good old days
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yesterday
(Keith UrbanG M Holden)
I remember as a kid wishin' I was seventeen
No more school, my own car.
back then it was all a dream
Then came the day to say goodbye to the room that was once mine
One last look at my old world then
I closed the door behind, to
CHORUS:
Yesterday, everything was easy
Livin' life like there was no tomorrow
Now everyday memories still remind me
How good things used to be yesterday
Well thirty-five soon rolled around
and everything had changed
I could count friends on one hand and
the good times weren't the same
But finally I cam to understand why people say
Don't spend all your childhood wishin'
the best years away
Now I'm longin' for the freedom
REPEAT CHORUS
That I let slip away
I took it all for granted
REPEAT CHORUS 2x
Now it's gone like yesterday
Remembering all those years, yesterday
song performed by by Keith Urban
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.
When The World Is Running Down, You Make The Best Of Whats Still Around
Turn on my vcr
Same one Ive had for years
James brown on the tammy show
Same tape Ive had for years
I sit in my old car
Same one Ive had for years
Old batterys running down
It ran for years and years
Turn on the radio
The static hurts my ears
Tell me where would I go
I aint been out in years
Turn on the stereo
Its played for years and years
An otis redding song
Its all I own
When the world is running down
You make the best of whats still around
When the world is running down
You make the best of whats still around
Plug in my mci
To excercise my brain
Make records on my own
Cant go out in the rain
Pick up the telephone
Ive listened here for years
No-one to talk to me
Ive listened here for years
When the world is running down
You make the best of whats still around
When the world is running down
You make the best of whats still around
When I feel lonely here
Dont waste my time with tears
I run deep throat again
It ran for years and years
Dont like the food I eat
The cans are running out
Same food for years and years
I hate the food I eat
When the world is running down
You make the best of whats still around
When the world is running down
You make the best of whats still around
When the world is running down
You make the best of whats still around
When the world is running down
You make the best of whats still around
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When The World Is Running Down, You Make The Best Of Whats Still Around
Turn on my v.c.r., same one Ive had for years
James brown on the tammy show,
Same tape Ive had for years
I sit in my old car, same one Ive had for years
Old batterys running down, it ran for years and years
Turn on the radio, the static hurts my ears
Tell me, where would I go? I aint been out in years
Turn on the stereo, its played for years and years
An otis redding song, its all I own
When the world is running down
You make the best of whats still around
When the world is running down
You make the best of whats still around
Plug in my m.c.i, to excercise my brain
Make records on my own, cant go out in the rain
Pick up the telephone, Ive listened here for years
No one to talk to me, Ive listened here for years
When the world is running down
You make the best of whats still around
When the world is running down
You make the best of whats still around
When I feel lonely here, dont waste my time with tears
I run deep throat again, it ran for years and years
Dont like the food I eat, the cans are running out
Same food for years and years, I hate the food I eat
When the world is running down
You make the best of whats still around
When the world is running down
You make the best of whats still around
When the world is running down
You make the best of whats still around
When the world is running down
You make the best of whats still around
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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