Like The Meat
The untended vines like the African Slaves,
With fifty-two bottles of wine in the hand;
Of a man's livelihood,
Like fifty-two days of summer for his lover.
When will i see you again?
Of fifty-two roasted chickens in a year;
Please, do not kidnap anyone.
Life lis like that,
And the silver trumpet must be sounded;
Like the first tenth of all our increase.
Do not mistreat a stranger,
Because the living knows much than the dead;
Train yourself with words of peace than war.
Do not steat from your neighbour,
Because the dead know nothing!
You should not destroy fruit tree during times of war,
Of a long hair like a rope for peace;
Let your relatives talk about the best things in life.
Of a short hair,
Like the meat of the consecrated offering;
Do your best at all times.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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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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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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50 Times
5o times i have wailed
as if i have been impaled
now i can see
that its really me
lying on a stick and rope yet this is just a dream a horrid one dang you rope
dirty and devoid of hope
dead with festering wounds and cut
caught in a blood soiled rut
a trench i dug for myself now i lie in it myself
and the trap i laid and put my heart out to shrivel on shelf i now lie in both
o the fey imbroglio namely life so fey
forgive me if i inveigh
in verse and rhyme
but i do such things all the time
more then the fifty deaths imparted unto to me
yes seven, some deaths i accepted happily...
(God saved me from this rut and this living torture and i no longer die a single death nor did i ever actually died i fooled myself)
poem by David Knox
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Did You Ever Think
[1] - Did you ever think that you would be this rich
Did you ever think that you would have these hits
Did you ever think that you would be the don
Have a crib with a fifty acre lawn
Did you ever think that you would be this paid
Were there times when your ass was real afraid
Did you ever think that you would sell out tours
Have a show with fifty million viewers
I used to think about how I was gonna make it
Struggling day to day just trying to get this paper
Hoping the day would come when things would go my way
But now I'm living lavish and all I do is hear them say
[Repeat 1]
Now I've been around the world and seen so many things
Partied in every club nothing but VIP
I never take for granted these luxuries I have
Just try my best to answer all of these questions that I ask
[Repeat 1]
[Repeat 1]
I used to play the game
song performed by by R. Kelly from R
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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Slice The Memories of It
Count on getting your cut,
Of up to fifty percent less.
'Fifty percent less of what? '
You appear to be intelligent.
This figure may cut deeper than you expect.
Remember neglected responsibilities...
Leaves an exquisite taste for spice you like.
Slice the memories of it,
And do something else...
With that bitterness you will be gifted with.
It seems that glamourous nest you lay resting...
To live that fantastic life you treasure and measured.
At the expense of your pretensions?
Count on getting your cut,
Of up to fifty percent less.
'Fifty percent less of what? '
Of nothing left!
My mama use to tell us,
She could not squeeze blood from a turnip!
And she tried very hard to make us believe...
Eating mustard and mayonaisse sandwiches,
Was good for our teeth and made strong bones!
We were also taught we could not have,
What she and my father did not own!
And she connected this to not having money.
To keep our dreams,
But not to waste them on empty wishes.
In other words...
If one sees there is nothing when shown.
It is best to accept it and adapt!
Take and attach your dreams...
On something you know is yours,
That can not be tapped.
Or taken!
Count on getting your cut,
Of up to fifty percent less.
'Fifty percent less of what? '
Of nothing left!
And that depends on where your mind is,
And how it takes being put to a challenging test!
So...
I do enjoy the basicness of the simplisticness I get.
However...
The peace I own was by me financed,
With a dues to pay and tolerance to look denial in the eye.
I'm not about to sacrifice my dignity.
With or without things taken away from me.
I've learned not to expect to have it.
While others were taught...
They were entitled!
I only felt entitled,
When I did not get obsessed with possessions.
To get upset if they should become repossessed.
I've learned not to expect to have it.
While others were taught...
They were entitled!
We were taught to have standards 'we' value.
And not to pursue dreams tossed away like loose change.
Those days are gone.
When the giving was just for the asking...
Without concerns of how the percentage attached may match!
That is your life.
You are about that which is changing fast.
Quicker than an explanation can drip from the lips,
Of thieves.
And the more I think about it...
Subtraction will be a subject you will learn to master!
At least for you...
All will not be a total loss.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fifty Cents A Day
I am an humble Soldier
far from my friends and home,
mid scenes of war and hardships
I constantly must roam,
with many officers over me,
and them I must obey,
and do just what they tell me,
for fifty cents a day.
I enlisted in the army
to help my country's cause,
because I loved it dearly,
and would sustain its laws,
I felt a free man's duty,
his country to obey,
I came not as a hireling,
for fifty cents a day
I enlisted as a soldier.
a free man and a man
To do a soldiers duty,
as best a soldier can.
hope to fight the rebels,
and hate this long delay.
I came to help my country,
for fifty cents a day.
I now must yield to hardships
in cold in storm and rain
perchance with scanty rations
not even then complain
the right of seeking comfort
long since I signed away
my life I am slowly losing
for fifty cents a day.
who send the soldiers to the field
to buy his willing hand,
with promises so plentiful,
of treatment like a man?
twas those who, in two days,
received a larger pay
than does the soldiers in a month
at fifty cents a day
who promised to the soldier,
his wrongs should be redressed
if tyanny or officers
should his right oppress?
alas! the sword may smight him,
or kicked around he may be,
he finds his only redress,
is fifty cents a day
who promised to the soldiers,
if sickness should appear,
good doctors and kind nurses
was ready and was near,
to aid him in his feebleness
as quick as though his pay
was ten times as much
as fifty cents a day.
twas those who wear the shoulder straps
with haughty air of grace,
who look upon the soldier
below the negro race,
who thinks a soldier's duty
is only to obey
his lordship, and be content
with fifty cents a day.
how oft I've seen the soldier,
near tottering to the ground,
seek vainly for some friendly aid,
when it could ne'er be found,
when told he was not ailing,
to go and take his way,
one week would end his suffering
and fifty cents a day.
now, how many of these officers
would be here where they are,
if forced to live like soldiers,
and take a soldier's fare?
how few would take the treatment
even with their liberal pay,
let alone the poor pittance
of fifty cents a day
cheer up my gallant soldiers,
be cheerful, gay, and smile,
we'll do the fighting now,
and the voting after awhile,
and then we'll show oppressors
that they may fell dismay,
who treated us as serviles,
at fifty cents a day.
This poem was written by my great, great, great, grandfather when he was a POW in the civil war. He wrote this during the month of December 1863. I wanted to share this with everyone in memory of him.
poem by Shauna Stoltz
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Willie & The Hand Jive
Way back when in fifty eight
We had a move that move was great
We could walk and stroll and susie q
We could do that crazy hand jive too
Remember a cat called way out willie
A cool cat called rockin billy
Mama said to willie youll ruin my home
And you and that hand jive have got to go
cos he was hand jivin he was hand jivin
He would hand jive day and night hand jive
Willie had a girl called jivin jilly
Inhibitions she didnt have any
Willie would stop jilly kept cryin
To let him do that hand jive one more time
They were hand jivin they were hand jivin
They would hand jive day and night
Hand jive day and night
Willie and jilly got married one fall
They had a little willie junior and thats not all
Little willie got famous and its plain to see
That he did that hand jive on tv
They were hand jivin they were hand jivin
They would hand jive day and night hand jive
Always hand jivin yeah hand jivin
We would hand jive day and night hand jive
I can remember about fifty four
Rocknroll was at my door
Fifty five and elvis was king
Rocknroll was everything
Fifty six fifty seven rocknroll carried me to heaven
And looking in on fifty eight
They opened up that pearly gate
We could rock we could roll
Everyone could do the stroll
Dancin just to stay alive
We all did the crazy hand jive
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Children born today have a fifty-fifty chance of living to 100.
quote by William Greider
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50 Ways To Leave Your Lover
50 ways to leave your lover
Words & music by paul simon
The problem is all inside your head, she said to me
The answer is easy if you take it logically
Id like to help you in your struggle to be free
There must be fifty ways to leave your lover
She said its really not my habit to intrude
Furthermore, I hope my meaning wont be lost or misconstrued
But Ill repeat myself at the risk of being crude
There must be fifty ways to leave your lover
Fifty ways to leave your lover
Just slip out the back, jack
Make a new plan, stan
You dont need to be coy, roy
Just get yourself free
Hop on the bus, gus
You dont need to discuss much
Just drop off the key, lee
And get yourself free
Just slip out the back, jack
Make a new plan, stan
You dont need to be coy, roy
Just listen to me <-----------
Hop on the bus, gus
You dont need to discuss much
Just drop off the key, lee
And get yourself free
She said it grieves me so to see you in such pain
I wish there was something I could do to make you smile again
I said I appreciate that and would you please explain
About the fifty ways
She said why dont we both just sleep on it tonight
And I believe in the morning youll begin to see the light
And then she kissed me and I realized she probably was right
There must be fifty ways to leave your lover
Fifty ways to leave your lover
Just slip out the back, jack
Make a new plan, stan
You dont need to be coy, roy
Just get yourself free
Hop on the bus, gus
You dont need to discuss much
Just drop off the key, lee
And get yourself free
You just slip out the back, jack
Make a new plan, stan
You dont need to be coy, roy
Just listen to me <------------
Hop on the bus, gus
You dont need to discuss much
Just drop off the key, lee
And get yourself free
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Middle age
Life is also a mathematics
number of breaths are counted.
Maths sometimes works on assumption
let's presume the life be hundred.
Mid point of hundred is fifty
that must be the middle age.
Till twenty five we fill up the energy
for perfect propelling in space.
Next twenty five climb the hill
attain the adventurous peak.
After fifty sloping down starts
hill's other side in life's journey.
In childhood god is with you
in old age you search the God.
Remaining period been struggling
of your pitch to become the lord.
In evening of life wait for sunset
visiting doctors or consuming pills.
Own energy is now exhausted
depend on wind like the windmill.
The beauty of the morning and
radiance of noon are till fifty.
after fifty sun starts going down
towards the evening tranquillity.
Between adolescence and old
say between twenty and seventy,
second half of it is heavier so
the balancing point
is
fifty.
(C) S. D. Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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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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Nineteen-Fifty-Two
I wish things were,
the same now, as then,
i wish I was there, instead of here.
In nineteen-fifty-two,
things were simple, and so care-free,
you alway, had something to do
You could see a movie,
or buy, a comic or pop for the price of a dime
everone's favorite saying, was groovie.
Drugs were no problem, at all,
crime also, was very down
young Willie May, was even playing ball.
Children had respect, even for their parents
three-D was really in,
and everyone had good merit's
In nine-teen-fifty-two,
Ike was elected president
and I wasn't feeling blue
I know the past
is gone, you can't go back
time really goes on fast
I wished then, I could've made a forecast
nineteen-fifty-two, only now a memory,
looking back, life has been good, at last.
Be Cool
If theres one rule to this game
Everybodys gonna name
Its, be cool!
If youre worried or uncertain
If your feelings are hurtin
Youre a fool if you cant keep cool
Charm em
Dont alarm em
Keep things light
Keep your worries out of sight
And play it cool
Play it cool
Fifty-fifty
Fire and ice
If your heart is on the floor
Cause youve just seen your lover
Comin through the door with a new fool--
Be cool
Dont get riled
Smile-keep it light
Be your own best friend tonight
And play it cool
Play it cool
Fifty-fifty
Fire and ice
Dont get jealous
Dont get over-zealous
Keep your cool
Dont whine
Kiss of that flaky valentine
Youre nobodys fool
Be cool fool
Be cool
(lots of other fish in the sea)
Play it cool
Play it cool
Fifty-fifty
Fire and ice
So if theres one rule to this game
Everybodys gonna name
Its--be cool
If youre worried or uncertain
If your feelings are hurtin
Youre a fool if you cant keep cool
They want you to
Charm em
Dont alarm em
Keep things light
Keep your worries out of sight
And play it cool
Play it cool
Fifty-fifty
Fire and ice
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There isn't a Holy Week without the fifty days, nor the fifty days without the Sirocco.
57 Channels
I bought a bourgeois house in the hollywood hills
With a truckload of hundred thousand dollar bills
Man came by to hook up my cable tv
We settled in for the night my baby and me
We switched 'round and 'round 'til half-past dawn
There was fifty-seven channels and nothin' on
Well now home entertainment was my baby's wish
So i hopped into town for a satellite dish
I tied it to the top of my japanese car
I came home and i pointed it out into the stars
A message came back from the great beyond
There's fifty-seven channels and nothin' on
Well we might'a made some friends with some billionaires
We might'a got all nice and friendly if we'd made it upstairs
All i got was a note that said "bye-bye john
Our love is fifty-seven channels and nothin' on"
So i bought a .44 magnum it was solid steel cast
And in the blessed name of elvis well i just let it blast
'til my tv lay in pieces there at my feet
And they busted me for disturbing the almighty peace
Judge said "what you got in your defense son?"
"fifty-seven channels and nothin' on"
I can see by your eyes friend you're just about gone
Fifty-seven channels and nothin' on...
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We're kidding on that. One of the things I insisted upon when we went into this project was that we are full partners, going fifty-fifty, both on the money and on the say of what's going on with the books.
quote by Robert Asprin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fifty percent of people won't vote, and fifty percent don't read newspapers. I hope it's the same fifty percent.
quote by Gore Vidal
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The Betrothed
"You must choose between me and your cigar."
-- BREACH OF PROMISE CASE, CIRCA 1885.
Open the old cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout,
For things are running crossways, and Maggie and I are out.
We quarrelled about Havanas -- we fought o'er a good cheroot,
And I knew she is exacting, and she says I am a brute.
Open the old cigar-box -- let me consider a space;
In the soft blue veil of the vapour musing on Maggie's face.
Maggie is pretty to look at -- Maggie's a loving lass,
But the prettiest cheeks must wrinkle, the truest of loves must pass.
There's peace in a Larranaga, there's calm in a Henry Clay;
But the best cigar in an hour is finished and thrown away --
Thrown away for another as perfect and ripe and brown --
But I could not throw away Maggie for fear o' the talk o' the town!
Maggie, my wife at fifty -- grey and dour and old --
With never another Maggie to purchase for love or gold!
And the light of Days that have Been the dark of the Days that Are,
And Love's torch stinking and stale, like the butt of a dead cigar --
The butt of a dead cigar you are bound to keep in your pocket --
With never a new one to light tho' it's charred and black to the socket!
Open the old cigar-box -- let me consider a while.
Here is a mild Manila -- there is a wifely smile.
Which is the better portion -- bondage bought with a ring,
Or a harem of dusky beauties, fifty tied in a string?
Counsellors cunning and silent -- comforters true and tried,
And never a one of the fifty to sneer at a rival bride?
Thought in the early morning, solace in time of woes,
Peace in the hush of the twilight, balm ere my eyelids close,
This will the fifty give me, asking nought in return,
With only a Suttee's passion -- to do their duty and burn.
This will the fifty give me. When they are spent and dead,
Five times other fifties shall be my servants instead.
The furrows of far-off Java, the isles of the Spanish Main,
When they hear my harem is empty will send me my brides again.
I will take no heed to their raiment, nor food for their mouths withal,
So long as the gulls are nesting, so long as the showers fall.
I will scent 'em with best vanilla, with tea will I temper their hides,
And the Moor and the Mormon shall envy who read of the tale of my brides.
For Maggie has written a letter to give me my choice between
The wee little whimpering Love and the great god Nick o' Teen.
And I have been servant of Love for barely a twelvemonth clear,
But I have been Priest of Cabanas a matter of seven year;
And the gloom of my bachelor days is flecked with the cheery light
Of stums that I burned to Friendship and Pleasure and Work and Fight.
And I turn my eyes to the future that Maggie and I must prove,
But the only light on the marshes is the Will-o'-the-Wisp of Love.
Will it see me safe through my journey or leave me bogged in the mire?
Since a puff of tobacco can cloud it, shall I follow the fitful fire?
Open the old cigar-box -- let me consider anew --
Old friends, and who is Maggie that I should abandon you?
A million surplus Maggies are willing to bear the yoke;
And a woman is only a woman, but a good Cigar is a Smoke.
Light me another Cuba -- I hold to my first-sworn vows.
If Maggie will have no rival, I'll have no Maggie for Spouse!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Dead End
Well easily with me I show affection,
But it's a creepin up, a creepin up on me in another direction
I love, I write, and I die
And I try to ask no questions,
But the weary one is still me,
Do you think its obsession?
The smoke will find you a choker that matches your coat, not fit to be tied
The mirror it makes it all clearer as you stand alone and cant see your behind
Yea
They tried to tell me I could say that nobody could believe this
Well they tried to tell me I could say nobody could achieve this
The way you stayed of, locked away of
Keeping the flame for yourself,
The way you stayed of, pushin the blame of, reaping the fame for yourself
Oh well, it's a, it's a, dead end
It's a dead end
Oh, it's a dead end lonely day,
Say it's a dead end
It's a, it's a, it's a, it's a, it's a dead end day
It's a dead end oh day
And it's a long way, a long way down,
Hey well it's a long way, a long way down
Change is coming a baby,
Don't be startled lady
Every once in a while they do it again
You gonna shake it, shake it,
You know you wanna take it
Back to where you once belonged,
Back beneath the sheets and between the pillow cases
And the snake he races out and he, he tangles into your hair
Funny the fruits you choose
Oh the time you take, the words you loose
And it all goes back to rotation over the back of your hand
Oh the back of your hand, oh the back of your hand
Oh the map is your hand,
it's the back of your hand, the back of your hand
say the back of your hand, oh the map is your hand, it's the back of your hand
stop whining all the time,
don't you find a little secret to yourself always saved your life,
stop listening to the words that you've heard
no one else but yourself will agree with you more
that it's a long, long way
it's a long, long way
and it's a long, long way, a long way down
hey, and it's a long way down,
and it's a lo- oh- oh- ng way down
hey, hey, hey, and it's a long, long, long, long way down,
say say, SCATS
and it's a lo- oh- oh- ng way down, hey and it's a long way dooooown
it's a dead end
it's a dead end oh
it's a dead end lonely day
it's a, it's a dead end
It's a, it's a, it's a, it's a, it's a dead end day
It's a dead end oh day
song performed by by Jason Mraz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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