No Longer At Ease
It is time for me today to eat my 'Omu-Tuo';
But, the wind came blowing across my face! !
And, i am no longer at ease.
Romance and love,
All tangled up with fresh ideas!
But, the lust of the flesh is all that is seen around;
However, i am now walking along the narrow path with hope.
Twenty from twenty-nine and,
Sixteen from thirty-six! !
With things falling apart for me to think about the future;
So, do mind about what you eat and what you wear.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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When I Grow Up
When i grow up to be a man
Will i dig the same things that turn me on as a kid?
Will i look back and say that i wish i hadn't done what i did?
Will i joke around and still dig those sounds
When i grow up to be a man?
Will i look for the same things in a woman that i dig in a girl?
(fourteen fifteen)
Will i settle down fast or will i first wanna travel the world?
(sixteen seventeen)
Now i'm young and free, but how will it be
When i grow up to be a man?
Oooooo ooooooo oooooooo
Will my kids be proud or think their old man is really a square?
(eighteen nineteen)
When they're out having fun yeah, will i still wanna have my share?
(twenty twenty-one)
Will i love my wife for the rest of my life
When i grow up to be a man?
What will i be when i grow up to be a man?
(twenty-two twenty-three)
Won't last forever
(twenty-four twenty-five)
It's kind of sad
(twenty-six twenty-seven)
Won't last forever
(twenty-eight twenty-nine)
It's kind of sad
(thirty thirty-one)
Won't last forever
(thirty-two...)
song performed by by Beach Boys

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I Grew Up
When I grow up to be a man
Will I dig the same things that turn me on as a kid?
Will I look back and say that I wish I hadnt done what I did?
Will I joke around and still dig those sounds
When I grow up to be a man?
Will I look for the same things in a woman that I dig in a girl?
(fourteen fifteen)
Will I settle down fast or will I first wanna travel the world?
(sixteen seventeen)
Now Im young and free, but how will it be
When I grow up to be a man?
Oooooo ooooooo oooooooo
Will my kids be proud or think their old man is really a square?
(eighteen nineteen)
When theyre out having fun yeah, will I still wanna have my share?
(twenty twenty-one)
Will I love my wife for the rest of my life
When I grow up to be a man?
What will I be when I grow up to be a man?
(twenty-two twenty-three)
Wont last forever
(twenty-four twenty-five)
Its kind of sad
(twenty-six twenty-seven)
Wont last forever
(twenty-eight twenty-nine)
Its kind of sad
(thirty thirty-one)
Wont last forever
(thirty-two...)
song performed by by Beach Boys

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Twenty Lines
I just read this poem about using just twenty lines,
and it brought these words to my mind.
Who are they to tell us how many lines we should use to speak?
This is America where we have a law known as freedom of speech.
Just twenty lines tell you something about my life in words.
To me that seem completely absurd.
My life is much more than just twenty lines.
Hell I am thirty nine.
And if they except me to sum up thirty nine years in twenty lines
They are complete outside their minds.
How am I suppose to tell you how I nearly died when I was child?
Or how my mother harsh words took away my smile:
In just twenty lines?
Like I said they must be out of their minds.
I guest I can do if I shorten my life.
I don't have to talk about how much I love my future wife.
But her love is the inspiration for a lot of my poems.
So to not talk about her would be wrong.
I have a lot more to say but I'm out of time.
I reach my limit of my twenty lines.
With every step we take
Twenty miles, then twenty miles,
then twenty miles again.
We’ll keep on walking, day by day,
towards breast cancer’s end.
With every step, with every stair,
We train to walk this path
To raise the funds to fight the beast
And consign it to the past..
It will be hot, It may be wet
As we traverse the miles
and when we rest, beneath the stars,
We’ll sleep like stones awhile
With every step, with every mile
We’re walking towards a cure
And we would walk a thousand miles
To end its’ reign for sure..
If not in time for one we loved
Perhaps in time for others-
So many suffer scars or worse
where death’s dark angel hovers.
Twenty miles, then twenty miles,
then twenty miles again.
We’ll keep on walking, day by day,
towards breast cancer’s end.
poem by John F. McCullagh

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Twenty-First Century Romance
They check out your sign…., help you combine….,
While you’re taking a chance….,
In cyberspace, with virtual satin and lace…,
This could be the start of a Twenty-First Century Romance.
When Cupid takes aim…., it won’t be in vain…,
You’ll share the ultimate dance….,
With no firewall, you’ll have a ball….,
This could be the start of a Twenty-First Century Romance....! ! !
No matter where you are…, love’s magic creates a trance…,
From the heart of New York City to Naples, maybe even Paris, France.....,
This could be the start of a Twenty-First Century Romance….,
Yes, this could be the start of a Twenty-First Century Romance.
poem by Trade Martin

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Twenty Million Things
If it's fix a fence, find the dance
I got lots of experience
Read got sped and all the letters
Never written but don't get said
Comes from confusion
All the things I left undone
It comes from moment to moment,
Day to day, time seems to slip away
But I got twenty million things to do
Twenty million things
All I can think about is you
Well, twenty million things,
Twenty million things to do
I got mysterious,
Mysterious hanging in the air
Rocking-chair hast post to fix
Well it came undid and all the things
That I let slip I found out quick
It comes from moment to moment
Day to day and time seems to slip away
But I got twenty million things to do
Twenty million things
All I can think about is you
And twenty million, twenty million things to do
song performed by by Robert Palmer

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Twenty-Four Plus One More
How I love twenty-five
From her hips to her lips
How I worship twenty-five
From her nose to her dainty toes
I love twenty-five
From her eyes to her thighs
I really love twenty-five
From her hair to everywhere
I admire twenty-five
From her footwear to her underwear
I live for twenty-five
Seven days twenty-four she I adore
I love and desire my twenty-five
From her hands to her fingers she’s a winner
Twenty-five is the answer to all my payers
She’s as refreshing as pure spring waters
Twenty-five has a beautiful face
The curves of her behind right down to her waistline
She is slim and neat and likes to keep things discrete
She has a great body dressed her best never gaudy
Twenty-five is so dam sexy
She’s so sweet and foxy
Twenty-five is one of the world’s most natural beauties
Can’t wait to see her booty in her panties
I love her purple, white, and black sweater
I some how know how to make her feel better
I truly love gregarious twenty-five
She is the reason I stay alive
Sweetness I find in twenty-five
In her love I can thrive
She is every beat of my heart
By the hands Michael Angelo, she’s truly a work of art
I’d give her the world if I could
In my arms to stay she should
She is like symphony from Mozart
She is love and my sweetheart
I was in love at first sight
She makes me feel that everything will be alright
Twenty-five loves her some penguins
If only down she would lay all her burdens
I love her more and more each day than the day before
Sadly I am no more than her mentor
She needs not ask me why if she leaves me I’d die
On me my love twenty-five can always rely
Whenever she’s so far away I count the nights and days
I love twenty-five and all of her beautiful ways
I do love my twenty-five
Without her love I can’t survive
I idolize you my exquisite twenty-five
I beg you to take my love on a test-drive
I love you till the end of everything
I will save you from the pain you’re battling
I just love you so much gorgeous twenty-five
I love you ravishing twenty-five
My only wish is just one kiss
I love you, I love you, and I love you twenty-five
poem by Wilfred Mellers

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Free, Male, & Twenty-one
Were free
Were male
Were twenty-one
Free, male, and twenty-one
Free, male, and twenty-one
Its not enough to be twenty-one and free
Its not the same as male and twenty-one
Free, male, and twenty-one
This is such a fine distinction
The career that weve begun
I just made twenty-one
Im old enough to run
For congressman or clerk of the public works
Or dogcatcher or something just as dumb
If I should choose to run
I make no exaggeration
Just a statement of the facts
Now Im second generation
And I am manly to the max
And no one can decree
Just who I have to be
The choice is up to me
And if I could be anything, Id be
Male and twenty-one
Its nice to be a man
I use it all I can
I never had a choice for a higher voice
But I have to say Im glad to be a man
Since this is what I am
Sigmund freud may have a crisis
With his own identity
But theres nothing wrong with me
Because I enjoy being a boy
And all that it will say upon my resume
Free, male, and twenty-one
Free, male, and twenty-one
Free, male, and twenty-one
Free, male, and twenty-one
If I could change
Change anything, everything
Everything in the world
Then I would make
Half of the world
Free, male, and twenty-one
Free, male, and twenty-one
Free, male, and twenty-one
And I dont believe in heaven
What a let down it would be
And I hope theres not a hell
But there must be a God cause he made me
Free, male, and twenty-one
Theres got to be a God cause he made me
Male and twenty-one
Free, male, and twenty-one
song performed by by Todd Rundgren

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Game of Fives
Five little girls, of Five, Four, Three, Two, One:
Rolling on the hearthrug, full of tricks and fun.
Five rosy girls, in years from Ten to Six:
Sitting down to lessons - no more time for tricks.
Five growing girls, from Fifteen to Eleven:
Music, Drawing, Languages, and food enough for seven!
Five winsome girls, from Twenty to Sixteen:
Each young man that calls, I say "Now tell me which you mean!"
Five dashing girls, the youngest Twenty-one:
But, if nobody proposes, what is there to be done?
Five showy girls - but Thirty is an age
When girls may be engaging, but they somehow don't engage.
Five dressy girls, of Thirty-one or more:
So gracious to the shy young men they snubbed so much before!
Five passe girls - Their age? Well, never mind!
We jog along together, like the rest of human kind:
But the quondam "careless bachelor" begins to think he knows
The answer to that ancient problem "how the money goes"!
poem by Lewis Carroll from Phantasmagoria and Other Poems

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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It has just been twenty-three years since I began to wander. In the next twenty-three years I wonder if there will come a time when life is no longer a wonderful adventure; when there is not some interesting experience in things or personalities waiting just around the corner. If that time does come, I hope that my release will be swift.
Roy Chapman Andrews in Ends of the Earth (1929)

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Survive
Written by John Mellencamp
Go on and admit it
You can't take it anymore
So why don't you quit it
Your scratching off again
Can't you see it
Well the whole thing was such a surprise
I know you and your hear crazy notions
Your pretty girls and no devotions
Down by the ocean middle class
Down by the gulf side, you let it all slide
But now your saying that you don't
wanna be a sixteen year old girl, aah
But you don't want to turn twenty-five
You never ever, you never ever lied,
where you been, aahh
You got to survive to keep yourself alive,
yeah-ah, yeah
It ain't no big deal if your attitude is wrong
and you don't know how you feel
You just cop someone else's ideas
and masturbate yourself, make them your own
Well I, I don't mean to tell you what to do
cause I've scratched off myself a time or two
Well it just leaves you blue, with nothing to do
And they think I'm crazy when I stay up all weekend
But now your saying that you don't
wanna be a sixteen year old girl, oh yeah, aah
But you don't want to turn twenty-five
You never ever, you never ever lied
where you been, aahh
You got to survive to keep yourself alive
yeah-ah, my na na no, yeah
So if I'm walking down the street and you see me
Don't walk on by, say hey man
you know your looking, your looking so fine
You don't have to mean it, no no
Its just one of the regular lies that we've lived with
And this is a love song and
I'm writing it just to survive
song performed by by John Mellencamp

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Chronicles of A New Day part 1 5 years from now
5 years from now forgotten
maybe after so much time
out of the cage out of the pen
no longer trapped by word and rhyme
childish infatuations all but forgotten all gone away
no more saying this day how fey!
only today
here we... w...
at this time i ask how
could i get to this here and now where memories fade
where debts are paid
love songs forgotten away with the wind
now blowing blowing forgotten feeling blowing farther
is this my future?
poem by David Knox

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If a woman tells you she's twenty and looks sixteen, she's twelve. If she tells you she's twenty-six and looks twenty-six, she's damn near fourty.
quote by Chris Rock

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Café Comedy
She
I'm waiting for the man I hope to wed.
I've never seen him - that's the funny part.
I promised I would wear a rose of red,
Pinned on my coat above my fluttered heart,
So that he'd know me - a precaution wise,
Because I wrote him I was twenty-three,
And Oh such heaps and heaps of silly lies. . .
So when we meet what will he think of me?
It's funny, but it has its sorry side;
I put an advert. in the evening Press:
"A lonely maiden fain would be a bride."
Oh it was shameless of me, I confess.
But I am thirty-nine and in despair,
Wanting a home and children ere too late,
And I forget I'm no more young and fair -
I'll hide my rose and run...No, no, I'll wait.
An hour has passed and I am waiting still.
I ought to feel relieved, but I'm so sad.
I would have liked to see him, just to thrill,
And sigh and say: "There goes my lovely lad!
My one romance!" Ah, Life's malign mishap!
"Garcon, a cafè creme." I'll stay till nine. . .
The cafè's empty, just an oldish chap
Who's sitting at the table next to mine. . .
He
I'm waiting for the girl I mean to wed.
She was to come at eight and now it's nine.
She'd pin upon her coat a rose of red,
And I would wear a marguerite in mine.
No sign of her I see...It's true my eyes
Need stronger glasses than the ones I wear,
But Oh I feel my heart would recognize
Her face without the rose - she is so fair.
Ah! what deceivers are we aging men!
What vanity keeps youthful hope aglow!
Poor girl! I sent a photo taken when
I was a student, twenty years ago.
(Hers is so Springlike, Oh so blossom sweet!)
How she will shudder when she sees me now!
I think I'd better hide that marguerite -
How can I age and ugliness avow?
She does not come. It's after nine o'clock.
What fools we fogeys are! I'll try to laugh;
(Garcon, you might bring me another bock)
Falling in love, just from a photograph.
Well, that's the end. I'll go home and forget,
Then realizing I am over ripe
I'll throw away this silly cigarette
And philosophically light my pipe.
* * * * *
The waiter brought the coffee and the beer,
And there they sat, so woe-begone a pair,
And seemed to think: "Why do we linger here?"
When suddenly they turned, to start and stare.
She spied a marguerite, he glimpsed a rose;
Their eyes were joined and in a flash they knew. . .
The sleepy waiter saw, when time to close,
The sweet romance of those deceiving two,
Whose lips were joined, their hearts, their future too.
poem by Robert William Service

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Ten Grey hairs and a silver one
I discovered my first grey hair
when I was Seventeen years old
It had to do with broken up my first relationship
I discovered my second grey hair
when I was Twenty years old
It had to do with the quarrels at home
I discovered my third grey hair
when I was Twenty-one years old
It had to do with searching for work
I discovered my fourth grey hair
when I was Twenty-three years old
It had to do with loosing my job
I discovered my fifth grey hair
when I was Twenty-five years old
It had to do with giving up my unborn child
I discovered my sixth grey hair
When I was Twenty-eight years old
It had to do with opening my pub
I discovered my seventh grey hair
When I was thirty years old
It had to do with giving birth to my daughter
I discovered my eight grey hair
When I was thirty –two years old
It had to do with the first day at the kinder garden school
I discovered my ninth grey hair
When I was thirty-four years old
It had to do with to find out that some thing was missing
I discovered my tenth grey hair
When I was thirty-five years old
It had to do with the fights between my sisters and mum
My one Silver hair I discovered lately
Has to do with you
Because I miss you so hard …
poem by Pascale Ost

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Twenty Four
Twenty four oceans
Twenty four skies
Twenty four failures
Twenty four tries
Twenty four finds me
In twenty-fourth place
Twenty four drop outs
At the end of the day
Life is not what I thought it was
Twenty four hours ago
Still I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with You
And I'm not who I thought I was twenty four hours ago
Still I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with You
Twenty four reasons to admit that Im wrong
With all my excuses still twenty four strong
See I'm not copping out not copping out not copping out
When You're raising the dead in me
Oh, oh I am the second man
Oh, oh I am the second man now
Oh, oh I am the second man now
And You're raising these twenty four voices
With twenty four hearts
With all of my symphonies
In twenty four parts
But I wan to be one today
Centered and true
I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with You
You're raising the dead in me
Oh, oh I am the second man
Oh, oh I am the second man now
Oh, oh I am the second man now
And You're raising the dead in me
I want to see miracles, see the world change
Wrestled the angel, for more than a name
For more than a feeling
For more than a cause
I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with You
And You're raising the dead in me
Twenty four voices
With twenty four hearts
With all of my symphonies
In twenty four parts.
I'm not copping out. Not copping out. Not copping out.
song performed by by Switchfoot

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twenty Years
There are twenty years to go
Twenty ways to know
Who'll wear
Who'll wear the hat
There are twenty years to go
The best of all I hope
Enjoy the ride
The medicine show
Thems the breaks
For we designer fakes
We need to concentrate on more than meets the eye
There are twenty years to go
The faithful and the low
The best of starts, the broken heart, the stone
There are twenty years to go
The punch-drunk and the blow
The worst of starts, the mercy part, the foam
Thems the breaks
Before we designer fakes
We need to concentrate on more than meets the eye
Thems the breaks
Before we designer fakes
But it's you I take cos you're the truth, not I
There are twenty years to go
A golden age I know
But all will pass and end too fast you know
There are twenty years to go
And many friends I hope
Though some may hold the rose
Some hold the rope
That's the end - and that's the start of it
That's the whole - and that's the part of it
That's the high - and that's the heart of it
That's the long - and that's the short of it
That's the best - and that's the test in it
That's the doubt - the doubt, the trust in it
That's the sight - and that's the sound of it
That's the gift - and that's the trick in it
You're the truth, not I
You're the truth, not I
You're the truth, not I
You're the truth, not I
You're the truth, not I
You're the truth, not I
You're the truth, not I
You're the truth, not I
song performed by by Placebo

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There is a difference between twenty-nine and thirty. When you are twenty-nine it can be the beginning of everything. When you are thirty it can be the end of everything.
quote by Gertrude Stein

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Magic of Numbers
The Magic of Numbers—1
How strange it was to hear the furniture being moved around in the apartment upstairs!
I was twenty-six, and you were twenty-two.
The Magic of Numbers—2
You asked me if I wanted to run, but I said no and walked on.
I was nineteen, and you were seven.
The Magic of Numbers—3
Yes, but does X really like us?
We were both twenty-seven.
The Magic of Numbers—4
You look like Jerry Lewis (1950).
The Magic of Numbers—5
Grandfather and grandmother want you to go over to their house for dinner.
They were sixty-nine, and I was two and a half.
The Magic of Numbers—6
One day when I was twenty-nine years old I met you and nothing happened.
The Magic of Numbers—7
No, of course it wasn’t I who came to the library!
Brown eyes, flushed cheeks, brown hair. I was twenty-nine, and you were sixteen.
The Magic of Numbers—8
After we made love one night in Rockport I went outside and kissed the road
I felt so carried away. I was twenty-three, and you were nineteen.
The Magic of Numbers—9
I was twenty-nine, and so were you. We had a very passionate time.
Everything I read turned into a story about you and me, and everything I did was turned into a poem.
“The Magic of Numbers” from The Collected Poems of Kenneth Koch, published by Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. Copyright © 2006 by Kenneth Koch.
poem by Kenneth Koch

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A lot of times Mick will play me different things, or I'll listen to a cassette, and out of twenty ideas or whatever, I'll find two or three that are just blowing me away, and we'll start working on them right away.