On My Thirty-Third Birthday, January 22, 1821
Through life's dull road, so dim and dirty,
I have dragg'd to three-and-thirty.
What have these years left to me?
Nothing--except thirty-three.
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To Mrs. Thrale on Her Completing Her Thirty-fifth Year
Oft in danger, yet alive,
We are come to thirty-five;
Long may better years arrive,
Better years than thirty-five.
Could philosophers contrive
Life to stop at thirty-five,
Time his hours should never drive
O'er the bounds of thirty-five
High to soar, and deep to dive,
Nature gives at thirty-five.
Ladies, stop and tend your hive,
Trifle not at thirty-five;
For, howe'er we boast and strive,
Life declines from thirty-five:
He that ever hopes to thrive
Must begin by thirty-five:
And all who wisely wish to wive
Must look on Thrale at thirty-five.
poem by Samuel Johnson
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My Next Thirty Years
(track 12 - time 3:37)
(phil vassar)
I think Ill take a moment, celebrate my age
The ending of an era and the turning of a page
Now its time to focus in on where I go from here
Lord have mercy on my next thirty years
Hey my next thirty years Im gonna have some fun
Try to forget about all the crazy things Ive done
Maybe now Ive conquered all my adolescent fears
And Ill do it better in my next thirty years
My next thirty years Im gonna settle all the scores
Cry a little less, laugh a little more
Find a world of happiness without the hate and fear
Figure out just what Im doing here
In my next thirty years
Oh my next thirty years, Im gonna watch my weight
Eat a few more salads and not stay up so late
Drink a little lemonade and not so many beers
Maybe Ill remember my next thirty years
My next thirty years will be the best years of my life
Raise a little family and hang out with my wife
Spend precious moments with the ones that I hold dear
Make up for lost time here, in my next thirty years
In my next thirty years
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The headlight emvnxw
The headlight of a car
Can throw light not afar
But, say, thirty yards.
With that in a pitch dark road
One can drive miles and miles.
The next thirty yard road
Will unfold while the first
Thirty yards are covered.
The next thirty yard road
Will unfold when the second
Thirty yards are covered.
Faith is a headlight
With which one is endowed
To tread in the world
Which is pitch-dark by itself.
26.07.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Yeah I'm thirty-six, but on the show I'm thirty-two. Nobody wants to watch a thirty-six year old woman, so they decided to make me thirty-two. Much more appealing somehow.
quote by Ellen DeGeneres
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Thirty three years
Thirty three years
~
Soon I turn thirty three
And wonder what I have to show
I feel I have achieved very little
And have been going nowhere fast
I fear I am stuck in my ways
And this is my lot for life
I sit alone in writing this morning
With my usual coffee for one
I have loved, had my heart broken
Let opportunities slip away
Now I tend to do nothing
At least I wont feel hurt that way
I have spent time in solitary
And lost touch with the world
Please try and remember that
To excuse my lack of social grace
The pace of each year is picking up
While I am still young in some eyes
Still may yet have a lot to achieve
I look at the past thirty two years
And see myself an old man
Lonely and turning thirty three
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Thirty Dirty Birds
Thirty dirty birds
Sitting on a curb
Chirping and Burping
And eating
Dirty earthworms
Along comes Herbie
From thirty-third
And third
Saw the thirty
Dirty birds
Sitting on a curb
Chirping and Burping
And eating
Dirty earthworms
Boy he was
Disturbed
song performed by by Red Hot Chili Peppers from Freaky Styley
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A Few Blocks Away From Thirty-Five
Your name must be Heather?
Because your face,
Seems locked into a jeer.
As if bad weather...
Has left you more than moised.
Your name must be Heather?
You must have been expecting someone,
Dressed in leather?
Or silk...
With a smooth grin.
Your name must be Heather,
The one who claims to have matched my profile...
With an unleashing of my wildest dreams.
But Heather?
You are a few years older than nineteen.
And it has been a long time,
Since I was a rich man at thirty-two!
That was thirty-one years ago, Heather.
And I am sure back then,
You were all of twenty-two.
Your name must be Heather?
Because your face,
Seems locked into a jeer.
As if bad weather...
Has left you more than moised.
You can unthaw in here.
You don't have to look as if you are shocked!
Yes,
You are correct.
This 'is' my natural voice.
And I am a few blocks away from thirty-five.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Shaved
He had wore a beard every since his early teens.
It had been at least thirty years since anyone saw him without it.
For those thirty years he felt he had something to hide.
But yesterday he shaved and freed himself from the thirty year mask he had been wearing.
He said it feels good to no longer have that itchy heavy beard weighing him down.
Yesterday he shaved when he finally told everyone he is gay.
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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I'm thirty years old, but I read at the thirty-four-year-old level.
quote by Dana Carvey
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Shimshon
To have thirty sons and thirty daughters from your many wives,
Like the customs of a bride;
To have forty sons and thirty grandsons in your life,
Like the customs of a bridegroom;
But, out of love came something so sweet.
Yo are barren but now you will conceive and bear a son,
Like the dreadlocks of Shimshon!
But my best friend had taken my wife away.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Land Of Hope And Glory
Urrrrh
What's the time?
I was trying to get some sleep
Attention, urrraaah, bridges
Sharkey, Nutley, Jackson, Thompson,Master
Well, as you can see we've got a new recruit to this land of hope and glory
Hands behind backs and legs apart and tell us all of your unfortunate story.
Who me sir?
Yes, you ssssir!
I was an innocent man till someone grassed me of a plan
Of earning some big a money
If I hadn't mouthed it about, I am sure without doubt
I'd 'ave missed this land of hope and glory
Well you poor poor sod, here you're up sharp at six thirty
Cold shower down to breakfast, can't have you looking dirty
I suggest you eat what's given you even if it doesn't agree with you
Cos It's all you're be getting up until twelve thirty
In between this time stay up in your room, you can dream of life
good things
Two years of my teen age life given to this stand to attention life
Of land of hope and glory
I get so bored as time goes by, I think I'll do something dirty
I pick at the floor for juicy butts and I'll make myself a smoke
A bog roll and envelope stick it, all this helps to pass my time
As the evening drags on, you can watch a little telly
Hot Gossip pans people with a little bit of belly
A hot drink served cold with the heat of yesterday's
Don't complain learn the game and I'll get through another day
I watch the second hand on the clock at long last is nine thirty
Off to bed straight to sleep as I leave this land of hope and glory
But only for a few seconds I'm in n ecstasy
Before the bell rings to let me know, sharp at six thirty
A the, a two, a six, a ta
Quiet, come on you lot, come on, lights out
song performed by by Madness
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Mourning Anniversary
After all these years
thirty years
thirty years and more.
The emptiness the loneliness
cries I love you more.
I held you once
only once
more than thirty years ago.
And then my love
my only love I had to let you go.
But my heart had seen
my eyes had seen
the only true love for me.
When you walked
away my love.
You turned not back
to look at me.
A single embrace
just one embrace
is all that’s let to me.
A single embrace
just one embrace
second never again to be.
And no one cries for me.
No one cries for me.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Thirty-five is a very attractive age. London society is full of women of the highest birth who have, of their own free choice, remained thirty-five for years.
quote by Oscar Wilde
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Thirty-five is a very attractive age. London society is full of women of the very highest birth who have, of their own free choice, remained thirty-five for years.
quote by Oscar Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mummys Boy
In the pub, about seven thirty
Mother makes sure that his face aint dirty
Him and mother go everywhere
Holds her hand without a care
Lived with mother for fourty years
The neighbourhood said that he must be queer
Normal folk just aint like that
Glad he cant hear behind his back
When mother dies, he will have a cry
cos hell be on his own
Hes frightened stiff, would it come to this?
Will he lose her to the heavenly home?
In the pub, about seven thirty
Mother makes sure that his face aint dirty
Him and mother go everywhere
Holds her hand without a care
Lived with mother for fourty years
The neighbourhood said that he must be queer
Normal folk just aint like that
Glad he cant hear behind his back
When mother dies, hell have a cry
cos hell be on his own
Hes frightened stiff, would it come to this?
Will he lose her to the heavenly home?
Once went out with a london girl
Dirty weekend in a hotel
Broke it off when she got shirty
She was twelve and he was thirty
Right after that he was dead sore
He wouldnt go out with girls no more
From that day since, he never has
He wants to do something dirty
song performed by by Madness
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The Date Of Christmas DaY
The Date Of Christmas DaY
A.D.Four plus thirty-three= A.D.Thirty-seven.
The millineum year Two Thousand Thirty Seven has not yet occured.
Inn mye humble opinion never will it ever bee.
Iff Christ was born in September Thirty-Seven,
we should have Christmas on September Three.
December TwentY-fifth is the dead works day of druids.
They still dance the maypole day in May.
May ONE could be the birthday of GODS son.
The time is tricky anyway after more than a few years.
Everything gets blurry after way too many beers.
The moral of this story just accept that it was done.
This Christmas try to worship on December Twenty-One.
Drink less eggnogg and have more FUN.
On this millineum day in Nineteen Fifty-Four;
Eye was not yet one year Young.
poem by Charles Hice
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A Lady Who Thinks She Is Thirty
Unwillingly Miranda wakes,
Feels the sun with terror,
One unwilling step she takes,
Shuddering to the mirror.
Miranda in Miranda's sight
Is old and gray and dirty;
Twenty-nine she was last night;
This morning she is thirty.
Shining like the morning star,
Like the twilight shining,
Haunted by a calendar,
Miranda is a-pining.
Silly girl, silver girl,
Draw the mirror toward you;
Time who makes the years to whirl
Adorned as he adored you.
Time is timelessness for you;
Calendars for the human;
What's a year, or thirty, to
Loveliness made woman?
Oh, Night will not see thirty again,
Yet soft her wing, Miranda;
Pick up your glass and tell me, then--
How old is Spring, Miranda?
poem by Ogden Nash
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Thirty-nine
O hapless day! O wretched day!
I hoped you'd pass me by--
Alas, the years have sneaked away
And all is changed but I!
Had I the power, I would remand
You to a gloom condign,
But here you've crept upon me and
I--I am thirty-nine!
Now, were I thirty-five, I could
Assume a flippant guise;
Or, were I forty years, I should
Undoubtedly look wise;
For forty years are said to bring
Sedateness superfine;
But thirty-nine don't mean a thing--
À bas with thirty-nine!
You healthy, hulking girls and boys,--
What makes you grow so fast?
Oh, I'll survive your lusty noise--
I'm tough and bound to last!
No, no--I'm old and withered too--
I feel my powers decline
(Yet none believes this can be true
Of one at thirty-nine).
And you, dear girl with velvet eyes,
I wonder what you mean
Through all our keen anxieties
By keeping sweet sixteen.
With your dear love to warm my heart,
Wretch were I to repine;
I was but jesting at the start--
I'm glad I'm thirty-nine!
So, little children, roar and race
As blithely as you can,
And, sweetheart, let your tender grace
Exalt the Day and Man;
For then these factors (I'll engage)
All subtly shall combine
To make both juvenile and sage
The one who's thirty-nine!
Yes, after all, I'm free to say
I would much rather be
Standing as I do stand to-day,
'Twixt devil and deep sea;
For though my face be dark with care
Or with a grimace shine,
Each haply falls unto my share,
For I am thirty-nine!
'Tis passing meet to make good cheer
And lord it like a king,
Since only once we catch the year
That doesn't mean a thing.
O happy day! O gracious day!
I pledge thee in this wine--
Come, let us journey on our way
A year, good Thirty-Nine!
poem by Eugene Field
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Thirty-five is a very attractive age. London society is full of women of the very highest birth who have, of their own free choice, remained thirty-five for years.
Oscar Wilde in The Importance of Being Earnest
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