My Mind Has More of a Youthfulness
Everyday...
This aging 'thing' seems to speed.
Some agitate their way through it.
Reminding themselves,
Nothing about this process
For them is welcomed!
And they are not pleased,
By anything it leaves.
And as I reflect,
Doing my best to accept this process...
I must admit,
Some of it I am not in total agreement with myself.
Although I go through the motions,
I am doing it with much ease!
Okay! I must say...
Sometimes I do get a bit perturbed and upset.
Especially when someone yells, 'Hey, grandpa.
Do you need assistance to cross the street? '
I grit my teeth with a fake smile I release.
Hmmm...
Is it noticeable,
My gait appears to be slower and more noble?
Everyday...
This aging 'thing' seems to speed!
And I sit on a nearby bench,
To gather my breath and gently breathe.
Wishing the aches and pains that come with aging...
I could put to rest.
Knowing my mind has more of a youthfulness,
That my body, on certain days...
Could care less what my mind forgets!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Witnessing As I Live
I have never before been given the opportunity,
To rehearse the process of aging.
Some would have others believe,
They are gifted with the expertise.
And already know what it is like.
I don't.
I am witnessing as I live my life...
With a wisdom I have never known.
And mysterious aches I feel in my bones,
As if done to remind me...
'Something' seeks attention and wishes it shown.
I have never before been given the opportunity,
To rehearse the process of aging.
But I must admit,
The process is interesting.
Although...
Being around those who announce their pains,
Is more aggravating than anything else.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Your Visit With Aging
I don't know why,
You believed I was older than you.
I use to be.
But you and aging have become much closer.
And it seems as if you have been convinced,
To interpret every year you have lived as a struggle.
I'm not trying to interpret my life that way at all.
When aging came to visit me,
I told it to make itself at home.
And if I choose to do what I please...
I'm not making an effort to be rude.
But neither am I going to sit with it to reminisced,
The good old days.
Too much everyday for me is new!
And...
I didn't feel I had to excuse myself from it to explore.
I just do.
You on the other hand...
Seem to want to impress aging,
As a depiction you believe is an acceptable process.
Hey,
We all have our interpretations.
However...
Yours appears to be a bit exaggerated.
But I aint mad at you!
What your visit with aging is like.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Stages
First of all...
I know it's not just all about me.
Only in my mind I am told.
And that seems to be aging rapidly!
As a glowing youth...
Dims to be conquered,
By an aging truth!
Overnight it seems.
Although many may refuse to agree with me.
Those into appearances and physicalities!
I am not one to be talking about looks...
But let me say this,
No pages flipped through books
Prepares anyone for the stages of aging.
Or when to apply a night cheek lift!
To become disappointed with the results,
That sit unresisting to stay for a long visit!
Compliments on maintaining a youthfulness,
Stirs those in doubt about what is really meant...
By those unsolicited comments sent!
But pleased to get them without resentment.
There are those who may defy this process.
But when it noticibly starts...
A feeling of achievement begins to arrive,
Or a time gone by so quickly is realized!
Which gets many into denial fits!
Horrified that the time has come...
And that they too can not escape from this!
When a passing glance in a mirror,
Becomes a lingering stare...
What is seen is obvious.
And we all must become aware...
An aging has taken place,
To stay on one's face...
Not to go anywhere,
But to etch and trace.
Hopefully some allow...
And undergo with grace.
That's the reality of these stages we go through!
At least 'some' do.
The ones who are not moisturizing...
To rid a wrinkle,
Or two.
OR...
Those of us who make a fuss,
About a delayed aging process ordered...
Taking too long to come and is much overdue!
A special delivery was paid to insure a rush!
To subdue those lines that accrue...
With the stages of age some welcome unphased!
Praying this amazement of a quick aging,
Fades away!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My First Time Being Here
The experience of aging
Is a process many fight.
Some act as if it's not a gift...
To grow older with delight.
I'm often asked how it feels,
To be an age I don't appear.
I tell them it's my first time doing it...
It's my first time being here!
And if I knew I should feel a certain way,
Nothing in my past prepared me for this day!
It's all new to me...
I have no clue how I should be.
Nor do I look in the mirror with fears,
To chase away!
('That depends on HOW I'm looking')
It's clear I'm aging,
With a grace I accept!
And blessed I feel everyday!
No one I know will be here forever...
No matter what's done to stay!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dust Collector
Not as close to center.
And away from the spotlight,
On life's stage.
This becomes evident and noticed,
By the one who becomes of age.
And having it one's way...
Is given.
Without swaying any one's opinion.
'Hey why not?
They are not going to be around here,
That long! '
~They who?
I'm aging too and so are you!
IF you're 'lucky'.~
A withering in appearance,
Is experienced as this 'blessing' occurs.
And the one who goes through the process adapts.
Since encouraging words seem to overflow as heard!
Coming from those still in their youth.
'You seem to be lost!
Do you need help crossing the street? '
~I need no help.
I happen to be thinking of a new recipe,
Thank you! ~
Reminding those who are aging...
How brave it is to have that much nerve,
To allow it to show and be done.
Leaving those in their youth,
Stunned by someone over the age of '31'...
Loving the act of aging!
'Mister, I heard you.
And you are well over '31'.
You are old enough to be my grandfather.'
~And I am willing to bet,
Your 'grandfather' never suggested...
Kids like yourself,
Need to learn how to mind your own business.
I could care less about you being in the spotlight.
I can shine just as bright and with more lustre without it.~
'Listen up...dust collector!
I don't have to pay you any attention at all,
Old man!
Wrap that around those aching bones and wrinkles.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Maturing to Grow
Maturing to grow,
Upsets those getting old.
And this some show.
Hoping an aging slows.
As they regret,
Seeing those mature...
With an aging that shows.
While those who grow old to mature,
Are not upset by this process at all.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Being Direct
I don't know if it was aging,
Or its process...
That increased my desire,
To ensure a peace of mind I found...
Stayed in place.
Or if it began creating itself,
Over time.
And I sought ways to prioritize,
Its importance.
But I will admit this,
The finding of it found...
Has today with me lived to exist.
And being direct is an added bonus,
That allows me to use my age...
To guarantee any nonsense from me stays away.
And this I have noticed...
Without one word from me to say,
I can raise just 'one' eyebrow...
To get my point across.
Either with a frown or a smile,
It does not seem to matter.
Only those who have experienced this,
Can appreciate the value and the benefits...
Of aging with a peace of mind.
And being direct to protect what one has,
To classify it as valued...
Seems to get more respect when one has clearly aged.
However,
There are some exceptions!
Those who do not seem to age gracefully,
Do appear to attract and nag with exurberance.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I See My Friends Aging
I see my friends aging
Slower in all they do-
The wrinkles and the hesitations before not remembering,
The difficulties in things done so easily once-
I see my friends aging
Sicker and sadder
Their eyes in some strange distance-
Some of them courageous
With plans and trips and grandchildren,
Endlessly going and doing
And being the best they can-
I see my friends aging
And wonder how long I too can pretend
Its still alright-
At this time of life
Time is cruel
And we are going only one way-
I see my friends aging
And I will soon if I am still here
Walker cane wheelchair
Be ancient too.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Overnight Aging That Arrives
Ugly doesn't seem to care,
How early in the morning it is found on one's face.
And the entire body,
Feels as if it is being renovated.
With a work in progress taking place.
This aging process is done with more than just grace!
First a reaquaintance slowly begins.
To introduce a youthful mind,
To the 'vessel' that mind refuses to be trapped in.
Then an acceptible reality is encouraged,
With a tolerance one has to respect.
If this is not done with a kindness that reflects...
Folks who happen to see you publicly,
Will say what is believed one expects...
'You look SO good!
For 'your' age.
Not at all like you're ready for the grave.'
~Uh...
Thank you!
For the compliment?
I know what you meant.
I guess.~
And one feels inside someone has lied!
Especially when one knows how long it takes,
Of late...
To get ugly from taking a much longer ride.
With a regimen of ointments and pain killers,
To mask those aches one does not pride!
In the mornings when it is no longer safe,
For even one to find a place to hide...
From the 'overnight' aging that arrives!
And the time it takes for those aches to subside.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Songs To Aging Children Come
Through the windless wells of wonder
By the throbbing light machine
In a tea leaf trance or under
Orders from the king and queen
Songs to aging children come
Aging children, I am one
People hurry by so quickly
Dont they hear the melodies
In the chiming and the clicking
And the laughing harmonies
Songs to aging children come
Aging children, I am one
Some come dark and strange like dying
Crows and ravens whistling
Lines of weeping, strings of crying
So much said in listening
Songs to aging children come
Aging children, I am one
Does the moon play only silver
When it strums the galaxy
Dying roses will they will their
Perfumed rhapsodies to me
Songs to aging children came
This is one
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Who Has Sacrificed With A Kept Pace
Something done persistently,
Eventually wears on the body and mind...
Of the one who has given time to find,
Without a resting to qualify this to be done...
Like some who give their recommendations,
Misunderstanding the drive it has taken...
To make sure things are set in place.
They would never understand,
One who has sacrificed with a kept pace.
Well...I do.
And it is not from that which I am doing today.
It is a much needed rest,
From that which has taken years in the making
To create.
Never before considered the connection between,
Aches and pains and the lack of rest.
Until my mind and body began to beg for some.
And getting as much as I can get to just rest,
To prioritize for myself is best.
And aging has made me more aware of this!
Without proper rest,
The body and mind begins to insist it be done.
And quick with a paying of attention.
Oh...
You don't need to shout so loud.
I hear you very clearly.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Proud To Exist To Witness Possibilities
I am glad I represent a generation aging.
With an acceptance to reminisce and reflect,
Upon the times I have been blessed to remember.
I am glad to be able to think with a thought process,
That connects with a wish to daily adventure.
And welcome a maturity I have earned.
With all that being conscious of it has to offer.
Although I will admit,
A loneliness when so many are dismissing...
There are phases of life that should be natural.
And understood with observations undenied.
And moving forward instead of backwards.
Or remaining down to earth unchanged.
As many aging with their delusions intact,
Would like to claim with a sameness of sanity.
But isn't that what stagnation is?
A stubbornness that is fixed in place.
With ways that begin to collect ignored dust.
And being stagnant and stale, unchanged...
Is something I don't consider fresh or impressive.
Or sparkles as if proud to exist to witness possibilities.
Not if one is to grow and experience what life is.
Or come to realize this adventure isn't here to last forever.
I am glad I represent a generation aging,
With an acceptance.
I am glad to be able to think with a thought process,
That connects with a wish to daily adventure.
And welcome a maturity I have earned.
With all that being conscious of it has to offer,
As a life I have learned to live...
To appreciate, explore and not take for granted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Body Is Going Through Some Changes
Some of you have heard this comment before...
'You look good,
For your age! '
What does that really mean?
What is implied?
And how should the comment be taken?
I see some people react with a smile.
As if they have been complimented.
While others have a puzzled look on their faces.
As if to say...
'And how old should I look? '
And then there are those,
Who are so frightened to appear their ages...
They are the ones behind sunglasses.
And under toupees, weaves, wigs...
Moisturizes, nip, tucks and cosmetic masks!
Making the aging process a scary thought for anyone!
Me?
I care less about how I look.
Well...
Some days!
Just to set the record straight.
However...
For me,
It's the way I feel.
And some days I feel like I should be filmed for a documentary.
With bones cracking and other noises my body makes,
In the mornings when I rise to start my day.
I swear...
Birds I hear early in the morning chirping,
Stop when I get up.
They listen.
They make me aware,
My body is going through some changes!
Especially the ones who have the nerve to sit,
On my window sill and look in!
And they don't have to say anything,
For me to get the message.
I guess it is how this whole process is approached.
And how that is done...
That leaves a lasting impression!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Got And Sought The Best Of Other Estimates
My body wanted to begin,
To breakdown too.
But I refuse to let it.
Or listen to others about their newly discovered,
Aches and doctored pains.
As if an aging like that was to be contained.
I don't think so!
I've got too many miles to go!
I guess I have a respect for life too much,
To just let 'any' mechanic get a look under my hood.
And I got and sought the best of other estimates.
With copies of xrays and scans to put right in their hands.
To keep my engine 'purring' as best as it could.
Knowing the abuse of my youthfulness spent...
I had to make sure,
I received the best recommendations...
To keep my travels on a road,
I am not yet prepared to stall on!
Or Fall to lay flat on my back off track.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If Not For Eternity
Everyday,
All of us are given opportunities...
To explore and adventure,
Another aspect of life...
To experience something new.
And everyday excuses are made,
To have no time to find...
What it is we could and should do.
Complaining and delivering faults,
Have found many to accept this as their expertise...
With a choice to expose this as a gift.
And without solicitation...
This craft upon others is released.
Everyday,
All of us are given opportunities...
To explore and adventure,
Another aspect of life...
To experience something new.
And yet there are those who say they can not afford,
To waste their patience...
On something they rather ignore.
And ignore they do...
Themselves.
Commitments made to relationships.
Friendships taken for granted...
As futures of their children,
Delayed for a taste of procrastination.
But participating in something done...
That guarantees hours spent in frivolous fun,
Is given without a moment's hesitation.
Since this has been marketed as a life to live!
And aging with a maturity to reflect,
Is no longer regarded as a process to respect.
Nor is it prioritized as a positive.
And under a plastic surgeon's busy knife,
Everyone has a desire to pay...
Whatever it takes,
To appear and 'look' youthful...
Jusr for a day or a week.
If not for eternity!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If you look at body fat, it seems to increase with age, even though your weight does not. That's a physiological fact of aging, they say. Heck it is. It is an adaptive effect of aging.
quote by Kenneth H. Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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By Choice
Whether or not I am eligible,
To live a life I see fit...
Under my fixed,
And budgeted circumstances...
Should not offend your sensibilities.
Especially 'if' I choose to ignore your opioniated comments,
Completely.
If nothing else,
There 'is' one thing I've earned...
With a learning that is essential.
And that's an ability to remove you from my consciousness,
At 'will'.
And out of my sight,
By choice.
With the greatest of ease.
Aging is a remarkable process, indeed!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You can't stop the aging process. There's only so much oil you can put on your body. I've always just tried to go with my age. If the part requires somebody a little younger or older, I can probably get away with that.
quote by Angie Dickinson
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Everyday Being Tested
Everyday there is a witnessing of miracles.
And everyday someone unbelieving,
Chooses to complain about their aches and pains.
In a celebration with invited guests.
And those who seem the happiest...
Are those everyday being tested.
Expressing how their lives are gratefully blessed.
With faith and prayer done everyday to attest and reflect.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tight Thigh Holders Strapped to Stomach Wraps
One 'chronologically' aging,
In years that clearly appear.
With a slow pacing done.
And the carrying of aches and pains...
As the usual 'identifying' suspects.
Reveals no aspects of an acceptance yet.
And the effects of this...
Has not yet affected a reflected maturity.
None to speak of nor that is obvious.
An awaiting presence of it will not surprise...
In an overnight appearance.
Or come in disguise as an adult,
With wisdom seen in experienced eyes.
Experience, adulthood and maturity...
Sometimes are in conflict.
Many on the threshold of chronologically aging,
With that rapid sagging muscle look...
Are in denial about the process.
And seek to have time stand still...
By displays of irresponsibility.
With needs of centerstage attention.
And praise accompanied by accolades.
'Don't you like attention,
No matter how old you are? '
~Sure.
But I don't crave it.
I just know how and when to get it.
That's the difference.
Some folks 'whine'.
But I don't need to do that to get mine.
I like to think my tactics have been refined.
Without the need for ointments, braces...
Or tight thigh holders strapped to stomach wraps.
Thank God I am still naturally attractive! !
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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