Of A Once Natural Process
Ointments.
Moisturizers.
Facelifts and tummy tucks...
May slow the appearance,
Of a once natural process.
But a tock heard from a clock that ticks...
Does not stop,
To acknowledge any of these efforts.
No matter what one is told to feed and sell.
Those who accept and face aging...
Often live well when not dwelling on looks!
And those dwelling on looks,
Are most likely hooked on receiving compliments.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Monitored or Not It Just Becomes Hypnotic
People think that happiness will come and just sit.
Just sit!
Just sit!
People think that happiness will come and just sit.
Just sit!
Just sit!
Like the hands of a clock that tocks with a tick.
Tock tick.
Tock tick.
Tock tick.
Tock tick.
And the running and humming becomes toxic.
Toxic.
Toxic.
And nothing exotic will make this erotic.
Monitored or not it just becomes hypnotic.
And people who want what they want wont stop!
Like the hands of a clock that ticks with a tock!
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
Or the chopping heard of meat on a butcher's block!
Sssshop chop.
Sssshop chop.
Sssshop chop.
Sssshop chop!
People like their beef stewed nice and hot!
And nothing exotic will make this erotic.
Monitored or not it just becomes hypnotic.
And people who want what they want wont stop!
Like the hands of a clock that ticks with a tock!
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
People think that happiness will come and just sit.
Just sit!
Just sit!
People think that happiness will come and just sit.
Just sit!
Just sit!
Like the hands of a clock that tocks with a tick.
Tock tick.
Tock tick.
Tock tick.
Tock tick.
And the running and humming becomes toxic.
Toxic.
Toxic.
And the running and humming becomes toxic.
Toxic.
Toxic.
And monitored or not it just becomes hypnotic.
Like people wishing happiness will come and just sit.
Just sit.
Just sit.
And all they have to do is just wait for it!
Like the hands of a clock that tocks with a tick.
Tock tick.
Tock tick.
And monitored or not it just becomes hypnotic.
Monitored or not it just becomes hypnotic.
Monitored or not it just becomes hypnotic.
Hypnotic.
Hypnotic.
And monitored or not it just becomes hypnotic.
Hypnotic.
Hypnotic.
And monitored or not it just becomes hypnotic.
And monitored or not it just becomes hypnotic.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tickity Tick Tock
can't sleep.
don't sleep.
won't sleep.
shan't sleep.
never sleep.
never sleep.
never sleep.
tick tock
tick tock
tickity tick
tock
tock
tock
the little hand drills a hole into my tired mind.
can't
tick
don't
tock
won't
tick
shan't
tock
never
tick
nev er
tock
never sleep
the clock keeps ticking
as my mind struggles to keep up
too many ticks.
too many tocks.
the clock's too loud
it echos through the silent night
too many thoughts
all at once
i need them on paper
scribble
tick
scribble
tock
that fucking clock
it never fucking stops
i cant fucking sleep.
a dog barks
tick
a car screeches
tock
a horse neighs...what?
i can't be that tired
i can't be hallucinating
i
can't
sleep.
don't sleep.
won't sleep.
shan't sleep.
never sleep.
i need a digital clock
Automation
Tick tock, tick tock,
computer's clock,
steal lady of the night.
She sits alone while birdies flock
to bid her a goodnight.
Tick tock, tick tock,
computer's clock,
the world's automated
and the lady in a metal cloak
will live alone, unaided.
Tick tock, tick tock,
computer's clock,
her hard drive stirs again
and while I type this poem,
so dies my mighty pen.
Tick tock, tick tock,
computer's clock,
so true, so true the fear
that life as we once knew it
has slowly disappeared.
Tick tock, tick tock,
computer's clock
we victims of our time.
The last bird flies above us
while all of nature dies.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With Eyes Remembered
It's not a sin for those,
Who distance themselves...
As far as they can,
From the ticking of a clock.
Is it?
What about those who make attempts,
To get that ticking to be stopped?
With confirmations sought,
That an aging process...
Has completely forgotten them!
And as long as they moisturize,
And Sun block their skins...
They will keep Mother Nature guessing,
For years without end.
However...
With suggestions made,
To avoid further Botox treatments...
To allow a natural appearance,
A chance to return to their faces again!
Maybe with eyes remembered,
Attached to a recognized grin.
This alone will silence the complaining,
That aging ungracefully on some has shown.
'Yes...
Of course I remember you!
You and my grandmother were good friends.'
~No!
Larry?
You and I went to high school together.~
'OH!
Oh...
OH?
Uh...
Oh!
It's a beautiful day,
Isn't it? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cuckoo Clock
We knew it must have been late
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
We had no time to wait
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I went to light the fireplace
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I planned it all this way, and
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I snuggled close to her
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
Her heart began to purr
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I held my breath inside, and then
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I put my arms around her
(tick-tock)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo
I put that birdie away
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
His cuckoo was gone to stay
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
We both apologized for why
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
Forgave that doggone cuckoo
I went back to her side
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I had to swallow my pride
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
The fire had almost died away
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
We just got situated
(tick-tock)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo
I took that clock apart
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I broke the cuckoos heart
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
Hell never bother us again
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
We just forgot about him
(tick-tock)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Even We
I am a clock
Tick tock
I never stop
Tick tock
I tell time
Tick tock
"When will the
school day be over? "
I will not stop
Tick tock
Until they leave
Tick tock
No!
Tick tock
"Then I still keep going."
I jump off the wall
and be crazy with my friends.
Then at 7: 30 a.m.
I stop and go back.
But- you see?
Even we
need a time to have fun.
Old Folks
The old folks dont talk much
They talk so slowly when they do
They are rich they are poor
Their illusions are gone
They share one heart for to
Their homes all smell of tyme
Of old photographs
And an old fashioned song
Though you may live in town
You live so far away
When youve lived to long
Have they laughed to much
Do their dry voices crack
Talking of things gone by
Have they cried to much
A tear or two still always seems
To cloud the eye
They tremble as they watch the old silver clock
When day is through
Tick tock oh so slow
It says yes it says no
It says I wait for you
The old folks dream no more
Their books have gone to sleep
The pianos out of tune
The little cat is dead
And no more do they sing on a sunday afternoon
The old folks move no more
Their world become to small
Their bodies feel like lead
They might look out a window
Or else sit it a chair
Or else they stay in bed
And if they still go out
Arm and arm, arm and arm
In the mornings chill
Its to have a good cry
To say their last goodbye
To one whose older still
And then they go home
To the old silver clock
When day is through
Tick tock so so slow
It says yes it says no
It says I wait for you
The old folks never die
They just put down their heads
And go to sleep one day
They will hold each others hands
Like children in the dark
But one will get lost anyway
And the other will remain
Just sitting in a room
Which makes no sound
It doesnt matter now
The song has died away
And echos all around
Youll see them as they walk
Through the sun filled parks
Where children run and play
It hurst to much to smile
It hurts so much
But life goes on for still another day
As they try to escape the old silver clock
When day is through
Tick tock oh so slow
It says yes it says no
It says I wait for you
The old old silver clock
Thats hanging on the wall
That waits for us all
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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School's Out
Watching the ticking of the clock,
Tick-tock tick-tock
The clock that counts our days away.
Tick-tock tick-tock
Two minutes left and shrinking fast.
Tick-tock tick-tock
It’s summer time and school is out!
Thank you Sir for teaching us
Another year is gone.
Thank you Miss for showing us
The meaning of those songs.
Summer’s here, summer’s here,
School is out, school is out.
Although we’re glad it’s holidays
Thank you for the year!
Heavy feet trudging through
The sweet smelling grass.
A sneeze, a speck of hay fever,
Blame it on the class.
A fire bell with lots of groans,
Hurry up, we want to go home,
Ticks on registrations chart
Jimmy, here ma’am, no it’s Mark!
Yes Sir no Sir, three bags full Sir.
Left right, left right.
Emily, Amy, quiet now!
Tick-tock tick-tock
I’m too hot in here now Miss!
Tick-tock tick-tock
Sssshhh, there’s only seconds left.
Thank you Sir for teaching us
Another year is gone.
Thank you Miss for showing us
The meaning of those songs.
Summer’s here, summer’s here,
School is out, school is out.
Although we’re glad it’s holidays
Thank you for the year!
It's now the summer,
School is out,
The last day gone with and enormous shout.
Some of us you'll see again,
Some of us you won't.
But the thing that we want you to know is
Thank you for the year!
poem by Thistle Wargul
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pleading For More Time
I fear...
The ticking of a clock heard.
Tick-tock-a-tick-tick-tick tock,
a-tick tock.
I fear...
The ticking of a clock heard.
Tick-tock-a-tick-tick-tick tock,
a-tick tock.
I fear...
The ticking of a clock heard.
Tick-tock-a-tick-tick-tick tock,
a-tick tock.
And I don't want to be the one,
Pleading for more time.
And I don't want to be the one,
With a trying of time to find...
When it's gone!
I fear...
The ticking of a clock heard.
Tick-tock-a-tick-tick-tick tock,
a-tick tock.
I fear...
The ticking of a clock heard.
Tick-tock-a-tick-tick-tick tock,
a-tick tock.
I fear...
The ticking of a clock heard.
Tick-tock-a-tick-tick-tick tock,
a-tick tock.
And I don't want to be the one,
Pleading for more time.
And I don't want to be the one,
With a trying of time to find...
When it's gone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Restful Sleep
I was sneaking off to sleep
and was waiting for my alarm to beep
and then I did weep,
with only three hours to sleep...
I could hear only
beep, beep, beep
From my bed I did ooze
and very quickly did press snooze,
crawled between my sheets,
fell into a restful sleep
until I heard a loud
beep, beep, beep
and once again, I did ooze
and once again, I did press snooze
but could not sleep
for all I could hear
was the tock, tock, tock
of the clock, clock, clock
I hit the sheets,
rose to my feet.
'You will not tock!
You stupid clock! '
and in the heat, it did
Beep! Beep! Beeeeeeeeeeeeeee.....
And with my all
I kicked the clock against the wall!
after which,
in my sheets I did creep,
and did nothing but
sleep, sleep, sleep
poem by Joseph Wordsmith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stop Your Peeping Through Those Keyholes
Stop that peeping through those keyholes.
Open the windows and doors you've closed.
And take advantage of the time,
Bestowed upon you...
To stretch your mind.
Do this...
And you are certain to grow.
Stop your peeping through those keyholes.
Get fresh air and let yourself be exposed.
To all that is offered,
Beyond suspicions you guess..
And from rumors heard with gossip proposed.
Follow you must...
Each rising Sun.
From dawn 'til noon...
Until the dusk of twilight,
Invites nightfall that comes.
Stop that peeping through those keyholes.
Don't welcome your troubles,
To undo a happiness...
To chase away on the run.
Stop that peeping just to peek.
Stop that peeping just to peek.
Stop your peeping through those keyholes.
Stop that...
Peepng through those keyholes.
Open your windows and doors shut closed.
Stop that...
Peepng through those keyholes.
And take advantage of a life unlived.
One you have yet to accept.
Or come to know.
Stop your peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life to live to be bold.
Stop your,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life to live that is proudly told.
Stop that peeping just to peek.
Stop that peeping just to peek.
Stop that peeping before you're too old.
Stop that,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life to live to be bold.
Stop your,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life to live that is proudly told.
Live a life to live that is proudly told.
And live a life before you're too old.
Stop that,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life to live to be bold.
Stop your,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life to live that is proudly told.
Live a life to live that is proudly told.
And live a life before you're too old.
Stop your,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life before you're too old.
Stop your,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life before you're too old.
Stop your,
Peeping through those keyholes.
And live a life before you're too old.
Live life before you're too old.
Stop your peeping through those keyholes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cant Stop
Oh yeah
Yeah
Cant stop thinkin about you
No, I cant stop thinkin about you
In the morning day or night
I tremble at your sight
Its impossiable to fight,Ive tried
Now youre in my head
And your mind Ive read
Gonna stop the words you say
Now i
-chorus-
Cant stop thinkin about you
I cant get you off my mind
Ohhhh I cant stop thinkin about you
Thinkin about you all the time
Cant stop thinkin about you
I cant get you off my mind
Ohhh I cant stop thinkin about you
Thinkin about you all the time
Cupids heart seeped through
And all along you knew
I just want you to be mine
Nothin I can do
Im all wraped up with you
Even if I wanted to
Iam out of time
-chorus-
I want to know
Say, why is it so
Cant stop thinkin(cant stop thinkin about you)
I want to know
Say, why is it so
Cant stop thinkin(cant stop thinkin about you)
Why
Ohhh yeah
-rap break x 4-
Tick tock, tick tock
Goes the clock
Not a second passes,
I cant stop
-break x 4-
Cant stop(cant stop)
Cant stop it
Cant stop(cant stop)
Cant stop
Take me to a place
Where I can always see your face
I really lost my way this time
Tell me what it means
Iam bursting at the seams
Youre in my thoughts, my dreams
Yet i
-chorus-
I want to know
Say, why is it so
Cant stop thinkin(cant stop thinkin about you)
I want to know
Say, why is it so
Cant stop thinkin(cant stop thinkin about you)
I want to know
Say, why is it so
Cant stop thinkin(cant stop thinkin about you)
I want to know
Say, why is it so
Cant stop thinkin(cant stop thinkin about you)
Cant stop,yeah
Cant stop
Cant stop
Whoa
song performed by by Hanson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Late
My oh my its a quarter to eight
Dont shoot me down dreamboat Im a late date
Dont ask me no questions I aint got a smooth line,
Please a wait a little longer tryin to make it there on time
Tickety tock, oh the clock dont stop
Lazy, dizzy, daisy its a quarter to whoops, uh, oh
Doin nothing honey just a thinkin of you
So dont you give me no suggestions
While I aint got the time
Wont ya move a little closer and a kiss
Me one more time
Tickety tock, oh the clock dont stop
It doesnt matter cause
I know that you would love me too-
But I was late late late.
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Empty False Praising
Methods used to create new enemies,
All but seem increasingly less effective...
These days of fading hollow gestures.
Even traditionalists once quick,
To defend their self righteousness...
Are re-evaluating their positions.
Mostly based upon myth and superstitions.
The end has come to empty false praising.
Tick tock,
That clock with time...
Has been blocked to stop!
The end has come to empty false praising.
Tick tock,
That clock with time...
Has been blocked to stop!
More are more willing to switch beliefs,
Than to fight against...
Those conformists frozen and locked,
In mindsets of deceit.
The end has come to empty false praising.
Tick tock,
That clock with time...
Has been blocked to stop!
The end has come to empty false praising.
Tick tock,
That clock with time...
Has been blocked to stop!
Methods used to create new enemies,
All but seem increasingly less effective...
These days of fading hollow gestures.
Even traditionalists once quick,
To defend their self righteousness...
Are re-evaluating their positions.
Mostly based upon myth and superstitions.
The end has come to empty false praising.
Tick tock,
That clock with time...
Has been blocked to stop!
The end has come to empty false praising.
Tick tock,
That clock with time...
Has been blocked to stop!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Clock On The Wall
The clock ticks on the wall
The same walls
That saw my family
Grow from childhood
To adulthood
The tick tock of time
Each stroke captures
A time a place
Were we visit back
In memories of old
A birth a death
A wedding of bliss
Each memory reflected
In the glass of a
Clock that sits upon the wall
As time ticks by
We look at our lives
What we have done
Where we have gone
Have we wasted any?
Precious time that
Makes our lives whole
So savor the moment
And make each moment count
poem by Kaila George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Forget It
Forget it.
Clinging onto times now gone.
Forget it.
Holding onto resentments.
And exposing pessimistic points of views.
Forget it.
Sitting embittered.
With wishes to remember reasons and why!
And showing others how you despise their lives.
Forget it.
Trying to convince others your are right,
And they are wrong.
Making attempts to stop your feet from patting...
From the nonsensical words heard,
Over the monotonous thumping of rap songs.
Forget it.
Looking for escapes to allow your comfort zone to spread.
Forget it.
Accept.
You are among those who are aging.
And the quickness of this you dread.
Forget it.
Accept.
This is the process of life,
Each generation is fed!
And we...
Those of us who live to become elderly,
Have a routine we keep!
We get up in the morning...
Take a nap at noon!
Or find ourselves in conversations about it all!
Until we become bored and fall to sleep!
Forget it.
Accept.
Be grateful and feel blessed!
The best thing done that comes to those who live...
Is forgetting and forgiving.
And not finding where or when to take time to rest!
'Excuse me.
I'm sorry.
I didn't realize you were sleeping.
We were talking just a few seconds ago.
And suddenly your eyes closed.
I just wanted to make sure you were okay! '
~I was meditating on your last statement.
Remind me...
What was it you were saying? ~
'Forget it.
My stop is coming up soon.
I'm getting off.
We can continue this tomorrow.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Convinced of It
I am afraid to grow grey.
And be left alone!
No.
I am afraid to be left alone.
With thoughts that are laid,
I am getting increasingly grey.
No.
I am getting increasingly grey,
And 'that' has made me afraid.
No.
I am afraid to awaken one day...
In total and complete denial.
But then...
I have been assured,
Those days I await...
Are too far off.
Especially for those like myself,
Still blessed and equipped...
With such a youthful appearance.
And all of us sitting around reminiscing this distance,
Are happy as we giggle.
And thoroughly convinced of it.
We are the 'chosen' specimen,
That will escape from the aging process.
Intended for some but not for us!
The ones still getting those nips and tucks.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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