Only The Ones Who Continually Count Their Blessings
Why is it when one is young,
Aging is something believed...
No one wants to get done.
I've had my share of bouts with doubts.
Praying my advancing age...
Would not be so obvious.
Or in public be announced,
To be shouted out.
As I made attempts not to appear,
Like I was not experiencing a mid-life crisis.
But,
I've earned this.
I had to awaken to admit it!
I've EARN THIS!
Every bit of it and proud.
I have managed to do some things I dared.
With challenges and obstacles,
To prove a faith had pulled me through...
Mucho grief!
With just some of it shared.
Not all.
I don't want to scare the few people I know,
Away!
There's already been an acceptance,
Of my mentioned dysfunctions.
Why blow it on a 'show and tell' demonstration?
Some boundaries should be kept limited.
And imagined.
Why is it when one is young,
Aging is something believed...
No one wants to get done.
I've had my share of bouts with doubts.
Praying my advancing age...
Would not be so obvious.
Or in public be announced,
To be shouted out.
As I made attempts not to appear,
Like I was not experiencing a mid-life crisis.
I use to fear aging before I understood it.
Only the ones who continually count their blessings,
Can appreciate a few aches and pains...
And associate 'that' with being grateful to feel them.
Only the ones who continually count their blessings,
Can appreciate a few aches and pains...
And associate 'that' with being grateful to feel them.
And I'll keep that repeated to myself,
As a reminder.
Sometimes this self motivation business,
Does get old and tired.
But a blessing to live to get done.
You never know who's listening,
When confessions are being made.
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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Young Poets Society
to all the young poets in this worlds society.
as a father and grand father as well.
you have made me as proud as can be.
you take the depths of the ocean-and set peoples lives in motion.
for when someone as young as you -can see what we've
gone through.
and feel the elders aches and pains, it will never be the same.
so i stand here proud as can be
through your poetry you have been set free
and i thank you for those memories.
(pain and love have no boundaries)
so continue to write and tell what you see and feel-
and let others know that this is real.
poem by Louis Rams
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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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Wisened
Young!
And full of...
Adventure.
Unafraid to leave,
Boundaries made.
And perceived limits...
To conform within and respect.
With a reluctance to later regret!
That was left to those who,
Aged!
And I had of yet,
Become a slave to correctness.
Young!
And full of...
Ideas that dared.
Experimental,
Yes.
Argumentative,
Yes.
With a thoughtlessness,
Centered in selfishness.
I confess.
I was young but not devoid of consciousness.
And I make no excuses at all for this.
I AM blessed with life.
And I made a promise,
To explore every bit of it!
With a crawling if I had to.
But determined to do,
What for me I sought was right.
Sometimes frightened in flight!
But never to stop...
To broaden my sight.
I wanted to know.
Not stay up 'wondering' all night!
Young!
And full of...
Nonsense!
Then.
Now reflective,
And full of...
The life I like.
Living the life I have lived,
To love!
It is my life.
I made sure I didn't follow.
And obstacles faced..
I chipped away.
I've had my share,
Of wallowing in sorrows.
With no wishes to do it,
Any differently.
OR make visits with delusions...
To have my thoughts redressed.
Or sympathized by time,
I let slip by.
To awaken one day with aches and pains.
With a reach in desire for a yesterday.
Today...
I will never regain to claim any,
Embellished exaggerations.
I can say these thoughts are all mine.
Whether in fine print,
Or in my mind documented.
And they have been,
Wisened!
Whether the wine I drank,
Now drink or sipped...
Was fine or cheap.
These thoughts I keep...
Are all mine!
With such a savored flavor.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What on Earth Is That 'Old' Man Thinking?
I can no longer camouflage my aches and pains.
Or hide them behind grimaces...
Through smiles to mask.
There are some tasks,
Aging limbs can not publicly pretend to do.
Like walking with a swagger,
Past a sweet young 'thing'.
Who says within listening distance...
'What on Earth is that 'old' man thinking? '
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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Grateful I Am I Can Radiate My Appreciation
How do I feel about getting older?
Great!
And the older I get,
It becomes obvious I have learned 'something'.
That's just one of many gifts.
And with the blessings God has bestowed upon me...
I am happy fewer of these questions I have to answer.
No longer am I a bud impatiently waiting to bloom.
That blooming,
For those who choose to see it...
Can be observed without detailed explanation.
Grateful I am I can radiate my appreciation.
Consuming life enjoyed and knowing I'm connected.
And I'll be glad to show you my knees,
Discolored from many hours spent in prayer.
That's how I got from where I was to where I am,
Now.
And wishing to be tomorrow.
With a lesson taught obtained from everyone...
And everywhere!
Until my 'light' no longer reflects.
At one time I thought I had to snap my fingers,
To get what I wanted.
Demanding,
As if I was the only tree in the forest.
With branches that grew,
And leaves needing immediate attention.
Like the new comers do!
I don't have to do that now!
I just ask.
And my desires are delivered.
Asking me if I am spoiled...
Would have been a better question!
But then again,
You would not know that.
You were not near to witness,
How I removed obstacles on my path!
Or myself from shallow whinings!
Dedicated:
To those who have discovered the aging process,
As a blessing possessed with a greater observation.
That reflects upon a journey,
One realizes has been achieved...
By acquiring 'some' success they can personally share,
With belief.
And this needs very little documentation,
As it is lived and not dictated to those left in curiosity!
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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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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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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Wisdom
I've been accused of having wisdom.
And I smile and ask...
'When did that happen?
I felt like such a jerk in my past.'
I stumbled and fell,
Got up to fall again.
I wasn't afraid to make mistakes.
Nor did I have thoughts on my mind to win!
I wanted to do those things I was born to do.
I didn't listen much to anyone...
Who believed I was confused.
Since they had no clue of my desires...
I didn't feel there was anything I had to prove.
I've been 'me' all my life.
Who else could I be?
I've had some heartaches,
And suffered tremendously!
I've learned to forgive and let live.
A lesson I'm happy I have finally conceived.
I guess what others 'see' is a tolerance...
That came with a maturity.
I have had long bouts with immaturity no doubt.
And I've been wise enough not to let my flaws upset.
I've accepted who I am...
And eliminated regret.
I am not yet perfect.
Whatever that means.
However...
I am blessed that I am aging.
And still wishing to do my best.
If there is any wisdom attached to that...
Anyone is welcome to share it.
And we will both be amazed...
How a wisdom described as it is today,
Developed from events I thought were awful...
Mind altering and crazy days!
But...
I will accept your assessment.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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As Fresh As Dawn Awakens
Today,
My eyes and mind...
Are not on mistakes I've made.
Nor are they concentrated,
On aches and pains I've had.
Or the passing of judgements of others!
Today,
As fresh as dawn awakens my sensibilities...
I reach and desire something fresh to experience.
I want to witness and participate with nature.
I want to feel assessible to anyone that approaches.
I wish to remove every restriction,
Others may around them have!
Today,
My eyes and mind...
Are not on mistakes I've made.
Nor are they concentrated,
On aches and pains I've had.
Or the passing of judgements of others!
Today,
I am going to pray and be grateful.
Today,
And everyday thereafter I am blessed to breathe,
God is going to hear me express how blessed I am.
And not a complaint will I address.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Unload the Excess Baggage
I am not the one,
To walk around validating...
Every pinch felt from an illness.
Or am I the one to carry pain,
As if I've been awarded...
A medal for valor and honor.
Each day as I pray...
And after I awaken,
I feel tremendously blessed...
That God has pulled my sisters and I,
Through much heartbreak and stress.
We, in those days, believed we needed to address.
And when I hear some folks,
Making excuses for mistakes they've made...
I can go through any day,
Without seeking to be medicated.
To fake my feelings to numb the aches.
I want to keep it real.
That's how I feel.
I am not the one,
To walk around validating...
Every pinch felt from an illness.
Nor am I the one,
Seeking to skate through a life...
Speeded by an easy breeze.
God has blessed me!
And I know this.
And there is nothing better I can do...
Than to hold my head up,
And unload the excess baggage.
To live the best life feeling grateful.
And blessed to be able to confess it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Getting Down and Funky, Staying Low and Earthy
The first time I made attempts,
To be mature and endure those who weren't.
In my neighborhood,
Of aging children.
My attempts did not work.
In fact they provoked those who chose,
To remain irresponsible.
And had not yet been introduced,
To accountability.
Something they accuse others for not doing.
You know.
Those and them,
Who are suppose to care about us.
More than we care for and about ourselves.
Those conversations are still used to convince,
The many loitering around playgrounds.
Seeking to play their familiar games.
Today with age and maturity experienced.
I come into contact with those refusing to make sense.
Those who believe life is a telling of an endless joke.
And laugh at the keeping of their insecurities hidden,
Behind masks that change with fashionable fads.
And I observe their children who are no longer 'kids'.
Many are limited to an ignorance lived.
And they are raising their offspring to disrespect.
As I witness those of us now elders.
Doing our best to break a sweat,
Getting down and funky.
Staying low and Earthy.
As if this is an investment we hand over to a future.
With expectations that a quality of life diminishing,
Will deliver us to a consciousness to grasp overnight.
There's not enough praying on knees that can be done,
To awaken those with nothing but time and lives to waste.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To live with crisis
We have learnt to live with the crisis
So much can be written as pure thesis
It is not that we have lost moral base
Everybody has become conscious and wants to be at ease
Those were the days when people used to rise in revolt
Some of the incidences were coming like jolt
It was never on expected lines and proved decisive
The people have risen to the occasion and not remained submissive
It is mass demonstration of strong resolve
If no grievances are addressed to or care is taken to solve
The public outburst is legitimate concern
It engulfs entire region in turn
People were offering life while facing bullets
They were putting obstacles at all outlets
The nationalist spirit was really at heart
They did not want even little to part
The nobility was never questioned
The royal houses were always honored
The public concern was their most priority
The olden history is praising this as their best quality
The duties and rights were equally weighed
The line was known and clearly laid
The loyalty was never in doubt
Today nothing of that sort talked about
Public has no time for such activities now
The glory and fame has become thing of past
No one may risk the life for silly reasons
There are no worth personalities to lead as persons
They have enough of stemina on tolerance
They want no more lesson or references
The radical steps has witnessed sea change
People have loved to live with the age
Now nothing bothers such as unrest and strikes
Unemployment and poverty has less dislikes
The statistics educate them about the real scene
The difficulties and problems are understood and seen
The student unrest or mass protest is seen as stage managed
The corporate bodies, politicians have never salvaged
The deep crisis concerning public at large
The end game is open and no one wants it to enlarge
The action is aimed at diverting the public opinion
Some of them are contemplated by the powerful unions
Greedy and local leaders are not staying behind
They too want their lions share to find
The public suffers as holy cow
Total concept and view points are changed now
No one has regard for humanity or nationality
Every one is trying to score so as to prove ability
Nothing has remained holy as it was before
No right persons are coming forward therefore
The public has understood the game
No one is prepared to share the blame
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Youthful Steps
I aint trying to get down with the beat,
Or keep it funky for 'nobody'.
To boogey to impress,
I can address with sweat...
A few youthful steps,
With a shaking of my booty...
Is not a challenge.
What is?
And there is nothing complex about it.
But...
I've discovered that an acceptance,
Of the aging process harnesses for me...
A self respect I did not expect I would enjoy.
I know my comments annoy a lot of old folks.
But I aint trying to stay timeless,
With a hip and with it attitude.
Plus...
I am not living with a wish to have done things,
I did not or could not do.
I've made attempts and will continue.
Although I could,
If I so desired...
To get down and sweat with the best!
But,
I aint trying to get down with the beat,
Or keep it funky for 'nobody'.
To boogey to impress,
I can address with sweat...
Youthful steps,
With a shaking of my booty?
Is stressful.
And poppa don't want to prove,
I can be an aging fool.
Too many are doing that already.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Don't Ever Give Up On Yourself
don't ever give up on yourself
don't get to the point of despair
so many people around you
there is always someone that cares.
life is what we make of it
it all depends on you
there is love in everyones heart
and at times it does'nt show.
but keep the faith in the LORD above
and then you will know.
everyone goes thru aches and pains
that is the cross we all share.
but that does'nt mean theres
no one out there, .
who can show they really care.
follow your heart like you would a bird in flight
that is when you will feel,
love and all its might.
poem by Louis Rams
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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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That 'Senior Citizen' Thing
That 'senior citizen' thing,
Isn't easy for many to face and address.
And...
I am not comfortable with it yet.
Not to cling onto it like it is mine.
I am not prepared to declare,
Total ownership of it.
I am told I can still 'pass' for 55.
And that's young and radiant,
When one is...
On the fringes of showing 'maturity'.
And as my aches and pains,
Make attempts to ignore a fading youth...
Slowly leaving my consciousness,
With loud professions of my obsessiveness...
I know,
Is no longer in that hip hop stage!
And has gone.
I feel time has crept upon me,
And has done me wrong.
But...
I aint crying about it.
Not in public anyway.
And if I do it is raining!
I tell people then,
How I enjoy the feeling of nature.
That 'senior citizen' thing,
Was never on my agenda when I was in my teens.
Nor did aging appear in my dreams...
When I sought ambitiously,
To waste as much time as possible.
It was not a topic of excitement.
Nor a subject to defend.
Back in those days when age was taken for granted.
And then,
Overnight...
My eyesight needed correction.
I had to wear glasses 'with' bi-focals.
My digestion needed anti-oxidents with more fiber.
And for no apparent reason,
I would stumble into buildings and trees.
Losing my balance.
That 'senior citizen' thing,
Isn't easy for many to face and address.
And...
I am not comfortable with it yet.
Not to cling onto it like it is mine.
I am not prepared to declare,
Total ownership of it.
I am told I can still 'pass' for 55.
And that's young and radiant,
When one is...
On the fringes of showing 'maturity'.
Someone...
Like myself,
For example.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Others Who Fake It
Needing less attention.
And confessing human sins.
This aging phase,
Finds many who have made it...
At such a rewarding,
Appreciative stage.
Feeling grateful to have life!
And understanding more,
Of this 'gift' that life is.
Seeing things for what they are...
And not for what they are not.
Finding it so trivial now...
To hold onto pettiness held,
To become glad and light hearted...
Knowing that 'stuff'
Has long been dropped.
I feel where I am now,
Should be the beginning.
And not near the end that comes.
Accepting reality for what it is for me.
And realizing with a maturity,
That's how life should be lived...
By each and everyone!
And that makes a happier life to live.
Knowing I am here,
To leave others who fake it...
Or however it is taken,
For their own sakes...
And making it on their own,
Alone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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