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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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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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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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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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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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Regardless of My Needs
Babysitting emotions,
Of those of aging rusty butts...
Does not set well with my adult outlook.
Since I know what it takes,
To pave the path I make.
No one has held my hand,
To prevent mistakes I took like a man.
And I can not stomach those who fake,
Heartbreak because of situations they create.
Or try to diminish their disasters done to others...
As nothing more than an oversighted blemish.
And hear them make attempts,
To run from their misdeeds like wimps!
I'm not living my life to run and hide.
Nor will I take the time to listen to others' sigh!
The strides I've taken...
I took as I cried.
Perhaps that is why,
Babysitting emotions,
Of those of aging rusty butts...
I deny.
And will not satisfy those weaknesses,
I put aside.
When I realize I alone,
Must comfort the healing of my own sorrows!
No one else but me condones!
Yesterday, even now and tomorrow.
Afterall...
I am a man.
And a man is 'suppose' to withstand,
Any stinging pain!
Inflicted with sealed lips.
At least that's what I'm told,
As I conceal my agonies!
With an expectation...
That others can dump theirs upon me just the same!
Regardless of my needs!
Or if I bleed.
My wounds I must contain!
And pretend my feelings have not been changed!
It is all insane.
But if I expose the pain I hold...
I must endure the shame!
That's why I make no announcements to maintain,
Or claim...
My manhood!
As I interpret it to be.
And given to me to explore!
Babysitting emotions,
Of those of aging rusty butts...
I ignore.
Dedicated:
To those of us who are expected to 'understand'
without an ounce of 'that' expressed to us!
We must realize there is a 'blessing' involved.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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Am I Gettin Old
Is it gravity or age
that causes the food I eat
To gather in the middle
and sometimes hide my feet
When I take a shower
and my hair fills the drain
Is this a sign of aging
or swelling of the brain
Is it air pollution or age
that hampers my sight
It may be the water, not age
that causes bathroom trips at night
Is it laziness or age
that I cannot do as before
And when I try
which one made me sore
Is it the actors or aging
that causes me to sigh
Why do so many movies
now bring a tear to my eye
I must be getting older
for I think more than I do
Hey, getting old is not so bad
now I have an excuse or two
Terry M
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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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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No one can avoid aging, but aging productively is something else.
quote by Katharine Graham
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Find The Humor in It
There are those who profess,
The same aging miseries.
As if to keep them possessed,
Makes their complaints more acceptable.
If I was to say,
I have heard people comment...
About the same agonies today,
They had 'decades' ago...
There would be those believing,
I am finding fresh ways to exaggerate.
There are those who profess,
The same aging miseries.
As if to keep them possessed,
Makes their complaints more acceptable.
I couldn't even embellish this stuff,
To find the humor in it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Reflection
I see my reflection…
In my aging parents.
They’ve grown so old.
The mirror tells me
It’s time to age
Gracefully…
If I look ugly,
There’s one consolation
My hubby will always
Love me.
(Poem themed on Aging)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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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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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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I am not afraid of aging, but more afraid of people's reactions to my aging.
quote by Barbara Hershey
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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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
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Aging Excuse Making Children
Difficult and with stress it is,
To be an adult.
And live in an environment surrounded,
By old and aging excuse making children.
Difficult to know it is who is being responsible,
And who to hold accountable...
For the raising of disrespectful kids,
Found totally without initiative or discipline.
It is so hard to maintain one's patience,
And make attempts to explain...
Even to those who appear to have brains,
What the benefit of staying motivated is.
And if one should expose to show concern,
With sincere understanding and comprehension...
One has learned from experience,
This is interpreted as trying to be better than the others.
And eventually...
The one who has grown to be that mature adult leaves,
To keep a nurtured peace of mind...
And those perceptions aging children keep to believe,
Alone for them to condone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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As They Convalesce
Aging slick cliquers...
With nothing to offer,
But times gone reminisced.
Living with delusions,
That 'their' ancestors were the best.
Because they left them with fantasies and myths,
And how to live lives with thief, deception...
And gluttonousness!
Aging slick cliquers...
Pooped from pecking.
And drying out with wrinkled skin.
Sharing chats about when they were young...
With pretensions kept they learned back then!
As they convalesce in resting homes,
And abandoned by their thoughtless, self centered
Racist taught and greedy children!
Those of lustful, crushing and fast evaporating values.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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