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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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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Bit in the middle
I work forty miles from home,
so I drive eighty miles a day.
I quite enjoy the journey
it give me time to pray.
I rise at six thirty each moning
so I can get an early start.
I leave work at five thirty,
in the winter I just drive in the dark.
I don't mind all the driving,
in fact it gives me a rest.
It's just the work in the middle
thats the bit that I detest.
poem by Maurice Diplock
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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
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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.
You Must Work To Make Ends Meet
Have you ever felt so tired as you struggle out of bed
And switch off the alarm clock with a throbbing in your head
At five thirty in the morning as dawn's lamp brighten the sky
And the fluting of the butcherbird to you is not a thing of joy.
And your wife she is still sleeping on the bed snoring she lay
You must make your own breakfast at five thirty a m of the new day
And as you leave for work at six thirty the children are asleep
But to work to keep your wife and family is a duty you must keep.
Your boss drives a new Mercedes which he need not share with his wife
He's just bought her a new B M W such are the ways of life
You work so hard for that man for what would seem as average pay
And you must drive in your old mid eighties Datsun to and from the work yard every day.
And when you ask your boss for a raise to you he always say
More young men come to me almost begging for a job start every day
You can forget a raise in wages and if you decide to quit that is okay
I won't even ask you for to stay on if working for me you don't wish to stay.
You do not like the man you work for he does not pay you nearly enough
Though you have just got to hang in there even though the going is tough
But you must work just to make ends meet you have got big bills to pay
And you drive your old eighties Datsun to and from the work yard every day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Grass Is Greener
One thing that I have heard
As I have often been told
Was the grass is always greener
On the other side of the road,
And to the that one statement
I truly had no ideal,
Was it but a lie that I often heard
Or was that assumption for real.
So on top of my own roof
I went to, after my climb
To check another ones yard
Of course a yard, that wasn't mine.
And there is where I stood
As I surveyed across the road
To see if anyone's grass was greener
As I often had heard and also been told.
And there from where that I stood
And from what that I could see
Their grass was not any greener
Than my yard, that I do believe.
So I surveyed the yards of my neighbors
As up on my roof I stood as I thought
Maybe all yards are all different then
So I got off my roof, and I went for a walk.
I walked down the street
Then I walked up the next block
Seems as though the houses got bigger
Along with their possession's and their lots.
Their grass didn't seem any greener
Than mine or the other that I have seen
Though theirs yards were much larger
As though a good picture from everyone's dream.
So there I left, and I continued my walk
I then came across some railroad tracks
And there stood houses and from what I saw,
Their grass was as green, front yard and back.
Though their yards they wasn't as large
As the ones I have seen
And their houses weren't as large or as nice
But their yards, they were just as green.
So then I headed back unto my home
To reflect back on the things that I have seen,
And of the ideals people thought of and said
And what in their mind they really did mean.
So when I got back unto my home
I climbed again on top of my roof
So there I could reflect and think to myself
About my neighbors and me and to tell the truth.
Though the grass might be greener, I did say
On the other side of the road,
But this one thing I tell you my friend,
The grass, it still has to be mowed.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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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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Now I am within thirty yards of him. He must fall. The gun pours out its stream of lead. Then it jams. Then it reopens fire. That jam almost saved his life.
quote by Manfred von Richthofen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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On the eighteenth of December 1972, when we thought we were getting another of the hundreds of little tactical air raids, we heard the bombs going in out there in the railroad yards and this went on for about thirty minutes.
quote by James Stockdale
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What results?
A password I will never lose
Nice messages
And funny poems
Stories, too
Gifts to treasure
Love to remember
Maybe even friendship to last forever
Oh yes, my first adult kiss
To open my chrysalis
But will I be a pretty butterfly-she?
And all this at the age of thirty!
Life is oh so funny
Hihihihi
What else does it have in store for me?
I am eager to wait and see
Patiently
At the age of thirty
A bud
And I still gather may
My prime
As I am a female
Comes with the age of thirty
Graveyard Train
On the highway, thirty people lost their lives.
On the highway, thirty people lost their lives.
Well, I had some words to holler, and my rosie took a ride.
In the moonlight, see the greyhound rollin on.
In the moonlight, see the greyhound rollin on.
Flyin through the crossroads, rosie ran into the hound.
For the graveyard, thirty boxes made of bone.
For the graveyard, thirty boxes made of bone.
Mister undertaker, take this coffin from my home.
In the midnight, hear me cryin out her name.
In the midnight, hear me cryin out her name.
Im standin on the railroad, waitin for the graveyard train.
On the highway, thirty people turned to stone.
On the highway, thirty people turned to stone.
Oh, take me to the station, cause Im number thirty-one.
song performed by by Creedence Clearwater Revival
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Egrets
Once as I travelled through a quiet evening,
I saw a pool, jet-black and mirror-still.
Beyond, the slender paperbarks stood crowding;
each on its own white image looked its fill,
and nothing moved but thirty egrets wading -
thirty egrets in a quiet evening.
Once in a lifetime, lovely past believing,
your lucky eyes may light on such a pool.
As though for many years I had been waiting,
I watched in silence, till my heart was full
of clear dark water, and white trees unmoving,
and, whiter yet, those thirty egrets wading.
poem by Judith Wright
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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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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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I'm thirty years old, but I read at the thirty-four-year-old level.
quote by Dana Carvey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From twenty to thirty, neither pulling nor pushing, from thirty on up a woman is of no further use.
Women over thirty are at their best, but men over thirty are too old to recognize it.
quote by Jean-Paul Belmondo
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I have these visions of myself being thirty, thirty-five, forty having a family.
quote by Nastassja Kinski
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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