Middle age
Life is also a mathematics
number of breaths are counted.
Maths sometimes works on assumption
let's presume the life be hundred.
Mid point of hundred is fifty
that must be the middle age.
Till twenty five we fill up the energy
for perfect propelling in space.
Next twenty five climb the hill
attain the adventurous peak.
After fifty sloping down starts
hill's other side in life's journey.
In childhood god is with you
in old age you search the God.
Remaining period been struggling
of your pitch to become the lord.
In evening of life wait for sunset
visiting doctors or consuming pills.
Own energy is now exhausted
depend on wind like the windmill.
The beauty of the morning and
radiance of noon are till fifty.
after fifty sun starts going down
towards the evening tranquillity.
Between adolescence and old
say between twenty and seventy,
second half of it is heavier so
the balancing point
is
fifty.
(C) S. D. Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Crossing Fifty
Crossing fifty now,
holding kgs of hundred;
Grey grown head and
glistening forehead.
Climbed peak of hill
now time to slope down;
With several branches
chunky tree is grown.
Putting a step further
at stair of growing old;
Celebrating golden jubilee
fifty years behold.
Amassed the ruggedness,
experience, knowledge;
To surrender to the world
carrying responsibilities.
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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That Fifty Year Old Woman
That fifty year old woman
she is someones mother
that fifty year old woman
she is someones lover
them fifty years of her life
unseen by a cover.
Covered by the leaves
from the autumn trees is the grass
surrounded by blue tape
and nosey people who pretend to pass
a group of actors walk by
they have come from a history class
to make history new
with conversation with questions to ask.
A fifty year old woman
in an autumn so cold
a fifty year old woman
seen dark winter unfold
them fifty years of life
it is all we are told.
The actors, they didn't get any information
they did not get pictures
nothing known about the situation
nothing at all to discuss
fifty years of age is all thats said
on the morning paper on the fifty bus
thats all thats said
a fifty year old woman, shes found dead.
That fifty year old woman
shes not someones mother
that fifty year old woman
how she had no lover
them fifty years of life
unseen by a cover.
That fifty year old woman
she was quoted in the paper today
that fifty year old woman will be gone tomorrow
the writers they will show no sorrow
because its the way things work
as people pass
she no longer lies on grass
shes covered in dirt.
poem by Daniel McCann
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Perfect Pitch
I wish someone would accuse me,
Of stealing my creativity from them.
When I've been doing what I do...
For more than 'fifty' years!
Count them...
Not five, ten or twenty!
But FIFTY years.
'That's impossible!
How could that be?
You have 'yet' to leave your fourties! '
Well...er, uh.
You're right!
What am I thinking?
It just 'seems' as if I've been doing this...
For so very long.
At least...
Thirty anyway.
'Tell us the story about how you were breast feeding,
While your mother accompanied you on the piano...
As you sang Ave Maria.'
That was 'not' Ave Maria.
It was the First Noel.
And don't laugh!
I still pride myself for having perfect pitch!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Remember
I remember being ten years old
And wondering what I would be?
I talked it over with my father
And he said, “We’ll see.”
I remember being twenty years old
And wondering all about life.
I found myself getting married
And learning to be a wife.
I remember being thirty years old
With 2 sons at my side.
I saw a few strands of gray hair
Which I tried to hide.
I remember being forty-five
And birthdays coming too soon.
I was teaching kids all about music
And waiting for vacations in June.
I remember when I turned fifty
And my body started to change.
The hormonal and emotional challenges
All became so strange.
I remember becoming fifty-eight
When retirement came my way.
I thought to myself, “ Now what do I do? ”
On every single day?
I remember becoming seventy
When breast cancer came to me.
I decided I wanted to live some more
So I created poetry.
All that I remember from that point on
Is where I am today
Using this pen that’s in my hand.
It’s become my way to say
Thank You.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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There are one-hundred fifty-four games in a season and you can find one-hundred fifty-four reasons why your team should have won every one of them.
The Suicide
For fifty years,
Cruel, insatiable Old World.
You have punched me over the heart
Till you made me cough blood.
The few paltry things I gathered
You snatched out of my hands.
You have knocked the cup from my thirsty lips.
You have laughed at my hunger of body and soul.
You look at me now and think,
'He is still strong,
There ought to be twenty more years of good punching there.
At the end of that time he will be old and broken,
Not able to strike back,
But cringing and crying for leave
To live a little longer.'
Those twenty, pitiful, extra years
Would please you more than the fifty past,
Would they not, Old World?
Well, I hold them up before your greedy eyes,
And snatch them away as I laugh in your face,
Ha! Ha!
Bang —!
poem by James Weldon Johnson
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The Middle Age For Man
The middle age once was after thirty,
Then after forty and now post fifty.
Now and then, all men agree on one point.
The middle age lasts till they reach seventy.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Loveliest of Trees, the Cherry Now
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.
Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.
And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
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Zig Zags Rolling Another One
She came home today from her vacation with an attitude
Told me she was leaving me for good
Said her love had died since she’d been gone
Now it was time for her to be moving on….
Then she asked me for the car keys and fifty bucks
Twenty five years of marriage and all she wanted
was fifty bucks and the keys to the car…
She won’t get far…
2008 © ts
poem by Ted Sheridan
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Zig Zags
She came home today from her vacation with an attitude
Told me she was leaving me for good
Said her love had died since she’d been gone
Now it was time for her to be moving on….
Then she asked me for the car keys and fifty bucks
Twenty five years of marriage and all she wanted
was fifty bucks and the keys to the car…
She won’t get far…
2008 © Rj
poem by Rocket James
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The man who views the world at fifty the same as he did at twenty has wasted thirty years of his life.
quote by Muhammad Ali
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A man who views the world the same at fifty as he did at twenty has wasted thirty years of his life.
quote by Muhammad Ali
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oxfam Stands For Killing Oxen Causes Famine
Oxfam like Heifer International
is distributing animal flesh
to third world countries,
thereby causing animal agony,
spreading human death and disease,
enabling deforesting and continued
global heating, wasting energy.
Oxfam means.... killing oxen causes
famine.
*********
I WILL NOT SAIL WITH SHEEP
- W. H. Davies - (1870 to 1940)
When I was once in Baltimore
A man came up to me and cried
‘Come, I have eighteen hundred sheep,
And we sail on Tuesday’s tide.'
‘If you will sail with me, young man,
I'll pay you fifty shillings down.
These eighteen hundred sheep I take
From Baltimore to Glasgow town.’
He paid me fifty shillings down.
I sailed with eighteen hundred sheep;
We soon had cleared the harbour’s mouth,
We soon were in the salt sea deep.
The first night we were out at sea.
Those sheep were quiet in their mind.
The second night they cried with fear –
They smelt no pastures in the wind.
They sniffed, poor things, for their green fields.
They cried so loud I could not sleep:
For fifty thousand shillings down
I would not sail again with sheep.
poem by O. Anna Niemus
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57 Channels
I bought a bourgeois house in the hollywood hills
With a truckload of hundred thousand dollar bills
Man came by to hook up my cable tv
We settled in for the night my baby and me
We switched 'round and 'round 'til half-past dawn
There was fifty-seven channels and nothin' on
Well now home entertainment was my baby's wish
So i hopped into town for a satellite dish
I tied it to the top of my japanese car
I came home and i pointed it out into the stars
A message came back from the great beyond
There's fifty-seven channels and nothin' on
Well we might'a made some friends with some billionaires
We might'a got all nice and friendly if we'd made it upstairs
All i got was a note that said "bye-bye john
Our love is fifty-seven channels and nothin' on"
So i bought a .44 magnum it was solid steel cast
And in the blessed name of elvis well i just let it blast
'til my tv lay in pieces there at my feet
And they busted me for disturbing the almighty peace
Judge said "what you got in your defense son?"
"fifty-seven channels and nothin' on"
I can see by your eyes friend you're just about gone
Fifty-seven channels and nothin' on...
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paranoia
is what besets
the man who
losing one glove
apiece from two
identical pair
is ready to bet
good money
the remaining two
won't make a set
when the chance they will
is actually fifty-fifty.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Twenty-nine Thousand Four Hundred Seven Sunsets
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
In the early days by my mother’s side,
Though she’d often tell me of the sun and of the sea,
I seldom watched, and never for long,
The slow dissolve,
The melt and plunge,
Now you see it, now you don’t-
So many sunsets lost.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
The years of my youth were marked by friends and sport,
Often whole days on the beach-
Raging winds and mammoth waves
Or a still, glass sea, not a cloud in the sky,
And every shade in between.
I rarely fathomed the myriad shapes and colors,
An ever-changing landscape-
So very many sunsets lost.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
The middle-aged years pinned me to my work;
Yet through a window from time to time,
Or on holiday, if I risked the break,
I’d notice how lovely a sunset could be-
So very many sunsets lost forever.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
At last, in these final days, each sunset is anticipated, craved.
Regardless the mood of the sea, it will receive the sun.
No matter the face of the sky, it will let go the same.
The sun itself, always churning, always burning,
Swells with new brilliance, new radiance and splendor
Each time it approaches the sea,
Then morphs into a molten pool on the sea’s surface
Before plunging from view-
Never more a sunset lost.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
Then one glorious day,
The day of my twenty-nine thousand four hundred and sixth sunset,
And I at my usual place along the shore,
Saw the sun rise out of the sea from where it had just set!
The sun rose back up into the sky, and
In the very next moment on the very same day, it set again.
I experienced my twenty-nine thousand four hundred and seventh sunset,
The second in one day!
Oh glorious day!
A sunset gained.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
(In 2 Kings 20: 9-11 the Lord made the shadow go back 10 steps. Certainly, at that exact moment, somewhere in the world, someone saw the sun dissolve on the horizon and then rise again.)
At some point, I would like to write a book and other things, but I work best when there is some sort of deadline in my own mind, but not when fifty people or fifty million people are breathing down the back of my neck.
quote by Alanis Morissette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At twenty a man is a peacock, at thirty a lion, at forty a camel, at fifty a serpent, at sixty a dog, at seventy an ape, at eighty a nothing at all.
quote by Baltasar Gracian
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fifty percent of people won't vote, and fifty percent don't read newspapers. I hope it's the same fifty percent.
quote by Gore Vidal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After Mature consideration
After mature consideration
When was young I used to feel
how strange it must be to get old.
Now I am old my thoughts still steal
back to when I was young and bold
The only difference I can see
between how I felt then and now
I used to have more energy
and now I have to take things slow.
I used to act impulsively
but now I think before I act.
I cannot spare the energy
I used to waste and that’s a fact.
But on the whole I feel the same
as I did fifty years ago
I am not boasting when I claim
I know more than I used to know.
Back then I knew I knew it all
I know now that I do not know
and what I do I can’t recall
even the little that I should know.
If asked I answer truthfully.
I say that I would rather be
Seventy three than twenty three
I much prefer maturity.
26-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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