Everything Ages
Everything ages
Even bricks and mortar-
I was here at the beginning of this neighborhood thirty years ago
When all was fresh and new-
Now there is rust and chipped paint
On buildings that sag in tiredness-
It is not only the people
But the things of the world
Which age and die-
Time will take all
And these stones too will not be here one day.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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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Visiting Home
Today I took a trip back-
in time
Standing in a puddle of
deja vu, smack dab
in my childhood
neighborhood
Oh how things had
changed-
It was full of
chipped paint
dying flowers
and broken cars
I guess age took
it's toll-
Things looked old and
broken
I closed my eyes and-
clicked my heels
hoping for a
gift from Oz.
Finally I ran into
something familiar-
We called it
" the big tree"
The place where
we shared our blood
oath secrets
and carved our
initials and
scared club
vows-
I climbed aged
twisted pretzel branches
and found my prized seat
Aged oak still felt the same-
comfortable and safe
All the carvings were
still as we had left
them
I even managed to
remember our
secret language
Somethings still remain
the same-
As the neighborhood
crumbles around it
That tree holds
some of the
best years of my
childhood.
poem by Robin Bennett
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The Tiredness Of Old Age Is A Terrible Tiredness
THE TIREDNESS OF OLD AGE IS A TERRIBLE TIREDNESS
The tiredness of old age is a terrible tiredness-
It is a tiredness which knows it will die if it cannot sleep.
It is just so so weary and weak
‘Willpower' says nothing to it.
The tiredness of old age is a terrible tiredness
Which does not have the strength
Not to give in to itself-
It is a tiredness of no resistance
And incredible impatience
To just lie down forever-
It will give anything to be out of feeling itself
It will give its life gladly just to stop feeling the way it does.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Straight Pathway
My opening of the doors created folly,
Abhor those who sit and wait, with ice.
The life of plenty condemns nobody,
Letting fences be built for the gardens.
Return to the grass, if a straight course
Means a pathway to the enemy.
Buildings of bricks and mortar
Shall make offerings to Nature.
My opening of the door to Nature
Is like that of the entrance to Time.
poem by Naveed Akram
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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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Rust
Rust
Brown.
Cracked,
Chipped.
Burnt,
Orange.
Nothing
Is
Rust,
But
Dust.
© 2012
poem by Nick Strong
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Turn To Rust
turn down the wick!
there's a time for fighting,
a time for prayer, and
a time for just being...
in stillness.
you and i have felt things,
known things, seen things,
that most people never notice
in their mad rush to the grave!
feel the wind blowing through
the alleys, tugging at the doors
of vacant buildings... you know
its name... it has been
your lover, and your companion!
watch the sunlight dancing through
the shadows, lapping up darkness
like a thirsty dog... i am that dog!
the whispering moan of the grass
turning brown in the heat....
as our lives, and our loving
turn to rust!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Rings Of Gold
Gene thomas
I remember when you said
With this ring I thee wed
Now youve gone betrayed my trust
Rings of gold have turned to rust
Tears cant wash away the sin
Love thats dead cant live again
Knowing theres no hope for us
Turns those rings of gold to rust
Plans we made just yesterday
Sands of time have chipped away
Now theyve crumbled into dust
Love before was clean and pure
Never more can I be sure
You will not betray my trust
Rings of gold have turned to rust
Rings of gold have turned to rust
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sawn in Half
Her languid, prime speech drawls
‘tells it like it is’ tongue
skims stones, creates ripples
ushers vowels
past her white overbite_
I catch every exhaled pebble
from her gravelly voice
stoned on cigarettes and cider.
Her bricks and mortar vernacular
graduate to polysyllabic
mortar board remarks.
I am magically sawn_
in half by the me
drawn to her accomplished artistry,
the poet to the page,
and my jaw agape
at her sandy hair framing cheeky smirk
finding gems in conversational trivia
stoking the embers, stirring the pot
with ‘school of hard knocks’ confidence.
Composing is like driving down a foggy road toward a house. Slowly you see more details of the house-the color of the slates and bricks, the shape of the windows. The notes are the bricks and the mortar of the house.
quote by Benjamin Britten
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm Tired Of It All
I am tired of it all
I am tired of today
I am tired of the summer heat-
I am tired of all the years of trying to be something
And still being nothing and no one
I am tired of myself and my ambition
I am tired of reading the great poems of others
I am tired of Poetry
I am tired of being old
I am tired of no longer having the means to help those I care for-
I am tired of having written for so many years
And having so little to show for it-
I am tired of being an old man getting older -
I am tired of being afraid of what is going to happen to me
And those close to me
I am tired of having so many sick friends-
I am tired of having more and more people I have known who are dead
I am tired of a world in which violence and stupidity play such a great part
I am tired of all the problems that should have been solved years ago
And yet persist-
I am tired of cruelty
I am tired of rudeness and petty selfishness
I am tired of seeing the evil get away with it
I am tired truly tired
Tired of being tired also
Tired of myself and my complaints-
And my failure all these years
To make things right-
And yet and yet with all the tiredness
I know there is so much else even in myself-
I still want to live and dream and hope and help those I love
I still want to write still a few lines of poetry
that will be read by others
And help them
Dream to begin again
I still want to give to those I love
The little I still have to give
I still want to live
For life itself is life itself is still good
Despite the tiredness.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Winters Walk
This winters day defies the season
The sun kissed lanes resonate with atmosphere
Kent in the sun a delight to mind and eye.
Yet few invade the quiet wayside lanes
Isolation is a joy, a cleansing from people
From the noise and clamour of this world
Where value is found in man made things
Bricks and mortar, stokes and shares.
Here all is free, the sun, the scene, the air.
Such peace invades the tissues of the mind
Creating inner cleansing, true value, self worth.
poem by James Tipp
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Chinese buildings are like American buildings, with big footprints. People don't care about daylight or fresh air.
quote by Helmut Jahn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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On The Front Line
I am a fireman here at home
And I put my life on the front line everyday
To save the people from burning buildings
Or from car accidents
Someday I am very lucky because I am able to save people from burning
Buildings and car accidents
But other days I am not so lucky because it depends where the fire is on The building
Sometimes I have to climb all the way to the top of the buildings
Very fast to save the people from the burning buildings here at home
Other times the fire on the buildings happened on the lower floor
Yes there had been times that I could not save the people from the
Buildings here at home because the buildings here at home had been Engulfed with smoke and all the people that live there died
Yes that was a very bad scene to see
At the end of the night I go home for my kids and my wife
When I arrive home my kids and my wife are already sleeping in bed
I don't have very much time to spend with my children
Because of my work
I don't enjoy being a fireman but the pay is good
So I don't have anything to complain about
I never talk about my work at home
At home I talk about different things to my wife and kids
But I know that my day starts very early everyday
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Diamonds and Rust
I'll be damned, here comes your ghost again
but that's not unusual
it's just that the moon is full
and you decided to come
And here I sit, hand on the telephone
hearing the voice I'd known
a couple of light years ago
headed straight for a fall
But we both know what memories can bring
they bring Diamonds and Rust
yes we both know what memories can bring
they bring Diamonds and Rust
Now I see you standing with brown leaves all around and snow in your hair
Now we're smiling out the window of the crummy hotel over washington square
and then comes that white clouds, mingles and hangs in the air
Speaking strictly for me
we both could've died then and there
Now you're telling me you're not nostalgic
then give me another word for it
you were so good with words
and at keeping things paid
cause I need some of that vagueness now, it's all come back too clearly
yes, I love you dearly
and if you're offering me diamonds and rust
I've already paid
But we both know what memories can bring
they bring Diamonds and Rust
yes we both know what memories can bring
they bring Diamonds and Rust
Diamonds, Diamonds and Rust
Diamonds, Diamonds and Rust
Diamonds, Diamonds and Rust
Diamonds, Diamonds and Rust
song performed by by Judas Priest, music by Judas Priest, lyrics by Joan Baez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am Surrounded By My Own Tiredness
I AM SURROUNDED BY MY OWN TIREDNESS
I am surrounded by my own tiredness
Sickness makes me too slow to escape-
I try to write
But my mind too cannot defy its own prison –
I have written many poems
And I have gotten away from pain before
But I am not young anymore
And the fear of death plays too upon the darkness of my soul –
I know I will get out this time-
The sun is almost here -
I am a master of evading my own sadder moods
But inside and far away
I do not know –
At the end of the day
There is a sleep which may give no rest,
And an end to tiredness
that need not mean
An easier breath.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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And So It Goes
A mansion on a hill is a lovely sight to see
But like any other house, its only temporary
Home is anywhere you choose to put your heart;
If theres no love inside, itll soon fall apart.
Ashes to ashes, dust into dust
Buildings will crumble, bridges will rust
Mountains will disappear, rivers will dry up
And so it goes with everything but love
And so it goes, with everything but love
You can drive around in a long limosine
If you dont know where youre going, it dont mean a thing
He whod walk a mile, just to hold an empty hand
Knows what it means, to be a wealthy man
Ashes to ashes, dust into dust
Buildings will crumble, bridges will rust
Mountains will disappear, rivers will dry up
And so it goes with everything but love
And so it goes, with everything but love
Worldly treasures will all pass away
Theres just one thing thats put here to stay
Ashes to ashes, dust into dust
Buildings will crumble, bridges will rust
Mountains will disappear, rivers will dry up
And so it goes with everything but love
And so it goes, with everything but love
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bricks and mortar make a house, but the laughter of children makes a home.
I provide the bricks and mortar with the words and situations - the director and the actors and the designers build the house.
quote by Eric Bogosian
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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