In Silence No More
Aged 1
Aged 2
Aged 3
Aged 4
At 5 my life changed forever more,
Aged 6
Aged 7
Aged 8
Aged 9
By 10 he’d touched me a thousand times,
Aged 41
42
43
44
But now I’m not suffering in silence,
In silence anymore,
For now I’m chatting and talking,
Not crawling I’m walking,
Even though he’s still stalking,
I’m not suffering in silence,
Suffering in silence,
I’m not suffering in silence,
In silence no more.
poem by Darren Harris
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Related quotes
Aged tree
Under the aged tree
Where we use to sing
Who is in the garden
The tree of my forefather
The unforgettable aged tree
Under the aged tree
Where we listen
To the story of our land
The dove and the jackal
An unforgettable story
Under the aged tree
Where my forefathers
Wept for freedom till death
May there soul rest in peace
And may the story of the aged tree lives in me
poem by Towobola pelumi miktobz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The old one is expert
I bring my sexy buttocks;
Them, boys don’t know to act on.
You, the aged, must be an expert.
Turn me around and ride.
I bring my two sexy breasts;
Them, boys don’t know how to handle.
You, the aged, must be an expert.
Hold me under and kneed.
I bring my hot rosy lips;
Them, boys don’t know how to lock.
You, the aged, must be an expert.
Lift me up close and bruise.
I bring my burning lobes;
Them, boys don’t know how to pound on.
You, the aged, must be an expert.
Lay me on bed and tear.
I want a long, hard foreplay;
That boys aren’t patient to employ.
You, the aged, won’t be in hurry.
Bring me to orgasm and have glory.
26.09.2006.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Aged.
The aged.
Shuffling, snuffling ruffling.
Like leaves fallen from a tree.
Losing their colour
Gradually.
Washed up like memories
That float in the bay.
Grey.
The aged.
Young at heart
But their house is dilapidated.
Falling apart,
Decor not anticipated,
When they were 21.
Laughing in the sun.
Done.
The aged.
Wheezing, freezing seizing
From head to toe.
And waiting is so slow.
Burning candle low.
Awaiting one last blow.
Creaking,
Leaking.
The family turning away.
Ships pass in the night,
Never stay.
You're not drowning,
You're waving goodbye.
Sigh.
The aged,
That rage in silence.
Evaporate.
As the embers
Die in the grate.
Their cry
This world cannot hear.
They wait with toes curled in fear.
But-
Love soothes their soul.
As the Lord takes control.
And they roll
With the tide of the air.
In the light
That had sprung from nowhere.
On the promise
Of long ago prayer.
So prepare.
poem by Kevin East
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Release From Locked Up Cages Aged
Release from locked up cages,
Aged.
Release from locked up cages,
Aged.
Release from locked up cages...
Aged.
Release from locked up cages.
Come everyone...
Release from locked up cages.
Come under the Sun...
Release from locked up cages.
Come feel the breezes.
With fresh air to keep!
And make it yours,
In your mind.
Get more than you need.
And...
Release from locked up cages.
Shake off the rust.
Release from locked up cages.
What's there to lust?
Or trust.
Worthy of your cussing.
Come everyone...
Release from locked up cages.
Come under the Sun...
Release from locked up cages.
Come feel the breezes.
With fresh air to keep!
And make it yours,
In your mind.
Get more than you need.
And...
Release from locked up cages,
Aged.
Release from locked up cages,
Aged.
Release from locked up cages...
Aged.
Release!
Be freed,
From locked up cages aged.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The long, dull, monotonous years of middle-aged prosperity or middle-aged adversity are excellent campaigning weather for the devil.
quote by C.S. Lewis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bittersweet is age
In the end, we all die but once.
Most die but one time and one time alone.
But what tempers the sweetness of living long
Is the bitter sweetness
That the aged wearily carry to their grave.
The fact is, that the aged will have died
Many times over in their life
While the young and the innocent
…have to die only once…
poem by David Whalen
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An Aged Man's Poem
An aged man’s poem
Need not rage;
Peace and quiet
Calm the page-
Courage in sickness
And through pain-
Loving kindness
For all who remain.
Words of comfort
For longtime friends -
Resignation
Before the end.
An aged’s man’s poem
Should hopefully be
Blessing and Trust
In Eternity-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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There are two barriers that often prevent communication between the young and their elders. The first is middle-aged forgetfulness of the fact that they themselves are no longer young. The second is youthful ignorance of the fact that the middle aged are still alive.
quote by Jessamyn West
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Tea Shop
The girl in the tea shop
Is not so beautiful as she was,
The August has worn against her.
She does not get up the stairs so eagerly;
Yes, she also will turn middle-aged,
And the glow of youth that she spread about us
As she brought us our muffins
Will be spread about us no longer.
She also will turn middle-aged.
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Auschwitz
Once I overheard a middle-aged Jewish woman
talking to her Rabbi
telling him of how she and a friend
travelled to Auschwitz
and finding so much sadness there
decided to do something happy
as if to spite the sadness.
So they danced on the railway line
leading to that camp of death-
two middle-aged women holding each other.
This to me say so much about the human spirit.
If I could I would paint a picture.
Will someone paint it for me please?
poem by Gillian Commerford
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Ch 06 On Weakness And Old Age Story 08
An old man, having been asked why he did not marry, replied that he could not be happy with an aged woman, and on being told that as he was a man of property, he might take a young one, he said: ‘I being an old man and unwilling to associate with an old woman, how could a young one conceive friendship for me who am aged?’
Let not a man of seventy years make love.
Thou art confessedly blind, kiss her and sleep.
The lady wants strength, not gold.
One passage is preferable to her than ten mann of flesh.
Forever Saying Goodbye
we are forever saying goodbye
goodbye, goodbye, goodbye let me repeat
the child who has grown into a young man
would remain a fond memory, like how we remember
a childhood friend who was always at our side
the young man who has matured into the middle aged
will remember him as someone who have looked
for so many things in thirty years only to get
only some things; a trail of disappointments to
spice up his memory as he bade the young man goodbye
the middle aged suddenly discovers that he
is not as young anymore, his eyes, his legs,
his hair, his stamina have all started to nag to him
that they are not as before, taking duties
promptly and without shortcoming; they have
all taken a turn for the the middle aged
who will soon teach his children happiness is the
best medicine of all and that life should be
focussed on finding that without hurting anyone
the octogenarian takes over the the steps
of the middled age and they have slowed
so much sometimes he cannot even do it
without the help of someone or a stick
the octogenarian who will tell us that a life
of charity is better than one lived alone;
an all important lesson from the silver haired who will
soon bid goodbye to himself, the world and us all
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Some Bodies
Some bodies are so well lived in
they look older than their time.
Hard living has aged
every crease, wrinkle and line.
They look much older
than they really should.
Their expressions is worn out,
their laughter thin and bare.
The life they’ve lead
has taken the toll there.
The youth they should have
has disappeared without trace,
now all everyone sees is hardness,
no softness or grace.
Many things can cause this aged look upon a face,
that’s worn and tired look, long before its time.
Some say it is caused by this and that,
but no one is really sure.
Only that it happens
and it could to anyone.
21 June 2008
poem by David Harris
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Eternal Silence
Silence
Silence when we are walking,
Silence when we think,
Silence is what fills us all,
With a binding eternal link.
Silence in the little children,
Silence in the adults,
Silence wrapping around us all,
Silence pulsing in the walls.
Silence fills this hollow world,
Silence is the choice we make,
Silence is the death of this all,
Silence is our fate.
poem by Okami Kamikaze
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Europe to me is young people trying to appear middle-aged and middle-aged people trying to appear young.
quote by Mike Myers
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Tossing Chairs
four hundred to be exact
onto rolling racks
perfectly to be stacked
every single, solitary night
tossing chairs
until the dawns' early light
I often must gaze
with my head in the air
peeking upward in wild wonder
toothpicks in the ceiling
are you freaking kidding me
is this a modern aged college genius
who fail to see
is this why we're here to clean
to clean up after pompous kids
oh well, I guess it is what it is
little aged souls
being little punks
whipping broken bread crumbs into
little chunks
poem by Matt Mondschein
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You're not middle aged yet you think?
Old age then your back aches
Becomes a viaduct arch of pain
Foundation's get subsidence
You lose 10inches all elegance
In thought your opinion's tower
Your judgments still acquire
Unremitting unquestioned respect
Old age is senile let's not forget
You're misunderstood too proud
To listen to wear a hearing aid
Yelling above the common crowd
False Orange tan what a masquerade
A grandmother in her pre-war paint
An atheist till age 78 still hitting town
So I mock the aged and the antiquated?
'You're not middle aged yet you think? Oh you silly clown'…
poem by Mark Heathcote
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Sonnet: in Old Age
All life they slogged till crept on them old age!
Their children were the pupils of their eyes;
By habit still, to work they yet manage,
With spirit good, weary their body lies.
The toil they put is ‘yond an estimate;
Their loving service is just very great;
They wait for Time’s scythe to emancipate;
Disgruntled world, they can never satiate.
What a wretched world, this happens to be!
Unprepared even now, their senescence is;
Busy children care not for elderly;
But wise old-aged humans on earth’s a bliss!
’tis sad when strikes old-age the aged its gong!
The frail figures cannot withstand for long.
poem by John Celes
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Like A Young Fig Tree
Like a young fig tree
you were, on the cliffs.
And when I passed by
you rang in the mountains.
Like the young fig tree,
brilliant and blind.
Like a fig tree you are.
Like an ancient fig.
And I pass, and you greet me
with dry leaves and silence.
Like a fig tree you are
that the lightning has aged.
poem by Miguel Hernandez
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Sonnet: My Mother in Old-age
Octogenarian now, how well she writes,
My mother to me still, in her own hand!
The Scriptures, good advice, how well she cites!
Her old-aged pen serves like a fairy’s wand!
She has been doing thus for years and years;
Though old-aged, by sheer will-power she lives;
Tho’ slightly deaf and blocked by wax, her ears;
Her eyes see well! What advice she just gives!
Her only plea to me was to write back;
I used to visit her often, not now;
Of keeping children good, she had the knack;
She is my mother great who has such love.
God give her health of body, mind, I pray;
Indeed, she is my mother sweet, I say.
poem by John Celes
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