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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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

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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

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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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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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Those Who Believe They Are Ageless
The streets are full with aging teenagers.
And those who believe they are ageless!
Irresponsible and socializing their whims.
Those who can not get enough of 'happy hour'...
24/7 and some!
Those are the ones who befriend their children,
With a lack of parenting and a breakdown of discipline!
Those are the ones who confront teachers,
To defend their disrespecting children...
As if that is an honor to show up,
After their offspring have been tossed out!
And those are the ones shouting the loudest.
They can not understand why their children aren't learning!
Those are the ones...
Who do not listen.
But argue their voices aren't being heard!
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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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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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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Wean And Break
In places,
Where most minds of people are stuck.
As if certain parts of their bodies,
Have been encased in braces.
With an aging done,
But no growing up is faced by anyone.
So much of what an adult does,
That goes sight unseen...
Is missed by the children.
And that which the children aren't made aware,
Reflects the despair.
In an uncaring, despair sharing environment.
And dependency becomes to be,
A difficult habit...
To wean and break away,
One's taste of it.
Ask any addict who has tried to resist.
In places,
Where most minds of people are stuck.
As if certain parts of their bodies,
Have been encased in braces.
With an aging done,
But no growing up is faced by anyone.
Dependency becomes to be,
A difficult habit...
To wean and break away,
One's taste of it.
Ask any addict who has tried to resist.
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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Being here allows me to make the case that not all aging, narcissistic movie actors whose children could be mistaken for their grandchildren necessarily act with the same motivation.
quote by Warren Beatty

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Are No Children Here
The untrained eye
Walks down the street
And sees children
But they're not children
There are no children here
Adults look back
With hungry eyes
And someone thinks
''They're just children
With a mother and a father
Never any fear''
And they kid themselves
As there are no mothers
No fathers
Because there are no children here
Terror doesn't care
As they cry over there
It lets someone stare
Through the sight of a gun
Seeing everyone
And just for fun
Shoot them
People rush around crying
''But they were just children!
They were just children! ''
A man with a gun
Turns and runs
But as he does they hear
''They aren't children''
And
''They weren't children''
And
''You need to know:
There are no children here''
No one makes a sound
Listening to the truth he's found
And they know:
It's our fault
We didn't save them
We could have saved them
If we cared
There would be children here
poem by Violet Llewellyn

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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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Mad dogs and Englishmen
And so it came to be
That the children of Albion lay
Burnt to a cinder in the shade
Hiding now from the sun
That only yesterday they so much adored
And absorbed.
Peeling skins and aging grins.
Mad dogs and Englishmen.
poem by David Lacey

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What My Mom Left Me (Novelinee)
Sometimes memories of my Mom and me
an aging daughter's stories of delight
my children often hear quite randomly,
her love for art that bless with hand and sight.
She taught me skills and crafts I now pass on
her lessons to the next generations,
wise use of time for things that can be done
with hobbies, joy is the compensation,
in times of need, the handy solution.
My Mom loved to sew and make home decors from scrap cloth and ribbons - a hobby we learned as children. I set up a home business with my daughters making these things and this wall decor is one of our products.
Novelinee - 9 lines in 10 syllables, with ab/ab/cd/cd/d rhyme scheme.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello

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This Changing World
This changing world...
where children hear
not only the voice of their mother
where children eat
not only the food that their mother cooked
where children sing
not only the songs of their native tongue
where children no longer play
with butterflies outdoor...
We need to be more stronger
more wiser
more confident
more understanding
more loving
more caring
and more connected
to one another
to make this changing world
a better place to live
for our children.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano

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In The Shade of Fading Misrepresentation
Hey...
You can not still be there aging,
In the shade of fading misrepresentation?
That presentation has nowhere to go.
Even coverups are being unmasked.
Those tasks have been witnessed,
To be quite relentless.
There are no rainbows,
Thay will be forthcoming from those shadows.
Hey...
You can not still be there aging,
In the shade of fading misrepresentation?
If I can see you clearly...
You must realize how much of this life,
You are missing!
If I can see you...
Believe me when I say I have seen much change!
And you,
Obviously have not done either!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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What children know (understand)
Children know laughter
They know tears
Children know peace
They know chaos
Children know acceptance
They know rejection
Children know joy
They know pain
Children know abundance
They know lack
Children know health
They know illness
Children know fulfillment
They know emptiness
Children know hope
They know dismay
Children know love
They know hatred
What they don’t know is WHY!
poem by Namie Elisha

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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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