I was born old and get younger every day. At present I am sixty years young.
quote by Herbert Beerbohm Tree
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sorrow
I walked into the park and saw a young man sitting by a flower bed
I asked him why he looked so miserable and this is what he said,
“Sixty years ago I fell in love with a beautiful girl and now she has to die
I knew her time would come one day, but the years have just flashed by.
I knew that it was wrong to love her, but my heart ruled over my head.
I was there when she was born at home and I stood by her mother’s bed.
As the years passed I watched over her, and proposed when she was sixteen.
She was so young and beautiful then, and everyday we lived a dream.
She didn’t know that I was different and I just couldn’t bear to tell her so,
but she had suspicions as her hair greyed, and my age didn’t show.
And now my heart is breaking because I want to die and be with my wife,
without her my life isn’t worth living, and I no longer want this life.
For sixty years life has been wonderful for me and my only true love,
but soon I must take her up and leave her in the heavens above.
I don’t know how I’m going to take the woman I adore from my side.
I’m sorry for sharing my sorrow with you, ” and as he left he cried.
poem by Orlando Belo
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A Man For The Ladies
He was the young dad of the sixties he is the old man of today
Married and divorced for the third time that's life as some are known to say
He is seven times a great grandfather one might say his flock multiply
And he is not yet finished with women he says he will give marriage at least one more try,
He is now with one twenty years younger a divorcees of forty one
At the wooing of far younger women he surely is second to none
Some women like their men much older for the father figure they do fall
When it comes to understanding people I know that I know little at all
He was sixty one on his last birthday with brown hair dye he covers his gray
And when it comes to dress and appearance attention to detail he pay
one might say a man for the ladies at wooing them he has known success
His chat up lines seem to be flawless all of the right buttons he seems to press
Yes surely a man for the ladies younger women fall for him in a big way
Yet in love he likes a new challenge and with one he does not seem to stay.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Kiwi Dave
For forty five years I've been working and I'm just an unfettered slave
And I have gray hairs to show for it I am quoting Kiwi Dave
Five years to go to retirement I was sixty last birthday
And ever since I've started working it's been uphill all the way.
My ex wife said that I was a drinker that I was too fond of the booze
That was her excuse for leaving she said I was born to lose
But I take it in moderation after work three or four beers
And I've been a slave for her and for my children for close to if not twenty years.
Fifteen years ago she left me and she went to live with younger bloke
She got more than half my assets for years to her haven't spoke
She turned my son and daughter against me and my six grandchildren I don't see
And I will spend my usual Christmas on my own watching T.V.
Kiwi Dave is a good person though just a little soured by life
And things for him would have been better had he had a faithful wife
'A woman she can make or break you' with that who could disagree
Dave could see the truth in those words for who would know better than he? .
For forty five years he's been working the hard worker Kiwi
Dave
And for his ex wife and his children for years he has been a slave
He looks older far than sixty the hard life has made him gray
Five more years left till retirement it's been uphill all the way.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Write Yours Now
The 'Journal of Death Studies' for April2004
(maybe you read it? It's in the
hospital library, top shelf
just out of wheelchair reach,
on the shelf labelled 'Reference')
observed that
nonfiction writers tend to die, factually, at sixty-eight;
novelists tie it all up at sixty-six;
playwrights lower the curtain at sixty-three,
and poets close their stanzas at sixty-two.
Well, thanks..
six years - looking on the bright side -
for your favourite biographer to write you up;
four years for novelists to borrow
your untidy life and win the Booker Prize;
a year for playwrights to emulate
the bitter dialogue of your later,
less romantic household years
with less fear of being sued.
Those whom the gods love, die young,
said the optimistic poet
shortly before he died.
for PoHo, who gave me the damn book with the reference in.
And yes, I wondered too..
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Younger Days
IM STILL YOUNG AT HEART
I PLAY THE PART
I FEEL SO GOOD, I FEEL SO GOOD
WHEN MADISON SQUARE GARDEN NO LONGER SCREAMS FOR ME
AND THE RECORD COMPAGNIE DONT SEND NO LIMOS FOR ME
AND THE YOUNG GIRLS THEY THINK THAT IM TOO OLD
REFREIN:
I KNOW I BE OKE WHEN I THINK OF THE YOUNG DAYS, THE YOUNG DAYS
WITH A MIKE AND A GUITAR I USED TO RACKET ON ANY STAGE, ANY STAGE
FROM THE HOOD TO THE SUBURBS IN THE THEATER NEAR YOU
THE BIG NEONLIGHTS WHENEVER WE CAME THROUGH
PEOPLE PUSHING THROUGH LIKE THEY DONT NO WHAT TO DO
BOUNCERS SCREAMING HE, HE, HE
AINT NO PUSHING TO THE BACK OF THE LINE
DONT YOU KNOW
EVERYBODYS BOUND TO GET IN
WAIT YOUR TURN
TICKETHOLDERS ARE FIRST ON THE LINE
BUT IT MADE ME FEEL SPECIAL WHEN
A HUNDERD GIRLS RUSHED THAT DOOR
AINT NO WHAT THE BOUNCERS SAY
THEY WENT TO THE CLUB SCREAMING TOM
IT MADE ME FEEL SPECIAL WHEN THE SAY
DJ PLAY THIS REQUEST
ALLRIGHT
THINKING OF MY YOUNGER ROWDY DAYS
I KNOW MY PEOPLE SAY
COME RUSH THE DOOR WE GONNA BOMBRUSH THE DOOR (3*) HE, HE ,HE
COME RUSH THE DOOR WE GONNA BOMBRUSH THE DOOR (3*) HE, HE, HE
WHEN I LOOK IN YOUR EYES THATS THE ONLY STARS I SEE
AND I GO THROUGH NEW YORK WITH NO SECURITY
AND ON THE BILLBOARDS IM NO LONGER NUMBER ONE
REFREIN:I KNOW I BE OKE WHEN I THINK OF THE YOUNG DAYS, THE YOUNG DAYS ETC
IT WAS YOUNG AND ROWDY
NOW IM OLD AND ROWDY
AS LONG AS I STAY ROWDY
NOTHING GONNA BE CLOUDY
REFREIN:
IT WAS GOOD IN SIXTY-FIVE
IT WAS GOOD IN SIXTY-SIX
IT WAS GOOD IN SIXTY-SEVEN
I FELT I WAS IN HEAVEN
IT STILL FEELS GOOD
AFTER ALL THESE YEARS
NOW WERE IN A
NEW MILLENIUM
I CAN DIG IT
I STILL DIG IT
I STILL DO IT
CAUSE I LOVE IT YES I DO-ac
song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Younger Girls
Words and music by robin zander and rick nielsen
Try to bend me, try to shake me
Try and turn my head around
Oh try to change me, rearrange me
I think you know about the boy you found
A fantasy like this is hit and run
Younger girls
Oh how i love those younger girls
Younger girls
Oh how i love those younger girls
I had a dream about girls like you
You said call us, you'll get two
One for your money, two for the show
I'll give you something more
I know,i know,i know,i know
It's hard enough to make you wanna cry
Younger girls
Oh how i love those younger girls
Younger girls
Oh how i love those younger girls
It's hard enough to make you wanna cry
And it drives me out of my mind
I'm in love with you, baby
My poor innocent baby
Don't you say maybe
Younger girls
Oh how i love those younger girls
Younger girls
Oh how i love those younger girls
Feels so good, let me in
I might jump right out of my skin
Don't you ever grow up little girl
Sweet young thing, not so innocent
Younger girls
Oh how i love those younger girls
Younger girls
Oh how i love those younger girls
(repeat to coda)
song performed by by Cheap Trick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Was Made To Feel Different In My Younger Years
I remember sitting in the corners of shadows.
Wishing to be invisible,
After making attempts to disappear.
I was made to feel different in my younger years.
My voice was deep at the age of twelve.
And my knees knocked.
I was aware I walked pigeon toed.
I was made to feel different in my younger years.
People were quick to critique me then.
When they would laugh at me.
I laughed right back at them to hide and cry alone.
I was made to feel different in my younger years.
I grew wiser before I aged.
And years it would take for me to learn to forgive.
But I did with a doing successfully.
I was made to feel different in my younger years.
Perceptive, empathetic and sometimes distant.
Removed from anguish I knew others felt.
Yet today I might sit with periodic embitterness.
I was made to feel different in my younger years.
I've learned to use my talents and gifts,
To lift me beyond any loneliness that visited.
And with slow and painful steps I grew to improve.
I was made to feel different in my younger years.
And when I self examine to reflect...
So happy I am to have held on to my patience,
With a giving to others a respect regardless...
If little of it was shown to me,
When I was growing to bloom.
I was made to feel different in my younger years.
Hungering then to be accepted.
I was made to feel different in my younger years.
Hungering then not to be neglected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Elah
Abraham left all that he had to Isaac and,
Gifts to the sons of his concubines;
So try to give out more than to receive.
Isaac was forty years old when he married Rebekah,
And sixty years old when Esau and Yaaqob were born;
But the older shall serve the younger at all times and,
You must always give out than to receive.
Mahlon's widow,
Like Rachel and Leah;
Of the gnats on man and the dense swarms of flies;
But do the right thing always to gain the love of man.
Try to learn to give out always,
Try to teach and be very humble at all times,
For we are all on this earth to share with one another.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Beyond My Years
I cannot think beyond my years
but every day that goes
I look back on the younger years
and am encouraged by those.
For the past becomes the bridges
that brought me to today.
I don't burn the bridges behind me
for they've shown me the way.
I keep my focus on present moments
and never on the past.
Even the moments that I'm living now
are ones that will not last.
The future is always the unknown.
It's a time beyond my years.
Unfamiliararity with what will come to me
are my adventures with new frontiers.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Happy Birthday Love
For my wife who is -? Today
Today is your birthday
and you are telling everyone
that you are twenty-one years young.
The children don’t believe it
as it makes you younger that them.
When you tell them they say,
“In your dreams, mum.”
However, having said that
you are twenty-one to me
still filled with love and vitality.
We’re still young as when we fell in love
and today is your birthday.
You are sure to have a good one
surrounded by friends and family.
That is all I have to say except
Happy Birthday Love,
have a wonderful day.
Your loving husband David,
the one born down on the funny farm.
8 March 2008
poem by David Harris
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For My Sister On Her Sixty- Fifth Birthday
FOR MY SISTER ON HER SIXTY- FIFTH BIRTHDAY
Where have the years gone?
My sister -
The most beautiful the kindest little girl on First Street Troy New York
Is sixty-five years old today-
Where have the years gone?
How can I ever thank her
For the devotion with which she cared for my parents
In those most difficult last years?
How can I ever say how much her being the only witness
Left with me of that world then
Means to me?
How can I say how happy I am for her
That she has raised with her husband
Four loving and caring daughters
That she made quite late in life
A name and career for herself?
Above all that she is still the good caring person
Who with her mother’s practicality
Makes the best of what life gives.
My prayer is for health and blessing for her
And her family
In the years ahead.
God gave me only one sister
Thank God it is Joycie.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Sixty Years Ago
I
The double-blossomed peach-trees with rosy bloom were gay
When grandpa rode beneath them upon his courting way,
From the white gate to the homestead they stretched in stately row,
And showered his path with petals, just sixty years ago.
His riding suit was spick and span, his jingling bridle rein,
Was polished to the limit, his top-boots shone again;
A mass of youthful vanity, from curly head to toe,
Was my darling gay young grandpa – just sixty years ago.
Upon the broad veranda, demure my grandma sat,
And hid her girlish blushes beneath her garden hat,
Her dainty flowing muslins enfolded her like snow;
Ah! Very sweet my grandma was, just sixty years ago.
With sweeping bow and fluttering heart he told his hopes and fears,
And grandma gently said him ‘Yea’, mid blushes, smiles and tears.
When the double-blossomed peach-trees with fruit were bending low,
Good Father Flynn united them – just sixty years ago.
II
There’s a sound of mirthful revel in the dear old home to-night,
Where the merry young folk frolic ‘neath the incandescent light,
Jazzing on the broad veranda, listening to the radio,
Knowing wonders quite undreamt of in the days of long ago.
On the vine-enclosed veranda, sits my grandpa in his chair,
And the flower-scented night winds stirs the white locks of his hair;
Grandma sits and smiles beside him, happy in the young folks glee,
Such a dainty dear old lady, ever young at heart is she.
And the harvest of their labours in the moonlight stretches wide
All the land they’ve won and toiled for as they struggled side by side,
In their brave old eyes no shadow from the griefs of gone-by years,
For their hearts beat high within them – dauntless breed of pioneers.
Hand in hand they sit together, while the angels smile above,
On their long unbroken record of faith, sacrifice and love;
From the double-blossomed peach trees come the petals falling slow,
Bringing sweet and fadeless memories of Sixty Years ago.
poem by Alice Guerin Crist
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The Sugar Daddy's Woman
He is seventy four and she is twenty seven with light brown and wavy shoulder length hair
You've guessed right to say he is a sugar daddy one of the Town's wealthier a known millionaire
She feels she is better off with him than with one of her own age a fellow with only a few dollars to spare
He buys her a good time and he treats her as special and for her he does seem to genuinely care.
She is happy to be the sugar daddy's woman money speaks every language and 'tis always been that way
An old man with money better than a poor young bloke who will be a battler until his dying day
The Local young blokes of the older bloke jealous they find it hard to come to terms with how he
Could be going to bed with the Town's fairest young woman without realizing they are restricted by their poverty.
Than seventy four he looks many years younger at a guess one might say from fifty to fifty two
Amazing what a face lift and a bottle of brown hair dye as well as some makeup for an old face can do
She carries her first child it will be his seventh yet he feels as proud as any younger father to be
Her son or her daughter into wealth will be born and that sounds better than being born into poverty.
Despite she being pregnant she does look quite radiant her sugar daddy for her left his old wife
Money speaks every language seems all too apparent and she can look forward to a better life
Than being with one of her own age struggling to make ends meet when poverty bites in love quickly decay
And though she does not love her sugar daddy she does love his money a good reason with him why she ought to stay.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I've been dating younger men since my 20s, When I was 29, I dated someone 21... younger men are just more fun. I like their energy. I've always been kind of young for my age.
quote by Dana Delany
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rzhepicks(10)
October revolution –
today’s pension.
***
Morning today
becomes yesterday.
***
Everything is going nice,
everything is just precise.
But ….they are all lies.
***
All women are young,
but…..some are younger.
***
I am not sad,
I am sober.
***
I am not a present,
I am a surprise.
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Eddie O Mahony
He never more will walk in the Town of Millstreet in St Mary's cemetery at peace he lay
Perhaps in his mid forties to his early fifties he did die young and it would be fair to say
Of him that he was really a nice person he made so many friends along life's way
And one day his lot it will be our lot as for each of us there is a final day.
In his younger years Eddie O Mahony played Soccer and Gaelic Football in Brian Sullivan's Mal Paso pub he was well known
His family and his many friends will mourn him and Murphy's Terrace and Millstreet Town has lost one of it's own
He seemed so young for to go to the reaper but suppose he was not meant for to grow old
But in the Mal Paso pub his old mates will recall him when stories of the good days will be told.
A youngish man he had so much to live for he did not live for to die as an old man
The reaper takes the young and old and ageing though short in time is the longest life span
One can only hope for Eddie that his end was peaceful that at his end he did not suffer pain
He was well known and well liked around Millstreet and with those who knew him good memories of him will remain.
Pre-deceased by his beloved father Dan O, Eddie is one his friends always will recall
In his younger years as i can well remember he played Sports, Soccer and Gaelic Football
He died as a young enough man that seems so sad of years he did not even reach three score
And he will be sadly missed from the Mal Paso and may he rest in peace forever more.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Soon after I was born, my parents moved to the South Florida area, and I've lived here ever since (with a few years of living in both Portugal and Brazil in my younger days).
When We Were Young
WHEN WE WERE YOUNG
1)
When we were young
The world was young
Now we are old
And the world is old too.
2)
When we were young
The world was young
Now we are old
And the world is younger
than we are.
3)
When the world was young
I was not young
Now I am old
And the world is older- also.
4)
To be old is to be sadder
So much is not here any more
One will never be
What one was-
One can still hope faintly to be
One what longed to be-
But one knows
This too probably
Will not be given.
5)
Oh how Youth flies by in it all its glory
Oh how Time leaves us alone
With our memories and sadnesses
Our fears
For what is yet to come.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Genesis BK XIX
(ll. 1167-1180) And after Cainan Mahalaleel possessed the land
and treasure many a year. The prince lived five-and-sixty
winters, and begat a son. An heir was born unto his house, and
his kinsmen called him Jared, as I have heard. Mahalaleel lived
long, enjoying bliss on earth, the joys of men, and worldly
treasure. And all the years of Mahalaleel were eight hundred
five-and-ninety winters, and he died, and gave the land and rule
unto his son.
(ll. 1180-1196) A long time Jared dealt out gold to men. He was
a righteous prince, a noble earl, dear to his kinsmen He lived
an hundred five-and-sixty winters in the world, and, when her
time was come, his wife brought forth her first-born, a goodly
son. And his name was Enoch. Eight hundred years his father
lived, and increased his tribe. And all the years of Jared were
nine hundred five-and-sixty winters, and he died, and gave the
land and rule unto his son, the wise and well-loved prince.
(ll. 1197-1217) And Enoch ruled the folk, led them in ways of
peace, and no wise let his sway and power lessen, while he was
lord over his kinsmen. Now Enoch prospered and increased his
tribe three hundred years. And God, the Lord of heaven, was
gracious unto him! In his natural body he entered into heavenly
joy and the glory of God, dying no mortal death as men do here,
the young and old, what time God taketh from them wealth and
substance and earthly treasure and their life; but with the King
of angels he departed still alive out of this fleeting life, in
the same vestments which his soul received before his mother bare
him. He left the people to his eldest son. And all the years of
Enoch were three hundred five-and-sixty winters, and he died.
(ll. 1217-1224) Then Methuselah held sway among his kinsmen, and
longest of all men enjoyed the pleasures of this world. He begat
a multitude of sons and daughters before his death. And all the
years of Methuselah were nine hundred and seventy winters, and he
died.
(ll. 1224-1236) And Lamech, his son, succeeded him and kept the
treasure. Long time he ruled the land. He lived an hundred and
two winters, and begat children. And the lord and leader of the
folk lived five hundred five-and-ninety years, enjoying many
winters under heaven, ruling the folk with wisdom. And Lamech
increased his tribe, begetting sons and daughters. He called the
name of the first-born Noah; and Noah ruled the land after the
death of Lamech.
(ll. 1237-1247) Now Noah, the lord of men, lived five hundred
winters, as the books say, and begat children. The first-born
son of Noah was Shem, and the second Ham, and the third Japheth.
And the folk grew in number under heaven, and the multitude of
the race of men increased throughout the earth. The tribe of
Seth, the well-loved prince, was still exceeding dear to God, and
blessed in His love!
Old Madge
Old Madge who is in her late eighties is suffering from failing sight
But her memory it is flawless and she remains lucid and bright
She has vivid memories of her childhood which she feels happy to recall
I've had a good life she will tell you but my childhood years were best of all,
Her two great grand daughters are in their mid teens she says them I often do see
They are kind and lovely young ladies they always have been good to me
Her husband Tom died ten years ago they were married for fifty years
His end it was so slow and painful and memories of him still move her to tears
But she has got on with living life she says we cannot dwell in the past
The present is all that does matter though nothing in life seems to last
She surely is an inspiration the Madges of this World are rare
And though her sight it is slowly fading she is one unburdened by care
She always is happy and cheerful and she looks younger than her age
And from her life experiences she has learned much she surely is a female sage.
poem by Francis Duggan
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