[FSUSN: QJ6419370] [Aging] Forgetfulness By: Billy Collins
The name of the author is the first to go
followed obediently by the title, the plot,
the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel
which suddenly becomes one you have never read,
never even heard of,
as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor
decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain,
to a little fishing village where there are no phones.
Long ago you kissed the names of the nine Muses goodbye
and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag,
and even now as you memorize the order of the planets,
something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps,
the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay.
Whatever it is you are struggling to remember,
it is not poised on the tip of your tongue,
not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen.
It has floated away down a dark mythological river
whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall,
well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those
who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle.
No wonder you rise in the middle of the night
to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war.
No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted
out of a love poem that you used to know by heart.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poem/26905#poem
[FSUSN: QJ6419370] [Aging] By: Jonathan Goldman
How do I know that my youth is all spent?
Well, my get up and go has got up and went,
But in spite of it all I am able to grin.
When I think of the places my get up has been.
Old age is golden, So I've heard said
But sometimes I wonder, as I get into bed.
With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup
And my eyes on the table until I wake up.
Ere sleep dims my eyes I say to myself
"Is there anything else I can put on the shelf?"
And I'm happy to say as I close the door
"My friends are the same, perhaps even more."
When I was a young thing my slippers were red,
I could kick my heels as high as my head.
Then when I was older, my slippers were blue,
But still I could walk the whole day through.
Now I'm still older, my slippers are black.
I walk to the store and puff my way back.
The reason I know my youth is all spent,
My get up and go has got up and went.
But really, I don't mind when I think with a grin,
Of all the grand places my get up has been.
Since I have retired from life's competition
I busy myself with complete repetition.
I get up each morning and dust off my wits,
Pick up the paper and read the 'obits',
If my name is missing I know I'm not dead
So I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed.
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-get-up-and-go-just-got-up-and-went/
[FSUSN: QJ6419370] [Aging] Dementia
By: Michael Tusa
It’s a crime.
They should have shot me when I turned 80, a bullet right between my sunken eyes.
I don’t know much, but I know what I am.
They tell me I’m not a fit to live alone, so they put me here, a criminal, in a criminal’s
home. My windows barred, my room dimly lit. A man in white watches me and spits,
“Don’t you move them sweet ole bones, you're old Mrs. Mary, very old.”
I wasn’t stupid. I knew what old age was, I knew how I got here. I knew who the real
criminal was. They think I don’t know what that pill does. They think I don’t know
what it means to open my lips, to swallow their pill, they say “Don’t throw a fit. Its
medicine, you’ll feel better in a little bit.”
Oh I’ve, swallowed before, the chills that fill my aching bones. I would never wish
death upon a soul. But here, you wish to be still, you wish to stay cold. Every night I
fantasize of a coma. Every night I hope to dance with death. I wish every waking
moment, after every swallow of the pill, I’d take my last dying breath.
But they want me in pain. They love to watch me writhe at night. Frozen in gray time,
a wasp dying on a dusty windowsill, able to see the air outside, but never breathe it.
I must have committed some crime. To be here locked up like this. I’ve begun to
plot, I’ve got it all mapped out in my head, but every day after I swallow the pill, after I
go to bed, I forget it all, I wake up dead.
Like an “Etch a Sketch” shaken over night,
I have to start
again.
It’s a crime.
http://www.blackcatpoems.com/t/dementia.html
[FSUSN: QJ6419370] [Aging] By: David Herbert Lawrence
It ought to be lovely to be old
to be full of the peace that comes of experience
and wrinkled ripe fulfilment.
The wrinkled smile of completeness that follows a life
lived undaunted and unsoured with accepted lies
they would ripen like apples, and be scented like
pippins
in their old age.
Soothing, old people should be, like apples
when one is tired of love.
Fragrant like yellowing leaves, and dim with the soft
stillness and satisfaction of autumn.
And a girl should say:
It must be wonderful to live and grow old.
Look at my mother, how rich and still she is! And a young man should think: By Jove
my father has faced all weathers, but it's been a life!
http://allpoetry.com/poem/8510521-Beautiful_Old_Age-by-D_H_Lawrence
[FSUSN: QJ6419370] [Aging] THE OLD
PEOPLE POEM
By: Dan Adams
I've truly gotten older; It's really plain to see. For sitting on the table; My teeth smile back at me. My feet no longer work so well; Upon the level ground. I tend to sway from side to side; To keep from falling down. There's thin white hair upon my head; White curlies on my chest. And sleeping is the only thing; That I can still do best. I love to ramble on and on; About the things of past. While folks around, sigh with relief; When my story ends, at last. It takes me longer to wake up; As I stumble into walls. A few steps tend to tire me out; And often I must pause. But the surest way to know your old; Is when you try to think. Instead of having brilliant thoughts; You tend to strain and stink. But don't believe that olds all bad; There's good things you will find. When troubles tend to come your way; you simply lose your mind. http://www.scribd.com/doc/14575827/The-­‐Old-­‐People-­‐Poem [FSUSN: QJ6419370] [Aging] Phenomenal
Woman
By: Maya Angelou Pretty women wonder where my secret lies. I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size But when I start to tell them, They think I'm telling lies. I say, It's in the reach of my arms The span of my hips, The stride of my step, The curl of my lips. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. I walk into a room Just as cool as you please, And to a man, The fellows stand or Fall down on their knees. Then they swarm around me, A hive of honey bees. I say, It's the fire in my eyes, And the flash of my teeth, The swing in my waist, And the joy in my feet. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. Men themselves have wondered What they see in me. They try so much But they can't touch My inner mystery. When I try to show them They say they still can't see. I say, It's in the arch of my back, The sun of my smile, The ride of my breasts, The grace of my style. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. Now you understand Just why my head's not bowed. I don't shout or jump about Or have to talk real loud. When you see me passing It ought to make you proud. I say, It's in the click of my heels, The bend of my hair, the palm of my hand, The need of my care, 'Cause I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/178942 [FSUSN: QJ6419370] [Aging] Nature
By: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
As a fond mother, when the day is o'er,
Leads by the hand her little child to bed,
Half willing, half reluctant to be led,
And leave his broken playthings on the floor,
Still gazing at them through the open door,
Nor wholly reassured and comforted
By promises of others in their stead,
Which, though more splendid, may not please him more;
So Nature deals with us, and takes away
Our playthings one by one, and by the hand
Leads us to rest so gently, that we go
Scarce knowing if we wish to go or stay,
Being too full of sleep to understand
How far the unknown transcends the what we know.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173907
[FSUSN: QJ6419370] [Aging] s onnet
#60
By: William Shakespeare
Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end;
Each changing place with that which goes before,
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown'd,
Crooked elipses 'gainst his glory fight,
And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth
And delves the parallels in beauty's brow,
Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow:
And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand,
Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.
http://www.shakespeare-online.com/sonnets/60.html
[FSUSN: QJ6419370] [Aging] TERMINUS
By: Ralph Waldo Emerson
It is time to be old,
To take in sail:-The gods of bounds,
Who sets to seas a shore,
Came to me in his fatal rounds,
And said: 'No more!
No farther shoot
Thy broad ambitious branches, and thy root.
Fancy departs: no more invent;
Contract thy firmament
To compass of a tent.
There's not enough for this and that,
Make thy option which of two;
Economize the failing river,
Not the less revere the Giver,
Leave the many and hold the few.
Timely wise accept the terms,
Soften the fall with wary foot;
A little while
Still plan and smile,
And,--fault of novel germs,-Mature the unfallen fruit.
Curse, if thou wilt, thy sires,
Bad husbands of their fires,
Who, when they gave thee breath,
Failed to bequeath
The needful sinew stark as once,
The Baresark marrow to thy bones,
But left a legacy of ebbing veins,
Inconstant heat and nerveless reins,-Amid the Muses, left thee deaf and
dumb,
Amid the gladiators, halt and numb.'
As the bird trims her to the gale,
I trim myself to the storm of time,
I man the rudder, reef the sail,
Obey the voice at eve obeyed at
prime:
'Lowly faithful, banish fear,
Right onward drive unharmed;
The port, well worth the cruise, is
near,
And every wave is charmed.'
http://www.poetry-archive.com/e/terminus.html
[FSUSN: QJ6419370] [Aging] I Look into My Glass By: Thomas Hardy I LOOK into my glass, And view my wasting skin, And say, "Would God it came to pass My heart had shrunk as thin!" For then, I, undistrest By hearts grown cold to me, Could lonely wait my endless rest With equanimity. But Time, to make me grieve, Part steals, lets part abide; And shakes this fragile frame at eve With throbbings of noontide. http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-­‐look-­‐into-­‐my-­‐glass/ [FSUSN: QJ6419370] [Aging] Late Ripeness By: Czeslaw Milosz Not soon, as late as the approach of my ninetieth year, I felt a door opening in me and I entered the clarity of early morning. One after another my former lives were departing, like ships, together with their sorrow. And the countries, cities, gardens, the bays of seas assigned to my brush came closer, ready now to be described better than they were before. I was not separated from people, grief and pity joined us. We forget -­‐ I kept saying -­‐ that we are all children of the King. For where we come from there is no division into Yes and No, into is, was, and will be. We were miserable, we used no more than a hundredth part of the gift we received for our long journey. Moments from yesterday and from centuries ago -­‐ a sword blow, the painting of eyelashes before a mirror of polished metal, a lethal musket shot, a caravel staving its hull against a reef -­‐ they dwell in us, waiting for a fulfillment. I knew, always, that I would be a worker in the vineyard, as are all men and women living at the same time, whether they are aware of it or not. http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/late-­‐ripeness/ [FSUSN: QJ6419370] [Aging] By: Bonnie Ruth Shaulis
Growing old is but a state of mind
You can enjoy your age or feel sorry
For yourself and sit around and pine
You can make your self feel happy or
Blue whichever you choose is up to you
Remember you can be old in age but
Young at heart you've gained wisdom
Which can play a big part in whatever
New adventure you may want to start
So quit trying to elude the age you are
Accept it and reach for the stars
Follow your dreams although they may
Seem afar you've traveled life's road
Long enough to know the score and you
Can handle anything life could have in store
Keep up the faith it will open many doors
Believe in yourself and don't worry about
Your age for growing older is just another
phase.
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/aging-3/
[FSUSN: QJ6419370] [Aging] Courage
By: Anne Sexton
It is in the small things we see it.
The child's first step,
as awesome as an earthquake.
The first time you rode a bike,
wallowing up the sidewalk.
The first spanking when your heart
went on a journey all alone.
When they called you crybaby
or poor or fatty or crazy
and made you into an alien,
you drank their acid
and concealed it.
it was love; love as simple as shaving soap.
Later,
if you have endured a great despair,
then you did it alone,
getting a transfusion from the fire,
picking the scabs off your heart,
then wringing it out like a sock.
Next, my kinsman, you powdered your sorrow,
you gave it a back rub
and then you covered it with a blanket
and after it had slept a while
it woke to the wings of the roses
and was transformed.
Later,
if you faced the death of bombs and bullets
you did not do it with a banner,
you did it with only a hat to
comver your heart.
You did not fondle the weakness inside you
though it was there.
Your courage was a small coal
that you kept swallowing.
If your buddy saved you
and died himself in so doing,
then his courage was not courage,
Later,
when you face old age and its natural conclusion
your courage will still be shown in the little ways,
each spring will be a sword you'll sharpen,
those you love will live in a fever of love,
and you'll bargain with the calendar
and at the last moment
when death opens the back door
you'll put on your carpet slippers
and stride out.
http://www.panhala.net/Archive/Courage.html
[FSUSN: QJ6419370] [Aging] The September Of My Years By: Frank Sinatra
One day you turn around and it's summer
Next day you turn around and it's fall
And the springs and the winters of a lifetime
Whatever happened to them all?
As a man who has always had the wand'ring ways
Now I'm reaching back for yesterdays
'Til a long-forgotten love appears
And I find that I'm sighing softly as I near
September, the warm September of my years
As I man who has never paused at wishing wells
Now I'm watching children's carousels
And their laughter's music to my ears
And I find that I'm smiling gently as I near
September, the warm September of my years
The golden warm September of my years.
http://www.lyricstime.com/frank-sinatra-the-september-of-my-years-lyrics.html
[FSUSN: QJ6419370] [Aging] Stop This Train
By: John Mayer
No I'm not color blind
I know the world is black
and white
Try to keep an open mind
but...
I just can't sleep on this
tonight
Stop this train I want to
get off and go home again
I can't take the speed it's
moving in
I know I can't
But honestly won't someone
stop this train
Don't know how else to say
it, don't want to see my
parents go
One generation's length away
From fighting life out on my
own
Stop this train
I want to get off and go
home again
I can't take the speed it's
moving in
I know I can't but honestly
won't someone stop this
train
So scared of getting older
I'm only good at being young
So I play the numbers game
to find away to say that
life has just begun
Had a talk with my old man
Said help me understand
He said turn 68, you'll
renegotiate
Don't stop this train
Don't for a minute change
the place you're in
Don't think I couldn't ever
understand
I tried my hand
John, honestly we'll never
stop this train
See once in a while when
it's good
It'll feel like it should
And they're all still around
And you're still safe and
sound
And you don't miss a thing
'til you cry when you're
driving away in the dark.
Singing stop this train I
want to get off and go home
again
I can't take this speed it's
moving in
I know I can't
Cause now I see I'll never
stop this train
(think I got 'em now)
http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/johnmayer/stopthistrain.html
[FSUSN: QJ6419370] [Aging] Help The Aged
By: Pulp
Help the aged,
one time they were just like you,
drinking, smoking cigs and sniffing glue. Help the aged,
don't just put them in a home,
can't have much fun in there all on their own.
Give a hand, if you can,
try and help them to unwind.
Give them hope & give them comfort 'cos they're running out of time.
*In the meantime we try.
Try to forget that nothing lasts forever. No big deal so give us all a feel.
Funny how it all falls away.
When did you first realise?
It's time you took an older lover baby. Teach you stuff
although he's looking rough.
Funny how it all falls away.
Help the aged
'cos one day you'll be older too
- you might need someone who can
pull you through
& if you look very hard
behind the lines upon their face you may see where you are headed
and it's such a lonely place.
[*Repeat]
You can dye your hair
but it's the one thing you can't change.
Can't run away from yourself, yourself...
[*Repeat]
Funny how it all falls away. [x3]
So help the aged.
http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/pulp/helptheaged.html
[FSUSN: QJ6419370] [Aging] By: Frank Sinatra
I've seen that face before, that face that I see in the mirror
I know that face, I've seen that face before
I knew that dopey guy when he didn't know how to tie his tie
He stood right there and he had hair galore
The man in the looking glass, who can he be?
The man in the looking glass, can he possibly be me?
Where's our young Romeo, the lad who used to sigh?
Who's the middle-aged lothario with a twinkle in his eye?
He seem so much wiser now, less lonely but then
Could be he's only pretending again
Man in the looking glass, smiling away, how's your sacroiliac today?
Where's your first love affair, that tragedy d'amour?
The true love you thought would be the end of you for sure
Man in the looking glass, have no regrets
The man who's wise never forgets
That life is worth living if once in a while
You can look in that looking glass and smile
http://www.elyrics.net/read/f/frank-sinatra-lyrics/the-man-in-the-looking-glass-lyrics.html