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This is an attempt at humor, not a reminder of impending doom.
I'm more of a stoic pain than a stand-up comic, so do not be alarmed.
I mean well. Above all, don't feel sorry for me.
I'm chilling out with a nice glass of imported wine while writing this.
Growing Old is Not for Sissies
Is there a difference between insanity and an inability to retrieve words
that have laid unadorned for so many years?
What happened to the nuances that distinguished us from monkeys and
simpletons?
Were we ever that far apart?
Where is the love that once consumed our souls but now there is
no trace of it to be found?
I ask.
Life plays tricks on our minds and we succumb to them.
I thought I could sprint but the sidewalk disagreed
And so I spent an evening in the Urgent Care facility
wondering how in the hell did I get here?
How do you fill each minute with 60 seconds worth of living
when your watch stopped 3 years ago?
Who do you call to help you recall what you cannot?
When do you retire to sleep when you can’t tell the difference
between the rising and the setting sun?
And who wants to sleep only to discover the accompanying
state of mind gives you no respite?
I ask.
Old Man river
he must know sumpin’
but he don’t say nuthin.’
Wisdom used to jump up with flair and agility but now
I no longer hear babies cry
nor can I watch them grow up
How could I when I am already four years past
my alloted time?
I ask.
Your honor, I am probably guilty of the charge
but in my own defense I ask only that
you reduce my time for the good behavior I must
have accrued
back when I knew what good behavior amounted to.
I ask.
As someone who had to have Life Alert call for help to get herself off the floor last weekend, I can heartily identify with this poem! Glad I'm not a sissy.
Your title is an oft repeated refrain these days. There is something to be said for living fast, loose and hard, dying early, and leaving a good-looking corpse. There certainly is plenty of wry humor in growing old, but a little rye helps a lot. ;-)
You still are turning out amazing articles for third grade minds of the minions that have lost their marbles when it comes to reasonable thinking for the 21st century.
Lately, I've been singing, "Dat ol' man river, he just keeps rollin…alonnnggg." Almost every night before I go to sleep hopefully with a strong, resonant baritone that I heard my uncle sing it in high school recital 73 years ago. Keep rollin' along and producing good stuff like this.
some people don t grow at all, some don't grow old
just today I was thinking i don't feel a wee bit older past amany many years whatever my body shape may be.
but yes dear Ed, i confuse my ies and eis
but does it make a difference to the word!!
lets enjoy each day!!!
have fun
roseline
Reviewed by Sandie May Angel a.k.a. Sandie Angel
Reviewed on January 21, 2022
Now, growing old is a privilege. Not too many people can get there during such pandemic time. I'm seeing too many young people die recently. They all say die of unknown causes, but I know they died of COVID or vaccine-related.
Stark, harsh, but very real and sobering in thoughts awakened. This "hits home" to me as one of my siblings passed away on Christmas Day, and he was in very good shape, at least it sure seemed that way. A very engaging and meaningful literary offering, Edward. Love, peace, and best wishes to you,
Deputy Dave Jenkins investigates the murder of local high school principal, Jerry Egge, but this is a multi-faceted novel that deals with spiritualism, romance, friendship, and children who fall through the cracks.
"Murder isn't usually this
The deep-dive literary meditations presented as stories, poems, and essays in The American Poet Who Went Home Again, A Mosaic of My Soul at Work, have captivated and inspired readers ever since its first paperback publication in 2008.
Deputy Dave Jenkins investigates the murder of local high school principal, Jerry Egge, but this is a multi-faceted novel that deals with spiritualism, romance, friendship, and children who fall through the cracks.
"Murder isn't usually this
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Diana🍃
You still are turning out amazing articles for third grade minds of the minions that have lost their marbles when it comes to reasonable thinking for the 21st century.
Lately, I've been singing, "Dat ol' man river, he just keeps rollin…alonnnggg." Almost every night before I go to sleep hopefully with a strong, resonant baritone that I heard my uncle sing it in high school recital 73 years ago. Keep rollin' along and producing good stuff like this.
Ron
just today I was thinking i don't feel a wee bit older past amany many years whatever my body shape may be.
but yes dear Ed, i confuse my ies and eis
but does it make a difference to the word!!
lets enjoy each day!!!
have fun
roseline
Sandie
Regis. 🙏🍁