Slow to warm up, old geezer
cozy home feels like freezer
Although the thermostat
that trusty technocrat
set on ‘high’ – no appeaser!
Putting things right, or just his obit to bedight?
The bewildered geezer
slowing on uptake
finds much a brain-teaser
in outlook opaque
Now bumbling, befuddled
way less done than watched
by no smartphone cuddled
His past badly botched:
Got to live long to gain insight
given chance to make things right?
Or just fake alibis airtight
his slim obit to bedight?
Gets close now to Eternity’s Trip
so little time left to get a grip!
Smooth sailing as we’re throwing up over the railing?
“Just ride it out”, says my cheery wife,
“watch a video, write a verse
enjoy your late life without the strife!”
Until carted off in the hearse
But spared suffering, struggle & strife
how can humans live well in life?
If trivial coasting til last breath
we’re not alive before our death?
And how to pretend Life is smooth sailing
while throwing up bent over the railing?
+)
railing = here: a ship’s (hand) rail
From first until last glance
You’re loving effulgence
in Life’s wondrous dance
abounding indulgence
of sweet happenstance
You’re my life’s five star menu
served up in senescence
For me wobbly the venue
outside your dear presence
From our youthful romance
until, soon, our last glance
Watch me, Mom!
Baby Anton Oct 2013 in his stroller with Eric leaning over
Anton, aged one, seated in his elaborate stroller and Eric, his old neighbor & ground crew, meet for a morning chat, while Anton reflects:
Mom, Mom watch, watch me, Mom
handsome, unruffled.
Staying serenely calm
by binky muffled.
Mom, Mom watch, watch me, Mom
in my spacecraft seat.
With greatest of aplomb
hovering off street.
So cool by console, at controls
by all adult doubt unfazed.
Topping the baby pilot polls
my many enemies dazed.
But it can’t be a breeze
for my poor ground crew.
Eric leaning in askew
on his aging knees?
We’re two gregarious chaps
who banter when we meet
sporting similar slick caps:
The neighborhood elite.
(p.s. Mom:)
Admirers all keep rushing
squeaky voices gushing.
How do I avoid blushing?
Celeb’s role bit crushing.
… might just have lived deeper in the daily mystery?
The frazzled frayed old man
in light breeze shivers and creaks
Sensing end of lifespan
fuzzy his thoughts, paled his cheeks
Did he ponder too much about human history
rather than enjoying his life’s daily mystery?
Pedaling may know no bounds on cyclists’ chosen rounds
Faces may look ashen
of cyclists vintage
look as out of fashion
as penny mintage
But on self-selected rounds
cyclists rarely feel repletion
as riding the ups & downs
rarely results in depletion
But they find life off the bike middling
movement without pedaling: piddling
Did not take in stride that I lost my stride
Only found out yesteryear
when soaked by waves of fears
when it became crystal clear
that I’ve been old for years
Had already lost my stride
long before realized
had turned oversized my pride
which by then ossified
Been trying hard to hide
that I then replied
with “I take it in stride!”
Well, back then I lied
Slammed, at last, the door on my Past!
My worn mind kept on churning
jaws clenched in face paling
ears & cheeks hotly burning
relived every failing
Aged humiliations amassed
kept The Now cruelly harassed
I could not bear in time left
to be held captive by The Past
Then, at last, found strength to heft
rebelled in too long suppressed blast!
Since having tamed The Past iniquitous
The Now been blossoming ubiquitous
Wretched kvetch
Jaw jutting
grin fixated
Walk strutting
hope inflated
In Life had hoped to win
but took it on the chin
Outlook bearish
nightmarish
Culture garish
prez czarish
So what to cherish on the homestretch
beyond straggling frail in wretched kvetch?