When lifting my foot was a pain
the coach said soak it up,
put weight on your other foot
fight through the soreness
Now lifting my foot is a daily torment
to bear among
a multitude of indignities
as ache becomes a companion
not to fight or soak
But a daily reminder
I’m still alive,
a welcome partner
in a daily struggle
The pace of age can’t be gauged,
except in hairlines, waistlines,
sagging pants
and gasps for a share of air to breathe
Getting old is a conversation piece
a ploy to compare the wounds
of war and life, the daily struggle
how the young ignore and never learn
The lessons we should’ve taught them
but forgot, while we were burning bright
like them. The only school we know is life
and experience is a tough reminder.
Ruthless disregard, disrespect
and competitive drive,
the angry truths revealed in senescence
time to value, too old to use.
Poetry very much suits you, my dear chap. A man of many talents.
Thank you, Lucy. I wonder though what this poem means to you, youthful and vigorous as you are. Poems occur to me – on a bus, in a waiting room, sitting in a bar, while I’m peeling potatoes (as I was this morning) – and I’m compelled to write them or they’ll spoil my day. Does this come across as the curmudgeonly gibberish of a cranky old git or does it say something to you? Language is very important. I like to keep mine simple, even when laden with meaning. Indeed, the more meaning in the meanness or sparsity of words, the better. Moving on, thanks for your kind words. The sun is out, I’m preparing a Moroccan meal, people are coming.
I have just had a birthday so the subject of aging is fresh in my mind. This made me stop fretting about the years that have passed, but rather look forward to and appreciate those yet to come. I am sad that your foot is giving you problems, I hate to think of you in pain. The words are so clear and the rhythm perfect. Do enjoy your meal and company, I raise a glass to you and yours!
I’m not as decrepit as I might sound but certainly, years of hard sports and partying have taken their toll. With age, you put them away and wait for the next one saying, throw your worst, you won’t get me. Not that easily, anyway.
All good reasons for feeling a little creaky every now and then! I think that sometimes we all feel a little older than we should.
I’m with Dylan Thomas on this and I will rage against the dying of the light. Remember, you’re only as old as the person you’re feeling.
Hmm – my other half is 23 years older than me. so perhaps he gets the better end of the deal!
You’ll have longer to remember
Good point beautifully made.
I hope you had a very happy birthday.
Yes, super, thank you. Spent some time with my mother and grandparents and it was just perfect. I felt like a child again.
Pampered. It’s like a warm bath with soft, fragrant bubbles
My brain says I’m 25 but my body says HaHaHaHaHa. You’ve expressed it perfectly. Art Linkletter also expressed it well: “Old age is not for sissies.” No kidding.
Thanks!!