age

Not in the best of moods at the moment, which partly explains the below.


Pestle And Mortar

Pestle upon bone
pokes and grinds
like a bully’s prod.

In musical chorus
Old hinges crack
backed by moan,

a groan to usher in pain
who cannot behave
at the rear of the room

only preach and piss
old age’s impending
doom.

Its when you start to go grey when age is brought out in front of you and you can no longer causally look the other way and forget about it.

The following is a doddle on age.

My father often says, "People don't accept death today" . To accept death is to accept life

Thinking on this I have attempted to write something I have tried to do before without success.

It is a piece inspired by the quote, my father and the day yet to come.

Grandeur

No repetition raised on irritation
Nor mythering lost between the walls.

Here, photos have become Today
tomorrow, the restless butterfly in the eye

Greatness no longer has a delicate beauty
only steel on stone

Without notation.

Youth never really goes away. We never truly get old. We hit another birthday but in reality it is a number, inside we are still young.

Thinking of something to write, I remembered when I looked after my nephews. I had made them a drink and was walking through the backroom into the living room when William appeared from between the rungs of the open wooden staircase with a "BOO!".

I jumped of course at the surprise and part of the drinks I was carrying went on the floor.

We take a lot of things for granted in our day to day lives without much thought. Perhaps we are too preoccupied livng our lives or we avoid facing the fact that one day we will loose those we love.

The following poem was influenced by the day, as silly as it sounds, I realised my father was walking towards the end of his life. When a number became a count down on a clock I couldn't ignore anymore.