Long One foot in the grave Poems
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I awoke and wiped moon dust from my eyes.
Kissed an ancient tabby cat in the morning light.
The sun found the slats in between his lives.
Nine A.M I gathered just enough ambition.
To peel an orange and crack an egg.
Went outside to water withering pansy faces.
They whispered to me that I was very late.
It hadn't rained for 9 1/2 days.
When I was young, they spoke of another ice age.
Now they say the planets are quickly burning away.
Who are "the they" anyway?
I stared into the mailbox's mouth.
It's going to be a fine day. No bills popped out.
I waved to the gray-faced neighbor.
He arthritically waved back.
He's got one foot in the grave.
I'm amused by his smiling butt crack.
I went back inside just before I burned.
Rid the house of egg bits and cat turds.
Tabby tap-danced around my grey turkey legs.
It was about time for an old man's nap.
Dreaming of tabby cats, nuclear annihilation
and a red-haired siren that never came back.
HAZARD ON THE STREET
She really shouldn’t drive
That old person hair so white
She doesn’t know what to do
Such a sad pathetic sight!
Car horns blow behind her
She hears a man rant and rave,
“You shouldn’t be out driving,
You’ve got one foot in the grave”
I see why she’s annoying
She seemed so dangerous too.
Wonder does she live alone,
Does she have a me or you?
Perhaps doesn’t have a choice
When to Doctor she must go.
Before you condemn old soul
Think of elderly you know.
Glance her way once again
Put yourself in her sad seat.
One day we too may become
An old Hazard on the Street!
Barbara Barry-Nishanian
March 2003. copyright
You starred in "The Visitation" which was an episode of Doctor Who.
Your life ended thirty years ago today on December the 11th of 1992.
You died two weeks before Christmas Day.
You were sixty-two when you passed away.
You were a very talented British actor but your death ended your career.
Time sure does fly, it doesn't seem like you've been dead for thirty years.
You starred in every season of "On The Buses" except for the final season.
I don't know why you decided to quit but you must have had a good reason.
You guest-starred in "One Foot In The Grave" and "Turn Out The Lights".
You also guest-starred in "The Count Of Monte Cristo" and "First Night".
You chose not to be buried, you were cremated.
When you died, all of your fans were devastated.
You died thirty years ago today and your wife died on December the 7th of 2011.
You entertained people for many years and then you went to Heaven.
[Dedicated to Michael Robbins (1930-1992) who died on December 11, 1992]
Richard Wilson hates it when people tell him his catch phrase.
I told it to him and you'd better believe that I've seen better days.
His catch phrase was "I don't believe it!" from One foot in the grave.
If you plan to say it to him, you'd damn well better be brave.
After I told him his catch phrase, I was being hit.
All because I said "I don't believe it!"
He blacked my eyes and broke my nose with his elderly fist.
This was without doubt a man who was certainly pissed.
I said his catch phrase to him but I sure won't say it again.
It was embarrassing to be beaten up by a senior citizen.
(THIS IS A FICTIONAL POEM.)
Rainbow Nation
Blanca is white like beautiful snow in the Drakensberg Mountains
she snorted star powder past the perforated septum into her brain
Black as coal from the underworld mines in Mpumalanga Melanie
had her stomach pumped and purged while sleeping off darkness
Amber is coloured mixed race in the Rainbow of Nations her work
still paid in dop cheap vine that slaves her away in alcoholic trance
Arnav of Indian descent was hooked on dagga grown by the ocean
converted to heroin sold her frail body and skin for brown liquid sugar
Jacobus Bandele Lungelo and Bhavin shared needles and comfort
on the streets of Johannesburg flirted with disaster drug related crime
and their dealers cracked at the dawn longed for dust in the dusk
Drugs do not respect colour gender ability social class and religion
all druggies are equal with craving dependency not restricted to some
Now united in rehab like the state of the nation they all stood at the
table of mountains with one foot in the grave at the cliff face of habit
One day at the moment they now battle their demons resist the temptation
for only the time being from one morning away from the devious mourning
one drug line not taken one fall off the wagon shunned and avoided for now
They have all chased the dragon for far too long and imbibed with the devil
for so many wretched days and nights of delusion torment addiction and pain
Again once more each day anew their only chance to abstain one day at the time
I'm one quarter whiskey
I'm a quarter heartache
One half a man
With a splash of mistakes
My lifes on the rocks
As I drown in the rye
There's a mountain of memories
Still locked up inside
Life on the rocks
One foot in the grave
Sold my soul to the devil
And he gave me change
I've fought with my demons
But my souls been lost
That's how I'm living
Life on the rocks
My eyes are bloodshot when sober
And the yellow's set in
The names on the bottles
Are my only friends
My wife has long left me
Now I'm paying the cost
For living this life, as if it's in spite
Of my life on the rocks
Life on the rocks
One foot in the grave
Sold my soul to the devil
And he gave me change
I've fought with my demons
But my souls been lost
That's how I've been living, there is no forgiving
Living life on the rocks
This vice I ain't quittin'
Cause this life ain't worth livin'
Life on the rocks
Follow me down a hole
that I'm digging
with reckless abandon
I'm plotting & planning
on a treasure just
below the surface
of this plot
You might get a little
dirty or maybe
a lot
but don't let that
deter you
Let them tell it we've all
got one foot in the grave
the day our mothers
water popped anyway
Anyway
this rabbit hole gets deeper
faster than my bunny feet
can hop astray
I think you've had enough
time to play in the sandbox
so how about telling
this game to kick rocks
You can keep your fake songs
& tic tok
because I've had it up to here
with these hit bots
What's the world coming to
when they compute a voice
that sings & apes you?
One day these machines
will grow to hate you
& then what?
I assure you
you'll not make the cut
when it decides to
trim the fat
Face the facts
& think about it
for a minute or two
Let that take a lap or 2
around the track
in your mind if you still
have one of those at this time
This is a disgrace
to the whole of so called
mankind
Can't you see you're slowly
losing your sense of self
& being replaced?
That's blind
It's staring you
in the face everyday
yet all you wanna
do is play
You can't even speak
your mind freely these days
for fear of being
shadow banned
Trust me I know all about
that diabolical mess
& those plans
firsthand
Yet
you let them tie your hands
willingly for pennies
to pay billingsly
Are you hearing me
or were you paying attention
to the woman in the
red dress?
I'm not Morpheus
but I want more for us
when it seems they
wanna offer less
This contemptuous
attitude toward the lot
of us is more divisive
than my derisive rhyme
I'm sorry for the diatribe
BUT
how I described
this pie in the sky
is the only way I could
slice it at this time
Sizzling Surprises
I’m ruminating here on this promenade of sizzling surprises.
I’m sitting here, watching the living denizens walk on by.
None of these sentient beings ever look at me,
Never see or acknowledge me, not for one second,
Never say even one word to me, as I sit half dead here,
On this hardened beaten park bench.
Just watching and wondering why the heck they don’t look at me.
Ah, there’s a young lady, just sat down across from me,
On the bench over there, a dozen purposeful strides away.
Hey honey, look over here. I’m an old dude still walking the earth;
You know, like you and everyone else; I’m just looking at you,
I mean no harm, really. Just checking you out, as a half-dead man would,
Desperately, with no conscience or inward analysis.
Just looking at your slender svelte legs, crossed like pretzels in the sun,
And I am thinking and wondering why you don’t look at me.
Is it because I’m an old dude, with one foot in the grave?
Is it because you’re afraid to encounter another human being, face to face?
A human who has seen the fortunes and misfortunes of a long life.
A human man who can create a masterpiece of sizzling surprises,
Just for you, all in a matter of five astonishing minutes!
Oh, for God’s sake!
Stop staring at your cellphone and look over here, just for ten seconds!
I’m an old dude still walking the earth,
And I could teach you a thing or two about living,
About connecting and responding and empathizing,
About turning your mono-vision away from yourself, and your narcissism.
Just for ten seconds, try to see the loneliness of another sentient being;
You know, like me and everyone else here; I’m just looking at you,
I mean no harm, really. Just want to connect, as I once did with the young ladies,
Long ago under this same sizzling sun, up there,
Long ago when I sought those same sizzling surprises that I seek now,
And the sucking maelstrom of intense pleasures I could conjure up for you,
All in a matter of five astonishing minutes!
I was asked to write a poem
About when I’d grow old…..
But really that’s the joke,
For I already am, old and terribly cold.
And looking back I realize
How time has passed me by.
It’s like a flower really,
It forms buds, blooms, and dries,
And then eventually each dies.
I always joke to find some remedy,
I’ve just got one foot in the grave.
With apologies the famous comedy,
Which gave me so much fun.
But seriously now that I am old,
And lost most of my family too,
I can only ponder on the bloom
That will soon wither and stew.
Still, that’s not exactly true.
For I truly believe that life
Is but a passage over a bridge.
From this life to a better one we strive.
Hopefully…..
Circle in the sand could tell a story
of a lost world, where celestials and machines
were one.
A crafty place where symbiosis is tasted
on the tongue.
Chimera epoxies elysian forgeries,
ruins, blistered and urned
by the seasons and the sun.
Cogs turning in the Temple of
Desperidium.
Wraith of translucent heat layers, reeling as film,
screen of video player stealing the image
of vesselic seal.
Black wings covering the eye of the past in-echoed Artisan-
lens cap, loosed, by
gait of prose and print of boot.
But it won't, divulge its secret cache,
of high hand, poker face,
in sign language-of cornerstones plans
laid from.
Jacobs Ladder Inn-hiding,
drone wave form.
A fleeting glimpse of visage,
visitage of what will soon again re-spawn,
kit of kingdom come.
Masking, its schema in paved,
mapping in hum of ley-line amathema,
violet band in tardigrade.
Petrified rainbow relic in the strata,
its soil forgotten in mind shade.
Like black chute of night blooming mushroom,
bubbles up, defiant creation,
pharmakeia l.e.d balloon parabolic ort-asm,
phantifuge,
sailing its wave of rebellion in bloom.
Renaissance reconnaissance recognizance
frequency of insanity of fallen ones
that denies their death row doom.
Tower of Babel has one foot in the grave
and one lit up in stereo- fm,
in the netherealms of CERN/Hades
a portal seeking to pierce the veil,
as a mitochondria drill.
They seek to house themselves in your temple
and corrupt the windows to your soul.