Long Ripe old age Poems
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The Mandrill
I feel sadness for the mandrill held captive
Behind the cage bars. His listless demeanour
Is unnatural when compared to his free aboriginal cousin
In the African jungle an ocean away.
Despite his gaiety of colour display
And distant stare through amber, hollow eyes,
With laboured mouth ajar for teeth to bare,
He expresses neither aggression nor submission
Of territory dominance or subordination.
There is no bobbing of the head or crowing,
Nor slapping of the ground or rump showing.
These primates are the world’s largest monkeys,
Safe from leopards preying and human hunting;
They, his keepers say, are lucky to be in a cage,
Enjoying life’s comforts to a ripe old age.
I dread that day the 5th of May,
my loving partner passed away,
I find it hard that she has gone,
undeserved her death was wrong,
At 42 a life cut short,
I'de double that is what I thought,
She should have reached a ripe old age,
In her book i'de miss that page,
And add it to her younger days when life was dancing on the stage,
So why did she not have a say,
On when she'd reach her final day,
What made my lovers death so sad,
Was the cervical cancer that she had,
All you ladies take your smear,
Just missing one could cost you dear,
You lose the battle,
You lose what's you,
And your dignity,
You lose that too.
You would think at this ripe old age of eighty-seven
Love and romance would no longer be foremost on my mind
Well that is so very far from the truth, it's laughable
This is what I had envisioned when I was
A much younger lad
Always thought love would be much less important to me
How wrong one could be... it is more important than ever
Love never leaves us... we can still smell the fields of flowers
Still revel in the sunshine of a warm summer day
Love is everywhere we look
It is on the faces of everyone we pass on the street
Some are harder than others to decipher but it's there
The trials of life can mask it but if you dig deep enough
Love is at the core of everything we do and say
All we need do is recognize it and it will be ours
My first love was forever
Started writing poetry then joined Poetry Soup
When submitting a poem I’m really cock a hoop
Have a cyber brother I did meet on line
Think he's quite amazing his poetry's divine
He said one day we were separated at birth
His comment amused me and filled me with mirth
Soon was confirmed we certainly were twins
Both write silly poetry and both have hairy chins
Cyber sister Jan started my big old heart a-ticking
Since entering my life it's sure been a-clicking
Wake up each morning can't wait for sister Jan
Even check my inbox before going to the can
She never disappoints though we're an ocean apart
Start's my motor racing, got a hold of my heart
Haven't figured out why I deserve such a friend
Separated at birth we'll be friends to the end
Noticed on some comments people call him ‘Kenny’
He’d love to sing with Dolly – guess he’s one of many
Jack and Dolly’s greatest hits I see it in my mind
But Cathie said no, guess she’s being real kind
From Jack’s picture, think he’s more like a Santa
We get on great as bro and sis with much silly banter
I’m so very fortunate to find my cyber brother
If I had to choose one couldn’t wish for another
It's a well known fact, Brits lack a sense of humour
Sister Jan sure puts a kibosh on that silly rumour
She makes me cackle and wet my pantaloons
Sometimes I snort like a silly old buffoon
At my ripe old age of fifty-eight plus twenty
Things don't work well, I have heartburn a plenty
But the heartburn I have is caused by my love
My dear sister Jan gives my heart a big shove
~ Collaboration Poem by J Allison & J Ellison
written for contest sponsored by Jared Pickett
Someone decided to give me some advice on the art of writing the other day. He told me that I should only write about things I know. But I’ve lived an uneventful life. I found my soul mate at the ripe old age of 15 and we’re still blissfully married. I’m a veteran, but of no war. I’ve never had to fire my M16 at anything more than a paper target. I’ve always worked in jobs that paid far above what my education should have allowed. I was never molested, abused, abandoned, tortured by terrorists, or lost in the woods to be raised by spotted owls. I come from a very large and very loving family. Sure, I’ve made a few mistakes along the way but nothing that I would look back on with regret. What would I have to write about that might have any significance to the rest of mankind? Then I remembered, Tolkien never lived in Middle earth. Bradbury had never been to Mars. Gene Roddenberry couldn’t have piloted the Enterprise. JK Rowling never attended Hogwarts and Stephanie Meyer didn’t hobnob around with vampires or werewolves.
They say they know best
If they did, wouldn’t they do it
There’s no secret way
You would think at this ripe old age of eighty-eight
Love and romance would no longer be foremost in my thoughts
Well that is so very far from the truth, it's laughable
This is what I had envisioned when I was a much younger lad
Always thought love would be much less important to me
How wrong could one be... it is more important than ever
Love never leaves us... we can still smell the fields of flowers
Still revel in the sunshine of a warm summer day
Love is everywhere we look
It is on the faces of everyone we pass on the street
Some are harder than others to decipher but it's there
The trials of life can mask it but if you dig deep enough
Love is at the core of everything we do and say
All we need do is recognize it and it will be ours
Love is life itself
Another winding road, another hardship.
"Builds character," they say;
Well, I must be one helluva character by now I guess.
Still I smile and laugh at myself for the little quirks i have.
Like enjoying how a sneeze feels;
Ahh, Im still alive
Living in this hive.
Being pushed and prodded to conformity;
"Get with the program," they say.
Well I've always Kinda gone against the grain
Teeth into the wind
And a sailors spiteful Arrgh! every now and then.
I love being Alive
Born to Survive
"But your my family, my blood," they say.
Right... You' ve had me bleeding for years,
And never once provided a band-aid.
If time heals all wounds ,
I'm going to live to a ripe old age.
And the Sign-post says I'm Alive.
Alive, Alive, Alive.
He walked into my office, business in hand,
In denim baggy overalls, a plaid shirt, white painters cap,
and grandpa's old white leather orthopedic shoes.
If I ever get to the ripe old age of 88,
I want to be this lone wolf silhouette of a man.
A slow gait with frailty of movement.
Each step carefully orchestrated and contemplated.
Making one worry the next may become a fall.
But he moves on without even a stumble.
Steadfast stature and posture braced on any lowly perch.
Outer coat showing gaps of missing muscle and mass.
Paws and face forlornly exposed with past battles scorned.
All affairs in perfect order, the next move oft anticipated.
Irises glossy white shadowed with blue wisdom and mystery.
Draped with curtains and folds boldly saying "I am."
Negotiations begin with silence in wait of movement.
Tail wagging intently, teeth exposed only when he smiles.
No bite to his bark, he needn't growl nor gnarl.
Few words, saying only what needs to be heard.
Walking away after a handshake, flash of teeth, and a wink.
09/12/17
How could Mom know what it was like to grow up in a family of six kids
She was an only child until she got her much awaited baby brother
Then her maternal instincts kicked in at the ripe old age of four
She was ecstatic at becoming a big sister and little mother
She naturally believed that intense loving bond
Simply appears out of nowhere without intervention
How could she know what it was like to grow up in a family of six kids
That maternal instinct among siblings sure would have been awesome
Alas I was the eldest and my maternal instinct never kicked in
I think all I would have needed was a little nudging
I never realized how precious my support would have been
I remember feeling I needed to get out of the way so I did
There was a subtle underlying stress hovering quietly throughout
Really it was everyone for themselves
We all went our separate ways
Well, the eldest anyway
Leaving the younger three to fend for themselves
Don’t get me wrong nobody was ever mistreated
It’s just that there could have been so much more
More caring more encouraging more loving
Not once do I remember
Reading a bedtime story to my young siblings
Not once do I remember
Playing with them or making the least effort to entertain them
A birthday was nothing more than a chance to eat cake
Unless it was our turn, it just didn’t concern us
I do remember vaguely more interaction and chatter
The month that led to Christmas and that sort of brought us closer
Not once do I remember
Making any special effort
To show them they were special and loved
How could that be?
I truly hope the problem is with my memory
It’s a little late to ask for a second chance
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Are you ready for a brand new year
The spring festival coming
So let’s all cheer
The lunar calendar starts again
It’s time to clean the cobwebs my friend
Gifts of red envelope’s everywhere
This is the Chinese New Year
The year of the sheep
The ram, the goat
Bring your fire crackers to make the most
Don’t forget those tangerines
They symbolize good luck and prosperity
You could bring some lovely oranges too
For friends and relations
Waiting for you
Now the fruit is their beloved gift
But wearing red, is that just a myth
Whatever you do
Do not wear black
It resembles death and we don’t like that
Pineapple lanterns in every colour
They look so sweet
Hanging in the summer
This also stands for prosperity
The mandarins are so very keen
The mother of pearl
Will bring you good fortune
You’re live in abundance
With the well of the fish
And eat every good portion with that dish
Now don’t forget your spring cleaning
But beware of that broom
After all it’s cheating
Bring in the new and out with the old
So this New Year could bring you gold
Last but not least, let your child lay
So you can fulfil your ripe old age
The longer they sleep
The more time for you
Add on the years restoring your youth
Gong Hei Fard Choy everybody
© Copyright KC. Leake
9th January 2015
All Rights Reserved