Thinking back, so long ago
Remembering things, I've done
Always had a place to go
I would walk a country mile
When I was young, it was fun
Now, it would take me awhile
These old legs can't walk no more
I used to walk with my son
In the park or to the store
That was when he lived with me
He moved- that son-of-a-gun
Alone, I feel so lonely
Yet, I'm old, and still alive
I made it to ninety-one
Hmm... how long will I survive
Will I live another day?
No regrets the life I've spun
Only time will tell, they say
Hannah Hippo refused to dress
I worked much longer than the rest
Finally retired at ninety-one
I wear my jammies, and have such fun
I drink my coffee in the night
stay up and play the slots so bright
do it on zoom, a gambler I am now
I do not have to look pretty, no one to wow
The life of my father,
The life he created,
The life he has lived,
The kindness he gave us.
It is an extraordinary life.
At the age of ninety-one,
He can say he went to Siberia
And swam in the Atlantic.
He lived through wars.
He was not called a hero,
But he was a hero to us,
Always with a kind heart.
His smile, his love,
His generous heart,
He led a company
And gave it his all.
He had no shoes at the age of five.
He knew hunger at the age of ten.
He was a scholar by eighteen,
A father,
A leader.
Now he does not remember much,
But he remembers how to love.
He reminds us to be kind.
He remembers to care.
Grandma could not wait to get her mitts
on her new grandson named Karmen Kay Kits
a first-time grandma at ninety-one
she thought this might be gobs of fun
Her son, Karmen’s first-time father was seventy-two
He hovered over her and the baby, making her feel blue
Suggesting how she should hold the baby’s neck and head
She told him and his wife to go on to bed
They were grumpy and mean, never having put the baby down
She figured they were the most sleep deprived two in town
Suggesting the baby could cry in his own bed did no good
They thought they knew everything, as only new parents could
Grandma could not wait to go home on the plane
Doubt she’ll be eager to get back there again
Yes, Jesus went and prepared a place just like He said He'd do, He built for me a mansion, and one for [mother] too, and if her home was measured by her precious love divine, I know my mother's mansion is higher than mine.
~ Albert E. Brumley Sr.
Now at ninety one she has aged beautiful,
her smile is delight as she greets the newest baby,
the new puppies, the winter hummingbird in the cold dawn
of morning breaking the blue mountain sky~
she hears the call of eternity echoing
from the halls of heaven where angels wait
to welcome her home after a life lived well,
she wants to answer that call, to go home and be with God,
but she hesitates to leave her children,
for they have always been her bonny babies,
how can she leave the ones she watched over all the long years?
Go, Mother, we will come to you by and by.
It’s ninety one but feels like more,
Like I opened up the Devil’s front door.
He said “Come on in!” with a fire breath grin
Now I’m sweatin' places I ain’t ever been.
The sidewalk’s cookin’ eggs on the sly,
Birds stopped chirpin', too hot to fly.
Even my dog gave me that judgmental look,
Like, “Take me out again and you’re getting cooked.”
Humidity’s clingy like a bad first date,
Stickin’ to me like it’s true soulmate.
My shirt’s now soup, my socks are stew,
And I swear my flip flops just melted through.
AC’s gaspin’, fan’s wheezin’ low
I bribed ‘em both just to halfway blow.
My iced tea’s warm, my will is weak,
I’ve been napping in the fridge since Tuesday this week.
So if you see me walking slow and fried,
Just know it’s the heat I ain’t yet died.
But tell my kin if I do collapse:
Bury me somewhere with cold sweet snacks.
I had a feeling this was an unusually hot September.
I said this to a few people.
They pooh-poohed my idea.
Most said they could remember lots of warm Septembers.
But this warm? I asked them.
ninety-one degrees on September 17th in Kansas?
Most of them do not live in Kansas,
but they live in the Midwest.
They insisted I was exaggerating the hotness of 2024.
I finally consulted a weather tracking system.
This system stated that this is the hottest September
in one hundred and seventy-four years.
Do I feel validated?
Not really.
But I know that I am not crazy now.
Geillis play for King James VI
pluck your jewes trump harp
you dance then prance
and twist your wrist
in tune and rhythm
through the mist
of song and on till dusk
the King delights with curious
a watchful eye
a witch be though
and lo still die
come hither, done
December, fifteen ninety one
oh Geillis Duncan hung
Sophie, our black cocker spaniel can be a mean old broad.
She is thirteen, so that is ninety-one in dog years.
We were wondering how she would “do with the new puppy”.
My husband wanted to wait until she was gone to get a new baby.
Are you kidding me? That could be six or seven years, I told him.
I am not waiting six or seven years!
His parents had cockers that lived to be eighteen and nineteen.
In dog years that made their ages 126 and 133.
This new baby Beau was quiet, did not make a sound in the car.
We were on the road two hours; he did not make one single peep.
He was fine until Sophie gave him a warning snarl.
That puppy answered her with a bark that came from the bowels of hell.
Sophie turned tail and ran
We have never seen this before.
This is when I knew things were going to be okay.
What is fun at ninety-one
a window to the rising sun
The setting sun’s not bad either
though in-between I need a breather
The unsupervised stop sign travels all over town
With no one there to watch him, he made departure from the ground.
Off he went o’er yonder, and up and down the city street
He’d stop in front of speeding cars, and then rinse and repeat,
It must be such a shock to to see a sign when before was none
The action of foot slammed on break caused pile ups on ninety one.
Despite obvious danger, his game brought him so much joy,
That stop sign played with cars as if they were naught but his toys.
The police tried to stop him, fire fighters too,
But what department is prepared to stop a stop sign barreling through?
He spent the day causing chaos, and carried on all through the night
Until each and every driver was frightened for their life.
By morning he grew tired of the game he’d been engrossed,
So the unsupervised stop sign returned home to his post.
Nineteen ninety one, at the age of six saw the frenzied dance of the cyclone
In the atrocious dark of the night, we were out of sleep, fighting with wild storm
We heard the scream of people, lost our tin shed whole roof with the garret zone
On the waist of uncle I cried out for safe shelter but everyone was in unsafe mourn
In the light of next day I forgot the night and was busy to pick up fallen mangoes in lorn
©Mahtab Bangalee
Chattogram
24/10/2022
When my uncle married your daughter in 1975, you became his father-in-law.
Your daughter gave birth in 1979 and that was when you became a grandpa.
You lived long enough to see your great-great-grandchild, that's a privilege that many don't receive.
You raised a family and you were a preacher, those were great things that you were able to achieve.
It must have been nice to hold your great-great-grandson.
If you hadn't died, today you would've turned ninety-one.
Your life came to an end and you entered the Pearly Gates.
After living a long life, you died at the age of eighty-eight.
You preached the word of God when you became a Reverend.
Today would've been your birthday if your life hadn't come to an end.
[Dedicated to Eugene Williams (1931-2020) who died on October 1, 2020]
A Psalmody of Psalm Ninety One
God is our refuge, He is our shelter
Kept safe from demons are those who’re blessed
Beneath wings of the Almighty that cares
Spared from the snares of unwanted foul quests.
Fear not nightmares or terrors of darkness
Under presence of angels we’re redeemed
Freed from toxic perils that come by day
All being as seen in heavenly dreams.
Our God sees everything below the sun
The wicked face trial before one’s eyes
What goes around comes back around it’s said
Evil ways will always be recognised.
Those who love as the Lord said we all should
Will never become trampled underfoot
By any human man, woman or beast
Daredevils who tried would land up as soot.
Our dear Lord saves those seeking salvation
Call God by His name and you will be found
The shepherd will always find his lost sheep
From that day on one shall be glory bound.
26th September 2021
THE ATTRIBUTES,
OF MOTHER NATURE,
EMPHASIZE,
HER NOMENCLATURE.
ATMOSPHERIC,
ROTATING CONDITIONS,
SUPPLY ENDLESS FLURRY
OF POETIC RENDITIONS.
WINTER ,SPRING,
SUMMER AND FALL.
MOTHER NATURE
CREATED THEM ALL.
FASCINATING,
IN DISTINCTIVE WAYS .
DISPLAYING THEIR TALENTS
FOR NINETY ONE DAYS.
SNOW AND ICE,
INTO SUBLIMATION,
MATERIALIZED
HER IMAGINATION.
GRASSES AND PLANTS,
WITH MAGNIFICENT FLOWERS,
SUBCONSCIOUS FRAGRANCE
OF MYSTICAL POWERS.
ALTERATIONS,
FROM SEED TO TREE,
TRANSFORMING ICE
INTO DEEP BLUE SEAS.
DIAMONDS AND MINERALS,
JUST GOES TO SHOW,
SHE HAS A HART,
OF SILVER AND GOLD
VOLCANIC DISPLAY
OF A GOD GIVEN SOUL
BRINGS FORTH THE BEAUTY
OF MOTHER NATURES FIRST GOAL.
Michael E. Harris
08092021
Sub Categories
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