An oldish codger from Newfoundland
thought to pleasure himself with his hand;
but though he was bent on
achieving a hard-on,
things simply didn't go as he planned!
The old codger, upon circumspection,
knew t'was futile to get an e***tion.
With a dong so flaccid,
limp, flabby and vapid,
he knew he'd need a doctor's inspection.
there is an old codger named Grimes
goes to the beach at summer time
he sits in his chair
and can’t help but stare
at all the young women’s tan lines
Improving our status requires hard work.
An abundance of years has made us old.
Majority of school mates have gone on.
And accelerating days increase our speed
Newly reborn by accepting Jesus as my personal savior.
Only as old as we feel.
Liar, liar, pants are on fire
Death has it’s eye on us.
Cozy was not synonymous with old.
Objective in life, is outperforming our expectations.
Death is the payment for our use of space.
Golden years is a misnomer, some are more like rust.
Edifying God always makes our life easier.
Recommend making your peace with God before it’s late.
RoBo Calls
Miracle Man
4/25/2025
I’ve a strong dislike that now borders on hate,
toward those unwanted calls that won’t abate.
I get perhaps ten or so of these calls every day,
thinking I’m an “Old Codger” they can sway.
Its often about Medicare and always a scam,
her sweet voice has for me some new program.
I appreciate her having my interest at heart,
but I’m not a sucker that she can outsmart.
Calls interrupt my meals and also slumber,
once or twice they’ve came from my number.
These I always answer without undue delay,
for I’m always curious as to what I might say.
“There’s a sucker born every minute” Barnum said,
and many minds have chosen his quote to embed.
Get thee hence! Get thee hence!
Away the riffraff from my fence
Ye've rattled window and rattled doors
Till there's no peace upon the moors
The hallowed folk have left their graves
To rid themselves these noisome knaves
The tyrants peal rings through my head
Till any room for thought is dead
I'd rid myself this fearsome bane
If I had not a limp and cane
Yet wield do I that wood in vain
For the blighters to abstain
Their laughter loud begins to boil
Not troubled they at all my toil
Surrender I with naught a choice
For it seems I've lost my voice
I must placate them one and all
Returning to them their playball
Have a Guiness and let’s toast St. Patrick
Whether laddie, lass or old codger geriatric
A bold gent with such clout
All Eire’s snakes he shooed out
Never has there been a saint so theatric!
Robert
I am an old codger geriatric
But I will raise a toast to ST. Patrick
For shooing those snakes
Away for our sakes
He definitely was Saint Fantastic
Beryl
I wonder why everybody felt the need,
to express their opinions so openly,
about this man who had the misfortune to die.
I watched them slowly strolling past the casket,
like they were shopping for fruit at the market,
I wondered why some of them felt the need to cry..
There were a few folks braver than the rest,
who touched his hand or patted him on the chest,
whispering that now he is in a better place.
Doesn’t he look nice and so peaceful.” they all said,
one lady even kissed him on his forehead,
he looks so natural with that smile on his face.
When it came my turn to look over the side,
my excitement faded and to my surprise,
because to me the old codger just looked dead.
When your stretched out in your casket I suppose.
that’s probably the way that it always goes,
too look like you’re sound asleep at home in your bed.
The gals are besotted with Roger,
he's famed for the size of his todger,
they pay for his time
(he charges a dime) -
he's ninety but not an old codger.
No need of Viagra in force
as Roger's ancestors were Norse
(and vikings were known
for getting a bone) -
his resume says, 'Intercourse.'
For a man of my age, I should no longer dream
Of pretty young fillies, quite naughty it seems
But we don't lose the joy to gawk and to stare
When the sweet scent of female fills up the air
Sure hope I don't lose it, this wonderful feeling
While sneakily snatching looks that I am stealing
Girls are aware of the scene they're creating
Of many great memories this sight is relating
The happiest times when we all were much younger
These precious memories haven't lost their thunder
When seeing an old codger hardly able to walk
Still straining his eyes, to stare and to gawk
That primordial instinct is never far away
It still hangs around till our very last day
So all my buckaroonies please do take heart
At one hundred years old it can still joy impart
Trust me I'm honest as the day is long
Life still keeps singing its same old sweet song
Obsessed... I guess you could say that I am
Gonna keep on a-gawking for as long as I can
Just received a message of love
From a dear sweet soul on the Soup
It blew me away brought a tear to my eye
To feel such love whatta a hoot
These friendships here are quite common
The Soup is a place of goodwill
Where all can express our deepest feelings
Where our dreams are all fulfilled
The day I joined, I had no idea
What was in store for this old codger
What a super delight it's turned out to be
Each day it's a real heart stopper
In my retirement years it's a real blessing
To have such a great group of friends
To connect and know that love is waiting
What a great way my hours to spend
All I can say is “long live the Soup!”
May it flourish for many years to come
To know there are so many adorable people
It's the greatest feeling bar none
When traveling a stretch of life's highway
Does it feel like it's uphill both ways?
Does it feel like winter's twelve months long?
Do you work like a dog for small pay?
Well welcome to a newly formed club
The Association of Chronic Bellyachers
We meet every Thursday at the crack of dawn
We're a bunch of cranky “whine” makers
No grins, guffaws, or laughter allowed
Could be thrown out on your rear
We've a couple of burly guards at the door
Wearing scowls from ear to ear
So if there's really nothing that bugs you
You ain't welcome at one of our meetings
Especially if you're really content with your life
You could even end up with a beating
We take this bellyaching seriously you know
It's developed into a new kind of art
The technique we've developed is really simple
Happiness never invades our heart
Now, if the real truth of the matter be known
With tongue planted firmly in my cheek
I'm really this sweet, kind hearted old codger
Never gripes, never lets out a peep!
I Stare in the Mirror
I stare in the mirror and what do I see?
An old man with rheumy eyes looking at me.
Who is this old codger, this balding old shell,
Who cannot remember what it’s like to feel well?
Where is the vibrance, the get up and go?
Why are his movements so painful and slow?
Who stole his glowing skin, his dark flashing eyes,
His derring-do, courage, his sense of emprise?
What happened to big ideas? Future? Ambition?
Why do his joints fight a war of attrition?
Why can he see clearly adolescence long past,
When he cannot remember the thing he ate last?
It doesn’t make sense, I don’t recognise him,
With his belly and baldness and weakness of limb.
No! That mirror’s a liar, whatever I see.
Whoever that old man is, he can’t be me!
Some people call me Kenny
Because of my resemblance to Mr. Rogers
Wish I had his enormous piles of dough
I'd sure be a happy old codger
Methinks they mean before his facelift
At least that's what I hope they meant
It made him look like a real different person
Not as charming in any event
So I'll take it that's what they really meant
When Kenny was young and virile
Instead of this ageing singer of love songs
Fame can be fleeting and so fragile
Mr. Rogers can still belt out a love song
With his familiar raspy voice
For over four decades he been charming us
Was everyone's favourite choice
So I really don't mind the nickname Kenny
A compliment is how I take it
People could have nicknamed me Bela
But as Lugosi I never would have made it
Old Codger Crotchfield of Livermore
Knows of no child he does not deplore
When kids trick or treat
He throws them pig's feet
The next day raw eggs cling to his door
Written 10/17/22
I am bringing my puppy, the old codger said.
The rest of the foursome were less than pleased with young Lucky.
But the puppy was no trouble, and helped their team get ahead.
Many others let them play through, to get to pet the sweet puppy.
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