For as long as I Iive
I will always be your son
I hope I can always count on you
My Father
I am proud of you my father
You are the one who
Gave me my life
And that life you gave me
I live every day
AIso I don't need to be reminded
To pray to you
I do it automatic
Every night before I sleep
Also you keep me alive
Every day here on earth
And I must confess to you
That I just love to live on earth
The beautiful life you gave me
After you made me
Many years ago
I know that I just can't do anything
About getting older every year
Yes father you made life that way
I need to live my life every day
To the fullest every single day
Because I only live once
Yes I know that I need to die some day
I hope not young my father
I want to live until I am 80 years old
Can you do that for me father?
I am a lot older and wiser now
I never gamble with my life father
Because I know that I have no right
To do that
Time goes by like clouds in the wind.
When young, I did not notice their haste
But as I grew older and wiser,
I found each day too precious to waste.
As I look back upon my life,
A young man comes to mind.
I often wonder if he was 'the one':
A once in a lifetime find.
How to know true love's embrace?
With youthful games, the signs erase.
Missed signals fly all over the place.
Yet, to this day, I see his face.
Fate made the introductions
But I'll never know just why.
He was everything I dreamed of
But in the by and by.
Because I wasn't ready
And a future I could not see,
I let my one love slip away.
A time for us was not to be.
I never liked tomato soup -
that thick slurry of red
in a white bowl - childhood
winters, Friday nights
with a menacing dark
pressing against the window
as if trying to get in.
Tomato soup looked too much
like blood poured out
of that suffering
pictured in the vivid imagery
hung along the stations
of a child's mind no matter
if blest by grace.
When older and wiser,
I had lamb shank soup,
clumped with celery, carrots
and loads of gelatinous meat.
Each heaped spoonful
was a precious gift,
a celebration of life.
I don’t smoke, snort, or pop any pills,
and don’t drink like a fish anymore.
I don’t go partying all night long,
girl, not like I used to do before.
I don’t need to be that ramblin’ man,
I am a lover not a fighter.
I prefer to play some safer games,
now that I am older and wiser.
But honey if that’s the kind of life,
that you think you really want to see.
Then baby you hang on to your beer,
grab hold of the rail, and just watch me.
I going to show you a few things,
that might make you shake your pretty head.
We’ll go out and paint this whole darn town,
with a double coat of neon red.
If it’s crazy chaos you prefer,
then I can be the man that you need.
Cause my name used to rhyme with trouble,
girl, that’s trouble with a great big T.
I will wine you and then I’ll dine you,
until your eyes can no longer see.
So baby you hang on to your beer,
grab hold of the rail, and just watch me.
Life grabbed me hard by the balls, not in the way that feels good and right.
The mist of darkness in wintertime, when the cold winds fully hasnt blown in the snowstorm to cover our summer sins and regret.
We tend to fail to heed the call, to enjoy our wait for this darkness, this unfathomable coldness, to savor each and all these moments of utter silence, that before led us to despair and heartfeld tears, now, with older and wiser eyes, we now can sit back.
We let the silence come without feeling muted.
We let the darkness creep in without feeling haunted.
We let the cold embrace the walls without fearing to turn to ice anymore inside.
We embrace it, we live alongside it, we own it.
Winter
It may be a truism to surmise
That as we get older
We get wiser.
It may also be equally as true
That as we get older
We simply run out of
Stupid things to do.
We were teens just outta school
Did we really know what was the plan
Some did I suppose and weren’t a fool
When we fronted with suitcase in hand
What is your first memory on the day
Standing in a group and waiting
Who to talk to and what to say
But there was always time for bonding
There’s a lot between then and now
And some of us have passed on
In what life’s lottery would allow
But memories linger and are never gone
When we gather together now
A group looking older and wiser still
We deserve to take a bow
A Course or Troop knowing the drill.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Here’s a fire engine, my husband said.
Sure, I used to want one, and in red.
But I am now older, and wiser too.
I don’t want that anymore, you foo!
But honey, you always wanted one.
Sure, when I was eight, that dream is done.
He is always trying to please, this man of mine.
In a way, that is sweet, his attitude fine.
But my wishes have changed, my toys are new.
Expensive now, dealing with arthritis too.
I am enjoying compression socks,
Not marbles, trucks or a doll that talks.
I have outgrown fancy clothes, and jewelry now.
Where is my acid reflux pill? I take a little bow.
I gave away my Christmas stuff, too much work.
I don’t want a fire engine, I say with a jerk.
I want warm food, electricity and pumpkin pie.
I want to have my relatives visit once before I die.
My toys are simple, I buy what I need, but do not waste.
I like paints, glitter, canvases, and decoupage paste.
A fire engine? Sure, maybe I wanted one once upon a time.
But I have all the toys I need now, darling husband, of mine.
You are wonderful, honey. Thank you for thinking of me.
Please don't put a fire engine under this tiny tree!
I made it to the other side
By Michelle Morris
26/11/2022
When I'm gone
I wonder if you'll notice
You're so wrapped up in yourself
I barely stood a chance
Narcissism and relationships
Not a good combination
I should've known better
Than to take a risk on you
Now that I'm away from you
The air is so much cleaner
The world is full of brighter colours
And I am filled with hope
I can't believe I took so long
To escape your vice like grip
I guess your isolating tricks
Became too obvious to me
Older and wiser
I certainly paid the price
Knowing my self-care
Is not worth all your cries
I don't know what I saw in you
But you were pretty persistent
Like a predator hunting game
You made me weak and breathless
Will you look back on us
As a tyranny type experiment?
Or are you so deeply damaged
That you can't see your errors?
I am free and I am alive
I made it to the other side
You'll become a distant nightmare
As I feel my joy and thrive
© Michelle Morris, 2022
Time catches up with us
When we think we can outrun it.
We inevitably slow down,
But time presses on steadily, [and]
Before we know it, we’re entrapped
In the web of our consequences,
And all the things we thought
Wouldn’t, really did matter.
Time catches up with us,
So much older and wiser than we,
It has seen our kind come and go
And, all the while, marched steadily
Not altered or affected by our fates,
We came, we went; time carried on.
Time catches up with us,
The years come and go
As we grow older, scarcely noticing
Time passes us by, and we say,
“Where did the time go?”
“Time goes by so much faster!”
But, truthfully, time just moves along
While we slow down and, then, stop.
Written April 2, 2022
If I made you feel sad or mad yesterday,
I apologize for making you feel that way.
Because that was not my intention at all,
We both made mistakes, our downfall.
But today, I'm a little older and wiser,
I would embrace being a compromiser.
I know the harm cruel words can cause;
sometimes, we need to regroup and pause.
I aim to build you up, not tear you down,
Make you smile; take away that big frown.
With that being said, I may fall short
because I'm not perfect; I have a wart.
Whatever the case, know I adore you,
I have your best interest at heart too;
When you are down and feeling blue,
I will always root for you in all you do.
Alexis Y.
07-28-2021
I shall send a letter to my son
About the deep joys of fatherhood,
My advice when all is said and done
To always do what is right and good.
Of many other things I shall tell him
I shall send a letter to my son
But, of course, in the long interim
Here are thoughts I will have spun.
I will tell him of his mother’s love
How very much I loved him, too,
I shall send a letter to my son
And seal it when I am through.
Years from now when I am gone
When he is older and wiser still
When my curtain greets the dawn
I shall send a letter to my son.
April 26, 2021
There was a time when my yesterdays and tomorrows
Flowed into a seamless, steady stream of time slowly passing
With little change, nothing appeared to change from day to day -
I did not worry about what another tomorrow might bring
I never gave a second thought to becoming "another day older"
Or, for that matter, "deeper in debt." [nod to "16 Ton"]
Now, each day poses limitless opportunities for stress and strain -
New directions, new pains, new worries, brand-new doors open
Before older squeaky ones have closed, yesterday's problems
Had been mulled over, firmly grasped, solved, and cast aside.
Or is this merely the way I see life now that I am older and wiser
Finding myself reliving too many of my yesterday's today,
Grappling with the past, which is gone forever, while taking
On tomorrows before they even present themselves for consideration.
NOTE: The second stanza of this poem was chosen as Poem of the Day
by Poetry Soup. It stood alone as "Time Passing Day By Day."
Let us dance in the old fashioned way
bodies entwined, nothing much to say.
Two people in love just shuffling along,
to some old romantic, favourite song.
Oblivious to all, just us in the place,
you, me, the music, a smile on our face.
Peeling back the years as we cover the floor,
back to those heady, courtship days of yore.
When two hearts sparked and magic was born,
and now here we are, a little shop-soiled and worn.
Older and wiser, in the twilight of our years,
counting our blessings, the laughter, the tears.
Our bodies stiffer, our rhythm slowing,
our passion undiminished, our love still growing.
All the time hoping, praying for the chance,
for one more romantic, and slow, last dance.
I salute you oh, mighty Time:
My best friend,
My worst enemy
For
To live without you is simply
Unimaginable!
Throughout my existence
I have, unsuccessfully, struggled to accept
Whatever you brought to me,
Either it was a sweet smile
Or a bitter tear with
Equanimity
Since
I could not enjoy the one
Without
Suffering the presence of
The other
For
This, you told me, is the order of things,
This is what the heavens
Decree,
But
I, a fool ignorant, resisted!
Now, however,
Older and wiser, an obedient child of yours, oh Time,
I have finally become
So as
To abide by your universal rules
Of growth and decay
Without
My tightened lips, a single complaint to
pronounce!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
24 July 2020
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