Blowing off the dusty dust
Of my old, old family portrait album
I see, in the beginning of beginnings,
There’s a whole lot of me, me, me me and me
Baby me, toddler me, goofy me, cutie me
School photos up to my Senior year me
Dispersed amongst them are family occasions
Like Birthdays, Christmas, and the such
My favorites are the goofy, unpretentious ones
The LIVE and not people posing picture ones
That end up framed and hung up on the wall
Looking lost amongst the many, many other ones
Then, there’s the Big Vanilla envelope:
A Great, Great time capsule of ancestry and all
A Great, Great graveyard of black and whites
One especially catches my eye, sending chills down my back
There stands a man, older than dirt
That looks like he’s wearing my bamboo made shirt
Not only do I look exactly like him
Looking back at me is that same foolish grin
And so I have to look on the back to see who it is
But I can barely make out his name
And yet it turns out,
He’s my Great, Great, Great Great, Great Uncle Jim
My sons are always telling me that they can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Since I’m older than dirt myself, I guess I’m living proof of that. But just because I know how to do it, doesn’t mean I want to. It's a whole lot easier for me to feign ignorance and stare at them like I’m the dumbest thing alive, while one of you gets the chance to show up their old man. The big question must be, who is it that just got schooled?
All those who can, will
those who don’t want to do it-
Will get it outsourced
When I was a young lad in the prime of life
Never thought I'd still be around
When my driver's license said, “older than dirt!”
And my mind was no longer sound
But I can get away with a bunch of neat stuff
Rack it up to “he's left the planet!”
“His mental capacity equals that of a wee child”
Gonna take full advantage, run the gamut
Need to pee and dribble now and then
Talk in riddles and scratch my bum
Wipe my boogies on my Sunday clothes
And belch when company comes
Know all the tricks as I giggle to myself
It's a downright lead pipe cinch
Con them till they put me in a old pine box
Mumbling about my belly button lint
When I was young and still in my twenties
Thought eighty was ancient, never thought eventually
I'd be older than dirt
Instead of a squirt
Just yesterday against the wall, I was tossing pennies
When I was a young lad in the prime of life
Never thought I'd still be around
When my driver's license said, “older than dirt!”
And my mind was no longer sound
But I can get away with a bunch of neat stuff
Rack it up to “he's left the planet!”
“His mental capacity equals that of a wee child”
Gonna take full advantage, run the gamut
Just need to pee myself and dribble now and then
Talk in riddles and scratch my bum
Wipe my boogies on my Sunday best clothes
And belch when company comes
Know all the tricks as I giggle to myself
It's a downright lead-pipe cinch
Con them till they put me in an old pine box
Mumbling about my belly button lint
From a small accident I didn't foresee
Again, I see dirt all over me
It's no new alert
I'm older than dirt
So that's why it's attracted to me!
When I was young and still in my twenties
Thought eighty was ancient, never thought eventually
I'd be older than dirt
Instead of a squirt
Just yesterday against the wall, I was tossing pennies
Old And Holding Aces
I am old, youth lost does so deeply hurt
no more whiskey drinking brawls,
now slow and tired, feeling older than dirt
I no longer chase the pretty gals at all.
I am old, bad knees and snow on my head
no more , wild nights out dancing,
watch late news, now fall asleep instead
gone forever are my days out prancing.
I am old, can see the doorway awaiting
slow stepping my way over there,
Love-life over, no more sweet mating
I now can only sadly look and stare.
I am old, just damn glad to have now made it!
Do I now, hold onto last two aces or do I trade it?
Robert J. Lindley. 08-21-2015
Note- Sonnet mixture of truth , humor and
a sad realty!
Poetic leeway employed in the line about -
"Love-life over, no more sweet mating"
As trust me, thankfully that is not problem at all.
If dust could age it would be dirt
And dirt becomes us in ways we are so dirty
If our minds could grow would it burst?
It would be called mind-burst a quaint little idea
Introverted thought
Comes inverted
Little should we know when to paddle our own way
Struck by lightning thoughts of the ages
Look beyond the meadow or through the window
A blank stare goes no where
So comes dirt again it lays flat anywhere
It covers or soils you
I do not think it ages in ways that we know
So we carbon date it so we know
Dirt can grow become mountains I was told
The little mind-burst is a dirty I idea
That comes and goes when ever
Introverted thought is what people may say
Inverted thought is soil that can decay
So have fun with the ages
Older than dirt or Bluer than the sky
Is all we need to say is hello and good bye!
Generous to a fault,
stubborn as a mule;
a bit older than dirt
but as a general rule-
we treasure your smile,
love your sense of humor;
we applaud your *****
and we've spread the rumor-
that in your younger days
you ate fatback and greens
and could wield a switch
that made us shoot our beans.
In spite of all the memories
and recurring nightmare scenes,
we're proud to call you Mom
and glad we've got your genes.
My Dad Loved Me Forever
I asked him why this and why that
he would smile and adjust his old hat
Answer all my questions and be pleased
with questions he could use to tease
Why do clouds have funny shapes
some look like cats others like apes
How many fish swim in a school
how big is the biggest tool
Did mom send an angel to fetch me
how many leaves on that willow tree
Are you really older than dirt
does growing up start to hurt
Will I ever grow a big dark beard
are girls always sissy and weird
Did you ever hunt with your dad
does old age make you very sad
Why did you have to die
I really need to know why
Were you happy to be my dad
does missing you ever stop being so sad? Robert L.
When I was a young lad in the prime of life
Never thought I'd still be around
When my driver's license said, “older than dirt!”
And my mind was no longer sound
But I can get away with a bunch of neat stuff
Rack it up to “he's left the planet!”
“His mental capacity equals that of a wee kid”
Gonna take full advantage, run the gamut
Just need to pee myself and dribble now and then
Talk in riddles and scratch my bum
Wipe my boogies on my Sunday best clothes
And belch when company comes
Know all the neat tricks as I giggle to myself
It's a downright lead pipe cinch
Con them till they put me in a old pine box
Mumbling about my belly button lint
© Jack Ellison 2014
Time--it moves like a scalded cat,
And I--I creep like a snail.
Like a long tailed cat in a lawn mower's path,
I am nearing the end of my tale.
Now, it's said that you're only as old as you feel,
And aging, they say, doesn't hurt,
But, try to believe you're as young as you feel,
When you feel like you're older than dirt.
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