We may not look forward to being old,
But there are perks for those of us who get to be old,
Which is a perk in itself.
If you become old enough to be pensioned off,
That gives you more perks,
If most of what you have still works.
But the perks that I find give one much pleasure,
We get in good measure,
Without spending one cent.
Most of the time we get to choose whether
To go out in bad weather,
And when the sun is out in winter we can get its full benefit.
Do you know what it’s like
To be required no more,
To be put out to grass,
To be kicked out the door,
To know your work’s ended,
No more will be done,
To be slung on the tip,
Pushed aside by the young,
To be pensioned off
In an unceremonious way,
To know you’ve had yours,
Every dog has its day,
To have an appetite for work,
But be left to hunger,
To be replaced by someone
Less able but younger,
To be told you’re too old,
When you feel in your prime,
To be sent on your bike,
Before it’s your time,
To be all washed up
And flushed down the drain,
To have no physical wounds,
But still be in pain,
To feel your age,
Find you’re no Peter Pan,
To see your life going
No longer to plan,
To recall when you felt rich,
But now you feel poor,
To hear your heart slowly pumping,
Alas’ it races no more,
To experience an emptiness
That nothing will fill,
To have no medical symptoms,
But still feel ill,
To be out of control
Of your own destiny,
To be constantly asking
Why me ... why me?
Finnegan’s horse heard on the grape vine
The local mafia were in a bit of tizzy
Trying hard to find who was leaking
Deepest secrets to the local bizzy
Nobody suspected Finnegan’s horse
As he trod his steady course
And day by day month by month
Over a decent period of time
Statistics were showing
More detected crime
And finally it was decided
It was such a safe place
Even the home secretary
Dare show his face
With only a dozen local minders
And thirty or so body guards
To keep him safe as he made a speech
Then quickly rush back Londonwards
Finnegan’s horse caught the talk
As he plodded majestically past
And to pay his sincere deep respects
Broke wind with a resounding blast
And the national press of course
Paid their respects to Finnegan’s horse
Saying how privileged it was to be there
To hear two separate sources of hot air
And Finnegan’s horse was pensioned off
Swearing blind it was an accident
No disrespect was really meant
And Harry Finnegan still loved his horse
But not in any carnal way of course
tbc
Word-Worker
Thee procurement and collection
Of this smattering of letters
No matter your predilection
For future employment of type setters
To criss and cross all the tees and eyes
Paying close attention to the prose
Transcribing thine inner reflections width and lengthwise
In all subsequent rows
By paying out the aforementioned
It may be held in contention
That without future authorship; I would be un-pensioned.
16NOV20
It’s vast and its infinite, it never ends
It goes on forever, no corners no bends
Planets are specks in the void that is space
Stars are the glitter that keep them in place
I passed all the tests of wit, strength and skill
They asked me to lead, I told them I will
For ten years we’ve thrust through the void aforementioned
We shall not return, we shall never be pensioned
A planet who’s star that no telescope glimpsed
The home to which all of humanity limps
I captain my family, they serve as crew
A format I know is familiar to you
I won this position through moral stability
My physical strength and mental agility
This journey we make through laborious black
Entrusted to those who refuse to look back
My children may live to see our destination
Their mission to create a new human nation
Though ten years have gone, since we fled that last war
I doubt I can stand thirty-seven years more
My wife shares the helm with my kids buckled in
I dribble a bit down my chinny chin chin
I’m losing my mind, and it’s a sure bet
It’s down to my kids yelling...
‘Are we there yet?’
14 January 2021
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
Contest: Musings on Space
Fair Hilda, pass, I pray, that flagon.
I now must face my final dragon.
Valkyrie, deny not mead, the stuff
Of courage. To be courageous is enough.
Whence courage comes what do I care
As I approach my dragon’s lair?
Dragons twain are by me slain.
Dragon-slayer is my name.
Those days were spent in bygone youth,
And now grey age comes on forsooth!
O Hilda, beetle not thy brow.
Old men can show ‘em young’ns how.
What now I cannot, yet once could
Experience, doubt not, makes good.
Alone my fearful reputation
Ensures an easy amputation.
Yet of the issue irrespective,
Loss and gain are all perspective.
And what though “the worst” transpired,
Knights, once pensioned off, grow tired.
For life’s a drag, when dragons are no more.
To dragons then this flagon’s dregs let’s pour.
Cant lift my eyes beyond half past seven anymore
Nay! I do not wish to see...
Past hyphens and inverted commas
Lies and more catastrophe
Ambidextrous clock with appalling brevity
The second hand throws away society
Caught on the hook of an apostrophe
Hit and run humanity
With what shall I beseech thee?
Amix with soot and grime am I today
I painted me....! I mascara'd me!
Not this... warpaint for smudges
A discard of society
Sunk in dank mediocrity
Left to dream on the periphery
Sacked and sold with all their niceties
And pensioned off into obscurity
Cascading through the fingers of our hands
Groans the running Namib sands
Camel plods along ignoring facts
Dali's clock is molten wax - a mystery
Certain as Terrabyte and Megabitten memory
Omits to call- forgets to visit me
A Message
Our old captain was pensioned off, he had been
the master on the same ship for ten years and at
sixty five he didn´t know where to go as his whole
life had been the sea. The first officer was taking
over. He had noticed the old man every morning
went on the bridge, opened a locked drawer and
read something from a folded piece of paper.
The first officer having sewed on an extra ring on
his uniform, now had four, was curious opened
the drawer. On the paper was written: starboard
is right and portside is left.
A bullet ended life:
Another pensioned wife,
And little children who
Recall a suit of blue,
And father they once knew.