Just a simple smile
can warm the coldest heart
just a doodle on a page
becomes a work of art
just a moment can last a lifetime
when our memories are clear
sweeter as the days go by
to tell a lending ear.
Its funny how the old folks
love to talk the night away
until you become an old folk to
and the humor starts to fade
Memories of days gone by
things you did and didn't do
regrets, mistakes are all counted
as lessons through and through
next time an old timer
has an important story to share
listen closely to what they say
they tell you because they care
wisdom comes through living
be reverant to them now
this is their way of giving
if you listen some way some how.
WRECKS
Battered funnel, broken hawsers, holes in deck,
Grounded on concrete platform like an old man sitting on bench,
Portholes all broken, shaft and screw missing : a wreck ,
Her story told by old charts, scattered, water-drenched.
Battered hat, torn trousers, holes in shoes,
Old man on a bench, like a ship in dry dock, rust splattered,
Eyeglasses cracked. Some say he has a screw loose :
Tell you stories about the old days when he mattered.
With cargoes varied, they traveled the world,
Saw exotic island sunsets in Straits of Malacca,
Braved storms in the Bering Sea - ice cold,
And endured war sagas at the siege of Malta.
Azure winds picks desert puffs off the canyon crests.
Corliss trots the edge of the plateau, shimmering red rock.
Over yonder the village hangs a sign, "No Good Corliss: Shoot On Sight."
When the years stretch on like an aching Texas sun,
Bad man Corliss will lay down his arms, his anger, even his grit.
Only the boy who rode the small calf will be left to pump the blood from his old heart.
Yard sales a hundred years later will sell 19th century memorabilia:
"I got this from my great-grandpa, said he got it from an old outlaw."
"Shoot, you don't say? Looks like the mark of a real cowboy."
HAPPY OLD MAN
Happy old man
Alone watching television
No cards no phone calls
Tin of beans for dinner
Son in Los Angeles
Daughter in London
They must have been
Too busy to call
He understands
He loves them
For they are his children
Happy old man
AS I WALK ON BY, I SEE PEOPLE IN DIFFERENT FORM OF LIVES
SOME WONDERING ABOUT SURVIVING THE DAY AND THE COLD NIGHT
THEN MY EYE GLIMPSE A OLD TREE THAT HAS FORGOTTEN TO BREEZE
THERE HE SITS BEFRIENDING HIS ONE AND ONLY OLD STICK
ANOTHER PERSON I SEE, LOOKING FOR A REASON TO BELIEVE
OR THINKING FOR A REASON TO END THE MISERY
DOWN THE LANE IN THE RESTAURANT, ORDERING FOOD TO QUENCH THE TASTE
OUTSIDE THE DOOR STANDS A MAN SO POOR WANTING A PIECE OF THE BROKEN BONES
I may not be the greatest lover
Or have the biggest tool in the shed
But over the years I’ve learned a few tricks
And know my way around in bed
She was twenty years my junior
And stuck in this lonely old town
Needing a shoulder to cry on
Her spirits and life were down
Well, one thing led to another
As we drank and talked through the night
We ended up under the covers
Neither of us knowing if this was right
I treated her more tenderly
Than any of her younger lovers ever did
Took the time to discover
Where her sexual g-spots hid
I wasn’t in any hurry
To reach my own climax
As I focused on her pleasures
Teaching her how to relax
She was taken to places she’d never been
By this man she hardly knew
Never expecting to want to see me again
When that night was through
She still lives in this old town
And has gotten on with her life
She teaches in the high school
And is now a mother and wife
But still every now and then
When she feels a little bit low
And wants to experience nirvana again
She visits to have another go
I am stuck in the stone ages
When I am at my mom’s house
I have no computer
Or TV
But I have my broken down tape player
And I know the people in these old movies
I know Michael J. Fox
And I know the movie the princess bride
If you ask any of the kids I know about those movies and people
They’ll say “what?”
It makes me feel good
That I know these old movies
Because it means I haven’t forgotten the past
Leaving the Station
Each morning
I step from the train
and march with the others
leaving the station.
The weatherman's warned of rain
so we're armed
with umbrellas,
our briefcases swinging.
Across from the station
there's an old hotel
high in the sky. King Kong,
everyone calls it.
In tall windows
old men appear,
disappear, reappear.
It is August in Chicago
and the old men wear
overcoats and homburgs
so no one can steal them.
They light cigarettes,
mumble and curse
at the daily parade
leaving the station.
Traffic is thick
but even in winter
no one looks up
since no one can hear them.
Donal Mahoney
You wear luck
Like you were born to it
Bred to it
Like pink skin over old scars
New spanking suits on old men
This kalaidescope of favor
Falls directly into your lap
Yet
When your luck runs out
You scream and shout to the angels
Now you are in a place
Where cherubim and seraphim turn a
Deaf ear
You are forever bound to a solitary
Fortune
Don't have as much the time now days
Wondered how you were going
Just a glimpse of your somewhat familiar face
Upon my computer makes me smile.
Thanks to those who invented facebook
To ease our weary wondering souls
Our childhood friendships renewed once again
We finally found that so long lost friend.
As I run the mouse over many friends of friends
I spot a new---old one every now and then
I send that old friend a friend request to find
As precious memories of them flood my mind.
Oh it isn't so much fun to know
I didn't after all
in my past leave you way behind.
My new found old long lost friend.
Linda Terrell
December
Older people looking for old school friends
on facebook get reunited everyday!
This one is for all of those I have again
made contacted with that am so glad you
did not remain in my past!
An ugly, old fellow reaches high
Through his gold and many fine lines
He grabs youth and beauty he lacks
The cursed blessing twice it blacks
The odd couple consummates ambitions’
Love; rather than Love’s ambitions
The exchange, rather short
Owing to the tragedy of life
The young must do the striving;
For the old will still be dying.
He had plastic bags wrapped 'round his shoes
He was covered with the evening news
Had a pair of old wool socks on his hands
The bank sign was flashing "5 below
It was freezing rain an' spittin' snow
He was curled up behind some garbage cans
I was afraid that he was dead
I gave him a gentle shake
When he opened up his eyes
I said,"Old man are you ok?"
He said,"I just climbed out of a cottonwood tree
I was runnin' from some honey bees
Drip dryin' in the summer breeze
After jumpin' into Calico creek
I was walkin' down an old dirt road
Past a field of hay that had just been mowed
Man I wish you'd just left me alone
'Cause I was almost home..."
Then he said,"I was just comin' round the barn"
'Bout the time you grabbed my arm
When I heard Momma holler son hurry up
I was close enough for my old nose
To smell fresh cobbler on the stove
And I saw daddy loadin' up the truck
Cane poles on the tailgate
Bobbers blowin' in the wind
Since July of '55
That's as close as I've been to being home
Old tin roof, plastered adobe walls that were melting
Two big Cottonwood trees, junk cars in the back
Cracked concrete floor, covered with oil and grease
Mexican kids running in and out, playing and screaming
Couple of water jugs, covered with gunny sack
In all of this was some sort of peace
Joes Montes was the owner, we just called him Joe
Joe spoke good broken English, had a little accent
Talked a lot with his hands, pointing at this and that
Did not advertise, everyone knew Old Joe
Been there for years, did not pay any rent
Always wore a greasy cap, never wore a hat
Farmers up and down the valley swore by Joe
When a tractor was down, they knew who to call
Jump in his old truck and he was there
Been known to use bailing wire, he would make them go
Cotton pickers to a hale bailer, he worked on them all
Never charged much, was always fair
Adobe wall have melted, Joe has passed away
In that old shop where a lot of memories were made
No telling how many tractors Joe made run
Tractors now have computers, not in Joe's day
The Cottonwood trees make no more shade
Joe was a tractor fixing son of a gun
I answered the door with a frown on my face,
I couldn't be bothered,too busy in the rat race.
But answer it I did, and what did I find,
But a filthy old man, hands dirty, holding a sign.
"Can I do some work for you," he asked politely.
I don't need much, I only ask that you feed me.
I almost shut the door, going to brush him aside,
But I stopped; it was the sadness deep in his eyes.
I glimpsed his dog tags from a war way before my time,
A veteran, out on the streets, this was a crime.
Right then and there I had a change of heart.
This old man needed help, and this would be a start.
I welcomed him in, sat down and took off my tie,
Poured us both a cup of coffee, not really knowing why.
The rat race would have to finish without me this day.
I had a more important job, helping an old man find his way.
"Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels
unawares." Hebrews 13:2
Space Traveling man
alone within his steel can
Laying down thinking
A really old haiku of mine, so old that I don't even remember writing it lol
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