Hairline receding slightly
Waistline a little thicker
Gravity winning the battle
A few centimetres conceded
Even when walking proud
Hearing less acute
Necessitating the TV turned up loud
Eyes needing brighter light
Small print now a challenge
A world through four lenses
No longer two, especially at night
Joints a little rustier
Movement less fluid
Skin a little saggier
“Less firm” more polite
Settling in grooves and furrows
No longer snapping back
White and random hair sprouting
On head, from nose, in ears and on chin
The body the battleground scars of advancing years
A war we will never win
The mind and mood another matter
Age the superhero variable
Calmer, more sanguine
Experience and wisdom to the fore
A knowing wink and smile
Having done it, got the t shirt before
Random knowledge twinned with insight
TV quizzes a breeze
Navigating life’s necessary turbulence
With greater confidence and ease
Youth is not to envy
Advancing years we should embrace
The folly of the young
Firmly in the rear view mirror
We stand as time flies past us
Knowing a more contented future awaits
Categories:
rustier, age,
Form: Free verse
(The Torre Vela is a prominent castle tower
at the "prow" of the Alhambra Palace, and
dominates the Spanish city of Granada.)
My lame-ass lips can't even draw
McDonalds milkshake through a straw:
and if I must
run for the bus,
I take an oxygen inhaler.
You like your house? I rent a trailer.
But yell it through the loudest-hailer:
I kissed Leila!
Some lucky guy looks like George Clooney,
while I resemble Mickey Rooney.
I'm such a shmuck,
if vampires suck,
then call me Vlad the (Bad) Impaler!
I guard my dough? Like a drunken sailor.
But study this at Yale, or Baylor:
I kissed Leila!
I'll never win that Golden Globe
for lounging in a silken robe
like Errol Flynn,
appearing in
a bedroom scene with young Liz Taylor:
my books won't sell like Norman Mailer:
my jokes are rustier and staler
than ol' Jed Clampett's cotton baler:
I'm a no-mark, lamester, loser, failer.
But shout it from the Torre Vela:
I kissed Leila!
Categories:
rustier, humorous,
Form: Rhyme
(Torre Vela = prominent tower, part of
the Alhambra palace, Granada, Spain)
My lame-ass lips can't even draw
McDonalds milkshake through a straw:
and if I must
run for the bus,
I take an oxygen inhaler.
You like your house? I rent a trailer.
But yell it through the loudest-hailer:
I kissed Leila!
Some lucky guy looks like George Clooney,
while I resemble Mickey Rooney.
I'm such a shmuck,
if vampires suck,
then call me Vlad the (Bad) Impaler!
I guard my dough? Like a drunken sailor.
But study this at Yale, or Baylor:
I kissed Leila!
I'll never win that Golden Globe
for lounging in a silken robe
like Errol Flynn,
appearing in
a bedroom scene with young Liz Taylor:
my books won't sell like Norman Mailer:
my jokes are rustier and staler
than ol' Jed Clampett's cotton baler:
I'm a no-mark, lamester, loser, failer.
But shout it from the Torre Vela:
I kissed Leila!
Categories:
rustier, humorous,
Form: Rhyme