Fading away as the days
dwindle down to a dismal few
I'm still grinning
what more can I do
my head's spinning
eyes dimming hair thinning
but if the devil's in the details
he drives a hard bargain
and if heaven's like a five-star hotel
with 'Welcome' on the mat
remember when beginning
your final innings
there'll be no winning
when you're up at bat
Categories:
thinning, age, how i feel,
Form: Rhyme
Try to ride this wind of hope
do not touch the depth with your feet
fall through and change your past
don't hesitate to exit but meet young you.
Trouble hunts the width of love
thinning hate hunts for attention
this is your reflection, not mine
just because i am truly blind.
Take away all that lasts and rusts
to see all the rest fall to dust
nothing must happen this fast
just have a blast don't worry.
Categories:
thinning, age, appreciation, inspirational, perspective,
Form: Free verse
The light is thinning.
A ragged man struggles
to carry an unboxed
large plasma screen.
He is walking it home,
he has no home
still, he is walking it,
but now it's raining
the TV becomes
a slippery umbrella.
There is so little light to be had,
no one goes to the park
not even to stare at the sky,
not even to walk a dog,
not even to smoke a cigarette
huddled behind
a dripping tree trunk.
A TV slides down
a slick grassy bank.
A bad day for minstrels,
knights and stray unicorns.
An old woman,
hands wrapped
in fingerless wool,
tugs at an abandoned
plasma screen.
After sliding down a grassy bank
she gives up.
Beetles spill out of a ruck of turf.
Her heels disappear into a gray light.
The beetles take shelter
under a large television.
Categories:
thinning, poetry,
Form: Free verse
A pair of new shoes in the thrift store,
the old shoes would shuffle away
from them if they could.
A ragged man struggles
carrying a large plasma screen
in outstretched arms.
He is walking it home
but he has no home
still, he is walking it.
There is little light to be had,
no one goes to the park
not even to stare at the sky,
not even to walk a dog,
not even to smoke a cigarette
huddled behind
a damp tree trunk.
A muffled clomp of boots,
a drizzle of slow traffic,
sludge iced over with iron
all this keeps away
unnecessary movement.
A bad day for minstrels,
knights and stray unicorns.
No one is curious
about the thinning daylight,
how it falls listless
upon new shoes.
An old woman,
hands wrapped in fingerless wool,
takes the new shoes home.
She walks them home
in a burlap bag
recycled by blind beetles.
Many humped mounds of shoes,
now rest in an unlit solitude.
An oversized plasma screen
struggles with a ragged man
as they walk past her dark window.
The new shoes do not fit well
with the old heaps -
not yet.
There is no more walking
or loose ends
to fray
by the end of the day.
Categories:
thinning, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Trump With Hair Thinning from Beginning
He sure has an interesting way of things displaying,
Even though he is growing old and hair is graying;
Big, brash boss,
With memory loss;
What next is it this moron may be gaily saying?
Jim Horn
Categories:
thinning, allegory, analogy,
Form: Limerick
Despair...
limp hair
falling:
screaming!
A cure...
for sure?
Quick-fix...
Rogaine!
Who laughs?
Who cares!
I'm young,
not old!
Ladies
notice...
dark suit,
white shirt:
free-way
to joy!
All stare...
fanfare:
not hot
to perk?
Petty...
not me!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Categories:
thinning, funny
Form: Sestina
The crystal ball snow pierced
the biting autumn wind;
parting the dancing, curled, brown leaves,
as they leapt across the lurid landscape.
Jack-o-lanterns and ruby red mums shivered.
Scarecrows on their crossed pickets,
leaned precariously against bales
of salt marsh hay, wafting in the gale.
Remnants of the verdant summer’s
autumnal greenery,
beat the black clouds, blotting the weak,
white light of noon.
Shards of light pricked the haze
adding a dreamlike effect
day….night….
The world awaited Samhain’s Eve.
Snow fell frantically from the firmament
fighting to coat the last of the
pink cone flowers.
And the world was full of the scent of cider and cinnamon.
Categories:
thinning, autumn, light,
Form: Free verse
No one owned the tears,
a tale of frozen pain,
prayed in dark,
making the silence harder to hear.
A classic fire scalds the monument of life.
A patch of grief here
and there, lets out the mystery.
A reclusive self
between window and moon,
unfeels the broken clouds,
bangs the sky.
Suffering the obscenities of the inverted earth,
life propels you to go empty hands
in your domain.
Shadows are thinning.
Waning moon crawls slowly
somebody said, catch me if you can,
my being.
The world never understood,
went on digging the holes
in the hearts,
burning the boots.
SATISH VERMA
Categories:
thinning, adventure, allegory, angst, animals,
Form: ABC