I'm a happy octogenarian living content in a sprawling conurbation filling what spare time I have writing the odd poem. Lifes good, and armed with my bus pass travel to many destinations of interest, so abundant are these that being the age I am, will probably never have to duplicate A bit of advice to those dreading old age, It's not a time when active life stops, for with a little self discipline keeping fit etc. it is most definitely something you should look forward to. 'Cause while you're shackled to a clock watching regime, I'm jumping about free in a bowl of cherries type existence, that's full of concessionary or better still, free activities. Don't worry about future financial problems, for living in the slow lane you'll find money(used sensibly) is bottom on any list of priorities. Even if like me, your on basic pension. I'm now pleased to announce having lately in two thousand and sixteen self-published a paper back entitled "NOW I KNOW WHERE I'M@" consisting of an eclectic seventy or so comical and somewhat more serious rhymed pieces each with an easily interpreted profundity' (nothing mysterious about my stuff) inspired by and dedicated to Julian's W.O.L. international family of Poets. If curiosity is getting the better of you, it's available now at AMAZON books.
THE INSIDIOUS PROCESS OF DECAY From being young having seen been told I’ve had this fear of growing old a joint creaking pill taking medicinal hell encompassed in an atmospheric, geriatric smell. But now I’ve gotten old myself no hair, few teeth fell off the shelf in reasonable health though poor in wealth I’m not depressed ill or sad this being old "is not so bad" I’m feeling fit, and keeping well recite bad poems at the Ring O' Bell no inhibitions confident bolder don’t suffer, (I think) old people odour Best of my day has got to be after dark when it's time for tea smug warm wanting for nowt pile food on the plate proceed to pig out a large glass of wine then two then many find the remote, switch on the telly Antiques Roadshow Clarkson's top gears Ant and Dec The Three Musketeers dash from the bathroom after a pee don't want to miss what's next on TV but the drink kicks in it's not to be collapse flat out stretched on the settee Three in the morning wake and rally missed the end of Downton Abbey stomach rumbles need food to ingest snack on the dried gravy peeled off'f me chest discard the underpants socks and vest lay weary head on flat pillow to rest. Vibrating snores ripple stubbled cheek good job I drink only twice a week content as a babe asleep in it's cot one happy old wine stained bundle of grott. the whole place needs cleaning losing the plot couldn't care less if I'm smelly or not.
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
THE END OF A PERFECT WAY (15/01/2018)
THE RENEWABLE CYCLE (24/11/2017)
YOUR NOT HALF THE MAN HE WAS (10/11/2017)
WAR CHILD (02/09/2017)
A POEM OF MASS DESTRUCTION (06/08/2017)
IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE ? (24/05/2017)
WOE IS ME TO WOW IS ME (14/05/2017)
GREAT GRAND KIDS (02/04/2017)
- 2017 (1)
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