Tag Archives: Aging

Cease and Desist Order

 

Cease and Desist Order

My car’s due for an overhaul, but unlikely to get it.
My dog could use a clipping, but I’m not going to vet it.
I’m balking at improvements. I like things as they are.
I don’t want people poking at my dog or at my car.

Though my house might be enlivened by another coat of paint,
I like the faded, peeling look. I think it’s sort of quaint.
And though my coat is tattered and fraying at the hem,
it is my favorite garment—my closet’s unset gem.

You won’t wrest it from my clutches, for my grasp is strong and sure.
There’s not one thing in my whole life that’s needful of a cure.
So let my grass grow longer and let last fall’s leaves lay.
Let us all just rest here to molder fast away.

I do not want a face lift. I’m fine the way I am.
I have no need for beauty aids to make me look more glam.
When it comes to your suggestions, I must beg for their surcease!
All things don’t need improvement. You can let things age in peace.

 

 

Prompt words today are wrest, overhaul, balk and liven. First photo by Forgottenman. Second photo thanks to Curology on Unsplash. Both photos used with permission.

 

Locationally Challenged

Locationally Challenged

I’ve misplaced my glasses. Yesterday it was my keys.
If they weren’t attached, I’m fairly sure I’d lose my knees.
Some say I’m absent-minded, others say I am forgetful,
but whatever you may call me, you can bet I’m often fretful.

Whenever I walk through my house, I am forever gleaning
things I’ve lost throughout the week since Yolanda’s last cleaning.
But though I look for hours, my passport just stays lost.
I obsess about it all week long. My dreams are tempest-tossed.

Monday morning, when she arrives, it takes her just a minute
to approach me with her hand held out with my passport in it!
Ironic that though I’m the only one here who can use it,
that I also seem to be the only one who can’t peruse it!

First I lost my laptop and then I lost its mouse.
I looked under the sofa. I combed the whole darn house.
I sought it in the hammock, in the front seat of my car.
It wasn’t on the bathtub ledge, the table or the bar.

Finally, I found it in the last place where you’d look—
on the shelf above the kibble in the doggie nook!
Too many things to think about. Too many things to do.
I simply have to find a way where I can shed a few.

I’ll sacrifice my waistline and a smooth complexion. 
I’ll put up with my creaky bones and energy’s defection.
Just to keep my memory is all that I am asking,
like back when I was young and I excelled at multi-tasking.

 Prompt words for today are misplaced, bet, legendary and glean.

Overcast

 

Overcast

The light soaks through the haze, seeking refuge from the gloom.
Through a western window, it seeps into my room.
I, too, could use an ally. I am gutted and alone,
feeling jaded to earth’s pleasures. I’ve stripped them to the bone.  

What is left to pique excitement after all these years?
What new thrills are there to savor as my ending nears?
They are enough, I answer, the adventures that I’ve made.
Now is the time to bask in them, then let the sunlight fade.

Word prompts today are: jade, refuge, excited and ally.

All in Everything

Click on photos to enlarge.

All in Everything

My heart as empty as a room the party’s left behind,
I tell myself I am at peace and that I do not mind;
but it may be pertinent, if I am being truthful,
to admit as I say these words, that I am feeling ruthful.

Day-by-day, I improvise, insisting I am free.
‘I” can pursue anything not limited by “we.”
Driving past the railroad tracks, an engine rushing by
reminds me of those trips when I was young and wild and high.

Cheyenne out to Oregon, Sydney to Melbourne town.
Always a new place and new adventure going down.
That local train in Java, stopping a thousand times
at every local village–the hawkers and the mimes 

flooding all the aisles and all the window frames
insistently proficient in their selling games.
All the places where I went teeming with new faces,
constantly observing as life put me through its paces.

Before old age annexed me, I had a brilliant life
as student and explorer, as writer, artist, wife.
Those inevitable things, grave and prompting sorrow
were always covered over by the prospect of tomorrow.

But now that tomorrow is not such a certain thing,
I simply fall in line with whatever life may bring.
Knowing that I can’t flee fate, still I have seized my power
by finding a whole universe in bee and bird and flower.

 

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Prompt words today are empty room, pertinent, improvising, annex, railroad tracks and grave.

Back to the Beginning

Click on photos to enlarge.

Back to the Beginning

When I began my journey, I was jocular and young—
no hardness in my heart and no burrs upon my tongue.
I hadn’t joined the fracas and the chilling of the years.
I had none of life’s baggage—no heartaches and no fears.

Life had not disseminated all her tawdry facts
and I had not encountered them by gossip or by acts.
No tricksters had deceived me. My heart remained intact.
I knew not what I’d missed. I was naïve of what I lacked.

And now that I am older, I’ve returned to what I had
before I had decided I must follow every fad.
The things that I’ve acquired? I am loosening my hold.
I’ve found that satisfaction is not something that is sold.

I have simplified agendas, taking time to see and do
all the things I overlooked while in the human zoo.
The progress of a caterpillar on a hanging vine
as effective as a church in reaching the divine.

The flutter of a wing, the morning calls of birds
reveal as much about the world as news reports or words.
Drawing back into what’s basic and screening the uncouth
has helped me in regaining the lighter heart of youth.

 

Prompt words for today are journey, trick, fracas, disseminate, chilling and  jocular,

Memory

Memory

Life is like a labyrinth. Things may be just fine,
yet we don’t know what awaits us farther down the line.

We can’t discern our futures, so we must enjoy today
so at least we’ll have a past to remember, come what may.

Changes of perspective are bound to come with time.
We may not have the passions that we had in our prime.

We are changeable creatures. So nature has intended.
If we hold onto earlier goals, our lives may get upended.

In times of adversity, we still possess rare treasures.
Our recollections are where we can hoard our former pleasures.

 

Prompt words for today are down the line, adversity, labyrinth, discern, change of perspective and creature.

Joke of the Day: 1969 vs. 2019

1969 vs. 2019 (A span of only 50 YEARS)
1969 : Long hair
2019 : Longing for hair
196 9 : KEG
2019 : EKG
196 9 : Acid rock
2019 : Acid reflux
1969 : Moving to California because it’s cool
2019 : Moving to Arizona because it’s warm
1969 : Trying to look like Marlon Brando or Liz Taylor
2019 : Trying NOT to look like Marlon Brando or Liz Taylor
1969 : Seeds and stems
20 19 : Roughage
1969 : Hoping for a BMW
2019 : Hoping for a BM
1969 : Going to a new, hip joint
2019 : Receiving a new hip joint
1969 : Rolling Stones
2019 : Kidney Stones
1969 : Passing the drivers’ test
2019 : Passing the vision test
Do you feel old yet?
Pass this on to the other old fogies on your list.
(Notice the larger type that’s for those of you who have trouble reading.)
So have a nice day!!!
It is good to have friends who know about these things and are still alive and kicking!!!
This was sent to me by friends who received it from Tim Sparks. I’m not sure if he wrote it and as I couldn’t find it on Google, I can’t attribute it. Had to pass it on, however..

Remembrance of Things Past Aug 17, 2020

Remembrance of Things Past

I think I’ve vanquished wanderlust. I do not pine for travel.
All my wandering hopes and dreams have started to unravel.
I have no need to ameliorate the life that I am living.
I find that simpler pleasures are ones that keep on giving
pleasure far after the fact. It seems that memory substitutes
to satisfy what once I gained via other attributes.
Events in memory flower again  after their first flowering.
A simple  perfect blossom on a plant once lush and towering.
I no longer need it all. What I have is sufficient.
I’ve learned so much this lifetime that with more I’d be omniscient.
Year by year and friend by friend, I’m losing more connections.
I only hope that I will not outlive my recollections!

The prompt words today are vanquish, wanderlust, longer, ameliorate and hope

(Click on photos below to increase size.)

 

I was looking for one photo to illustrate the poem and got sort of carried away..I could have added sixty more, so if you are from a period of my life not represented, sorry..I just took them as I could find them and suddenly realized I was getting excessive.  You are in my heart even if not on this page…

Fernweh

Family trip to Idaho, 1950

 

I’m putting the prompt words first today as they include two obscure words and giving definitions to save you the problem of looking them up if, like me, you don’t already know the meanings. Prompt words today are fernweh (a German word that means the opposite of homesickness–a craving for travel or longing for distant places you have not yet visited), facetious, blanket, vellicate (to pluck, twitch, nip, pinch or cause to twitch), and complex.

Fernweh

I miss it, that feeling of fernweh–a craving for travel or a longing for distant places not yet visited that is one of my very earliest memories. I remember standing by the highway that passed through our town just two blocks south of the house I grew up in and longing to be that child with her nose pressed against the window looking back at me as the car she was in whizzed past. Who were they, these people in the cars that passed in strings through our little town each summer? “They are tourists” my mother told me, and I imagined tourists to be perpetual travelers with no homes of their own. What did I want to be when I grew up? “A tourist,” I would reply. Everyone laughed at what they considered to be a facetious reply. They had no idea that I meant exactly that.

Although I had been on short trips before–at the age of three, to visit relatives in Idaho, at the age of 8, to accompany my parents when they drove my sister to college in Iowa, other one-day trips to drive my sisters to summer camp, when I was 12, my family finally took the long vacation I always begged them to take. They left it up to me to decide where we were going, and I declared that I wanted us to start out and then take turns deciding which way to go. When we came to the first crossroads, I said “Left!” At the next crossroads it was my sister’s turn, then my mother’s and finally my father’s for two glorious weeks. We all agreed that it was a wonderful vacation. Because he never knew where we were going, my father couldn’t press us more quickly toward our destination than we may have chosen to go and so we stopped numerous times along the way and spent as long in each spot as we wished to. We saw cousins we had heard about but never met and visited old neighbors in Minnesota, just “dropping in,” but always being urged to spend the night, and doing so.

We wound up on the shores of Lake Superior–which to me looked like one of the oceans I had always dreamed of visiting. I remember sneaking out at night to collect water and sand from the lake in an empty prescription container—the rush of the waves dashing against the rocks, the blanket of stars overhead, that smell of freedom I had been longing to experience my entire life. It would be eight years more before I actually saw an ocean and at that time I would spend four months on it, sailing around the world. My parents thought it would solve my fernweh, but little did they know. The minute I graduated from college, I was off again.. to Australia, and then to parts more wild for four long years before finally returning home.

Life is complex and I have found that I am rarely able to predict what will happen next. That lust for change that has driven me my whole life to leave friends behind to explore foreign countries, to leave houses and careers I’ve spent years building to take off for the great unknown—that need to be the stranger and to face situations I have been in no way prepared for—has taken me to all but one of the seven continents. It is as though those yearnings for strangeness and change were errant hairs that needed to be vellicated and travel was the only way in which to pluck them.

So how does a person like me deal with the forced isolation that the coronavirus has foisted upon us all? Strangely enough, it has alleviated a guilt that has been creeping up on me for the past few years—a strange feeling of contentment regarding where I am and what I am doing. I am taking an intense pleasure in my own back yard, instigating changes in my house and garden that I’ve been too busy to attend to in my past years of going here and there. I am sorting through pictures of past travel, reading disks from long-dead computers that chronicle the adventures of long ago. I am starting to dread trips away from home, to enjoy days where I see no one, go nowhere. In taking off for longer trips inwards, I am perhaps growing into myself, seeking satisfaction there, perhaps because it is a richer place to be because of a lifetime of venturing out.

Heading out into the Timor Sea on a WWII tank barge, 1973

Film Legend

Film Legend

Once I was unstoppable, but now my moves are tentative.
My tones once sweet and wheedling have now turned argumentative.
My salad days gone limp, “cute as a penny” turned to brass,
people take as vitriol what once they saw as sass.
My image has been shattered. When I look in the mirror,
I prefer to view me far away instead of standing nearer.
I once was an ingenue with all the roles I wanted.
I faced the cameras brazenly, unfiltered and undaunted.
But now I find the only lenses on my face
are trifocals. The cameras? Gone without a trace.

 

Prompt words today are brass, tentative, unstoppable, benefit and shattered. Photos from Unsplash and other free sites.