Getting old sucks - Page 5


Page 5 of 11 FirstFirst 1234567891011 LastLast
Results 41 to 50 of 106

Thread: Getting old sucks

  1. #41
    Honoured/Sadly Missed Courtjester's Avatar
    Join Date
    May 2011
    Location
    Yorkshire, United Kingdom
    Posts
    2,485
    Getting On A Bit

    Review your life said Socrates – no doubt he had a point.
    One dwells on this when old and grey with creaks in every joint.
    The great man didn’t quite mean that – he dwelt on higher planes,
    And grappled with philosophy far more than aches and pains.

    But he’s been gone two thousand years so will not mind a bit,
    If I tamper with his discourses and try to make them fit.
    Adapt them to the physical, those matters of the flesh,
    That press upon us ever more when we’re not young and fresh.

    The old boy downed a hemlock drink – some say he didn’t care.
    Most likely he was wondering what more he’d have to bear.
    He’d just about got to the end of three-score years and ten.
    So probably he deemed it wise to end things there and then.

    So passed from the Hellenic world a thinker of renown,
    A fellow upon whom today the scholars seldom frown.
    But enough of ancient Athens, let us now get up to date.
    I have a little tale to tell – bet you can hardly wait.

    My first six decades went quite well, the seventh wasn’t bad,
    But number eight has been so hard, it’s made me rather sad.
    It started promptly on the day, the big seven-o came round.
    While walking through a local park, I tumbled to the ground.

    At first it didn’t seem severe, I strode along all right.
    My trouble started later, in the middle of the night.
    Rib-cage, back and abdomen hurt like they were on fire.
    Hips and shoulders joined in too, the situation dire.

    It took three weeks to simmer down, four more to disappear.
    A very inauspicious start to such a landmark year.
    Two further months without a hitch and life seemed fairly kind,
    Until I was oppressed again, this time it was the mind.

    My landlady assailed me with some nasty allegations,
    Backed up by a battery of vicious imprecations.
    She’d always been so reticent, I never thought she’d try
    To scold me, then I realised that her mind had gone awry.

    Her son turned up that evening, confirming what I thought.
    He apologised profusely, poor fellow was distraught.
    I calmed him down but told him that our ways would have to part.
    Though hardly a spring chicken, I was game for one more start.

    Why stop at domicile I thought, I’ll try something more grand.
    So as well as changing residence, I also swapped the land.
    Left the Emerald Isle behind and made for Albion’s shores,
    Excitement making me forget that when it rains it pours.

    I got a house and settled down, but not for very long.
    A few months in my new abode then something else went wrong.
    The waterworks failed suddenly, a bolt out of the blue.
    What hitherto was crystal clear took on a different hue.

    My visits to the smallest room caused maximum dismay.
    I’d started passing pure vin rouge instead of Chardonnay.
    I scuttled off to see the doc, whose face betrayed some worry.
    He wanted me in hospital, and said we’d better hurry.

    The surgeon spoke harsh words to me of baccy, booze and diet.
    I had an argument in mind, then thought I’d best keep quiet.
    He seemed a formidable lad, not wise to make him cross.
    I was prostrate, he had a knife, so that made him the boss.

    He did his work then called on me and seemed in better humour.
    I’d soon be on my feet, he said, he’d shaved away a tumour.
    So back to domesticity – all quiet for a spell,
    Until another happening, that rendered me unwell.

    While out on foot one winter night, I sought a litter bin,
    But came upon a flower tub, located with my shin.
    A strip of me three inches long and nearly half as wide
    Had vanished, and though in some pain I sought it far and wide.

    I had no luck, so limped off home and got another shock.
    The missing rasher wasn’t lost but rolled up in my sock.
    I tried to fix it back in place, with plaster and saliva,
    Plus some herbal ointment that had set me back a fiver.

    I got it right and turned my mind to sprucing up the dwelling
    And overdid the labouring, but quite how there’s no telling.
    This time a whopping lump emerged above the right-side groin.
    It felt much like a cricket ball embedded in the loin.

    So off to the GP again – by then it was a habit.
    ‘Spread out upon the couch,’ he said, ‘we’ll just let dog see rabbit.’
    He diagnosed a hernia, no cause for great alarm.
    The surgery was simple and I needn’t have a qualm.

    The sawbones was a gloomy chap but knew well what to do.
    Got through four jobs like mine that day, with me last in the queue.
    I’m back and in the saddle now, at work with pen and ink,
    With senses honed by recent woes, or so I like to think

    Carved up twice in fourteen months, I’m wondering what’s next.
    Another in the lower regions, that would get me vexed.
    But providence is on my side, I feel it in my bones.
    It won’t be liver, pancreas, or even kidney stones.

    I’m going for lobotomy, if fate will let me choose.
    The old grey matter’s addled, so I haven’t much to lose.
    When this thought occurred I guessed my brain would just go reeling,
    Then I got the point that where’s there’s no sense there’s no feeling.

    From ‘Madazine’



    * * *
    [CENTER][B][I][SIZE=3][FONT=times new roman]Even though the darkest clouds are in the sky,
    You mustnít sigh and you mustnít cry.
    Spread a little happiness, as you go by.

    [/FONT][/SIZE][/I][/B][B][I][FONT=Times New Roman]O:)[/FONT][/I][/B]
    [SIZE=2]
    [/SIZE]
    [/CENTER]

  2. #42
    Member queenslime's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2014
    Location
    Budapest, Hungary
    Posts
    11
    I don't think this has to do anything with getting old, I'm in my twenties and I can't remember or distinguish actors well either!
    My favorite thing is when I ask my parents/friends who that actor/actress is and they reply with 's/he is in many movies'. Yep, that helps a lot.

  3. #43
    Honoured/Sadly Missed Courtjester's Avatar
    Join Date
    May 2011
    Location
    Yorkshire, United Kingdom
    Posts
    2,485
    Dinner Party For The Elderly



    * * *
    [CENTER][B][I][SIZE=3][FONT=times new roman]Even though the darkest clouds are in the sky,
    You mustnít sigh and you mustnít cry.
    Spread a little happiness, as you go by.

    [/FONT][/SIZE][/I][/B][B][I][FONT=Times New Roman]O:)[/FONT][/I][/B]
    [SIZE=2]
    [/SIZE]
    [/CENTER]

  4. #44
    Why didn't they make Pam Ayers Poet Laureate?

  5. #45
    i don't know bazz..drum roll.... why?
    The only one who can heal you is you.




  6. #46
    Member hvysmker's Avatar
    Join Date
    Sep 2014
    Location
    Fremont, Ohio USA
    Posts
    706
    Blog Entries
    2
    I rarely write poetry, but here's one I did long ago:

    Progression of life
    --------------

    In the predawn of life,
    Children play in the sun.
    Affection rules, a lack of strife,
    With sexes mixing, free to run.

    At sunrise of life,
    Wondrous juices flow.
    Thoughts of sex begin to chafe,
    emotions raw with inner glow.

    In the morning of life,
    Searching ends with pairing won.
    A magical blend of man and wife,
    children strengthening the bastion.

    Comes the afternoon of life,
    With trials of seeming ageless bent.
    Endless problems fret with strife,
    Solved through work and appeasement.

    In the evening of life,
    Fears abide in fading light.
    Doubts cutting like a knife,
    Through efforts to stem the night.

    Along with the sunset of life,
    Comes acceptance of waning desire.
    Awakening thoughts of eternal life,
    A thing that the younger donít require.

  7. #47

    The good and the bad

    Today the wife decided to take me along on a trip to town. After about an hours ride, I sat in the car with the dog as she made a number of stops.

    Then she stopped at a bread and sandwich place to treat me to a bite to eat. As I was making my way slowly to the door with my walker, several young ladies were coming out and stopped to hold the door open which was a nice gesture.

    Inside the sandwiches were priced reasonably, but when I saw that coffee was $5.50 a cup I said in what my wife claims is an unusually loud voice due to reduced hearing, "Holly Mackerel, that's outrageous." To the wife and I's surprise, it seemed every customer in the place clapped.

    On the way out, again several young ladies were coming in and held the door for me. I said to one that it could be a long wait for me to move the five or six feet, and she replied that she wasn't in a hurry. I can't remember the last time I heard that, especially from a young person.

    Oh, if I were only younger, I was thinking to my self. Shhhh.

    On the drive home, the wife was getting annoyed at the driver ahead who was paying more attention to their phone than their driving. I spoke up saying, "Steady as she goes, don't want to keel the ship."

    In reply the wife said, "How about I keel the first mate?"

    On balance, an above average outing

    Site:
    Hidden Content

    The simplest truths are written on the wall,
    where we see imaginary greatness in our fall.

  8. #48
    Click image for larger version. 

Name:	getting-old-more.jpg 
Views:	6 
Size:	79.3 KB 
ID:	6953

    must reply to critique
    The only one who can heal you is you.




  9. #49
    What are you trying to say escorial

    Site:
    Hidden Content

    The simplest truths are written on the wall,
    where we see imaginary greatness in our fall.

  10. #50
    Honoured/Sadly Missed Courtjester's Avatar
    Join Date
    May 2011
    Location
    Yorkshire, United Kingdom
    Posts
    2,485
    Quote Originally Posted by bazz cargo View Post
    Why didn't they make Pam Ayers Poet Laureate?
    A good question! Why didn't they, when she could write things like this?

    They Should Have Asked My Husband

    This world is complicated, imperfect, and oppressed,
    And itís not hard to feel timid, apprehensive and depressed.
    It seems that all around us tides of questions ebb and flow;
    People want solutions, but they donít know where to go.
    Opinions abound, but who is wrong and who is right?
    People need a prophet, a diffuser of the light;
    Someone they can turn to, as the crises rage and swirl;
    Someone with the remedy, the wisdom and the pearl.

    Well, they should have asked my husband!
    Heíd have told them, then and there,
    His thoughts on emigration, teenage mothers, Tony Blair,
    The future of the monarchy, house prices in the South,
    The wait for hip replacements, BSE, and foot and mouth.

    Yes, they should have asked my husband!
    He can sort out any mess;
    He can rejuvenate the railways, and cure the NHS.
    So, any little niggle, anything you want to know,
    Just run it past my husband, wind him up and let him go!

    Congestion on the motorways, free holidays for thugs,
    The damage to the ozone layer, refugees, and drugs?
    These may defeat the brain of any politician bloke,
    But present it to my husband; heíll solve it, at a stroke!
    Heíll clarify the situation, he will make it crystal clear.

    Youíll feel the glazing of your eyeballs
    And the bending of your ear.
    Corruption at the top? Heís an authority on that,
    And the Maffia, Gadhaffia, and Yassa Arafat.
    Upon these areas, he brings his intellect to shine,
    In a great, compelling voice
    Thatís twice as loud as yours or mine.
    I often wonder what it must be like to be so strong,
    Infallible, articulate, self-confident, and wrong.

    When it comes to tolerance, he hasnít got a lot:
    Joy-riders should be guillotined,
    And muggers ought to be shot!
    The sound of his own voice becomes like music to his ears,
    And he hasnít got an inkling that heís boring us to tears.

    My friends donít call so often;
    They have busy lives, I know,
    And itís not every day one wants to hear
    A windbag suck and blow.
    Encyclopaedias? On them, we never have to call.
    Why clutter up the bookshelf, when my husband knows it all?

    Pam Ayres



    * * *
    [CENTER][B][I][SIZE=3][FONT=times new roman]Even though the darkest clouds are in the sky,
    You mustnít sigh and you mustnít cry.
    Spread a little happiness, as you go by.

    [/FONT][/SIZE][/I][/B][B][I][FONT=Times New Roman]O:)[/FONT][/I][/B]
    [SIZE=2]
    [/SIZE]
    [/CENTER]

Bookmarks

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •  
This website uses cookies
We use cookies to store session information to facilitate remembering your login information, to allow you to save website preferences, to personalise content and ads, to provide social media features and to analyse our traffic. We also share information about your use of our site with our social media, advertising and analytics partners.