aging poems

Name on the Card | Will Schmit

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If I don’t reach you
on my last day
before the grave,
you can protest here.

Nothing’s imminent.
Don’t blot mascara
with the blank
page.

I’m not the grandparent
offering water
at the border.
No aluminum blanket.

Your calls will be answered,
by Chet Baker,
in the order they are
perceived.

After the birthday
the death day
gets a turn
at the wheel.

Maybe future morbidity
is just a weather
report from
the ICE age.

I wish, and wish again
the meek inherited
some sort of love
the proud overlooked.

More at http://www.schmitbooks.com/.

I Have No Explanation | Stan Morrison

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Memory is my enemy
Reminding me that I do not recall
Photos are an affliction
Full of ablated and forgotten connections
Old letters are a liability
Evoking nostalgia, bringing pain
Your presence is a respite
Animating my very soul

The Traveller | Aseno Terhuja

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Why do you fear Death,
Or Time or Ageing?
Your soul wants to be free.
Seeks to shatter the fetters
Of this fragile human body.
Before long, soil you shall be
Feeding this famished earth.
Or slumbering in an unlikely creek
Bestowing hope and solace
To parched and weary wanderers.
You were surely intended
To unlearn all of yourself
Become one with the whole.
Hearken! For the day quickly dawns
To return you to the universe.

Inventory | Stan Morrison

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I’m more than the sum of my parts
And I have so many many parts
Stationary, moving or out of order
Some parts wore out over time
Some ground to a complete halt
Some replacements are available
Some require the operating room
Some are in the cosmetics aisle
A few respond to undergarments
My wit, humor, vulnerability abide
Way past the usual warranty date
Outlasting the telomeres’ usual fate
Not a function of metabolic tests
Invisible on x-rays and on scans
Whether in working order or not
I’m so grateful for what I’ve got

Transformations | Bonnie Burka Shannon

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Their journey
Had just begun
Or so
It seemed
An existence
Consisting of
Gliding smoothly
From summer
To summer
Blessed with
Good health
Attractive façades
Toned bodies
And ample energy
All part of
Their summer package
At the beach
Then unexpected
Pain
Searing pain
That caused
An inability to float
With the
Summer breezes
Not the same summer
Not the same summer
At all
Health dilemma
Over soon?
They thought
While minimizing the
Diminished appearance
Weakened body and
Reduced energy
Of her soul
Then came alarm
Diagnoses absolute
Two intermingled findings
Stated In
Clipped tones
By a specialist
With little interest
Time catches up
They realized
With thoughts
Expressed wordlessly
In facial expressions
Hard to believe
Harder to accept
Even as bad news
Interrupted
With daunting diagnoses
She was
Not giving up
Never giving in
One step
At a time
Her brain said
One day
At a time
She told
Her friends
Visualizing cures
She pushed through mush
Though getting there slowly
Two steps forward
One step backward
But almost there
Almost there

More at http://shannon50.dudaone.com/poetry-by-bonnie.

Address Change – A Poem by Donal Mahoney

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Sending out an address change
to a friend I haven’t seen
in 50 years, I say
my wife and I are moving
someplace new next month
barring something unforeseen.
We realize something unforeseen
isn’t likely to happen since
we’re prepared for anything
as the years march on
and we march right behind them.
Second only to “I love you”
all we want to hear now is
the phone ring and the doctor say
“Good news. It’s benign.”

More at http://booksonblog12.blogspot.com.

When Breathing Is Just Not Enough | Judy Moskowitz

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I’ve been in a race even my shadow
Couldn’t catch me until late
So many I’ve loved and admired
Turned to dust
The wonder and waste of a still life
When breathing is just not enough
Is anybody listening to the cracking sound
Bone on bone a chronic lament
How do you weigh and measure gratitude
On a tipping scale of pleasure and pain
And yet poetry plays a serenade
Love came and kissed my face
There’s more to say
Something wonderful
Delivered late

Mirror | Sarah Nikonchik

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What is that in the reflection
A once beautiful flower is now withered
Unrecognizable from its former self
Its delicate petals unable to blossom
Colors forever vanished
The air is no longer warm
The sweet smell of honey is gone
Replaced by a stale isolation
The seasons change
The sun comes back everyday
And the moon at night
But that flower will never be the same
And neither will the reflection

More at http://my.w.tt/UiNb/FLvToq7C6z.

Keeping up My Image | Stan Morrison

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hey mirror clean up your act
I know what i really look like
and it surely ain’t dorian grey
all those sags and wrinkles
you gotta make ’em go away

yo mister smarty phone
you’d better smarten up
I know I got way more hair
than you’re now showing
so fix it if you really care

say mirror and camera listen up
and stop messing everything up
my left side ends up on the right
a similar fate’s waiting for my right
showing pure inversion perversion
if you can’t reflect a better version
I may never look your way again

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