Come On In, The Senility Is Fine
People live forever in Jacksonville and St. Petersburg and Tampa,
But you don't have to live forever to become a grampa.
The entrance requirements for grampahood are comparatively mild,
You only have to live until your child has a child.
From that point on you start looking both ways over your shoulder,
Because sometimes you feel thirty years younger and sometimes
thirty years older.
Now you begin to realize who it was that reached the height of
imbecility,
It was whoever said that grandparents have all the fun and none of
Of The Four Ages Of Man
Lo, now four other act upon the stage,
Childhood and Youth, the Many and Old age:
The first son unto phlegm, grandchild to water,
Unstable, supple, cold and moist's his nature
The second, frolic, claims his pedigree
From blood and air, for hot and moist is he.
The third of fire and choler is compos'd,
Vindicative and quarrelsome dispos'd.
The last of earth and heavy melancholy,
Solid, hating all lightness and all folly.
Here
Here I am in the garden laughing
an old woman with heavy breasts
and a nicely mapped face
how did this happen
well that's who I wanted to be
at last a woman
in the old style sitting
stout thighs apart under
Ginza Samba
A monosyllabic European called Sax
Invents a horn, walla whirledy wah, a kind of twisted
Brazen clarinet, but with its column of vibrating
Air shaped not in a cylinder but in a cone
Widening ever outward and bawaah spouting
Infinitely upward through an upturned
Swollen golden bell rimmed
Like a gloxinia flowering
In Sax's Belgian imagination
As Life Was Five
Portate bien,
behave yourself you always said to me.
I behaved myself
when others were warm in winter
and I stood out in the cold.
I behaved myself when others had full plates
and I stared at them hungrily,
never speaking out of turn,
existing in a shell of good white behavior
with my heart a wet-feathered
The Deer Lay Down Their Bones
I followed the narrow cliffside trail half way up the mountain
Above the deep river-canyon. There was a little cataract crossed the path,
flinging itself
Over tree roots and rocks, shaking the jeweled fern-fronds, bright bubbling
water
Pure from the mountain, but a bad smell came up. Wondering at it I clam-
bered down the steep stream
Some forty feet, and found in the midst of bush-oak and laurel,
Hung like a bird's nest on the precipice brink a small hidden clearing,
Grass and a shallow pool. But all about there were bones Iying in the grass,
After Blenheim
It was a summer evening,
Old Kaspar's work was done,
And he before his cottage door
Was sitting in the sun,
And by him sported on the green
His little grandchild Wilhelmine.
She saw her brother Peterkin
Roll something large and round,
Which he beside the rivulet
The Battle Of Blenheim
It was a summer evening;
Old Kaspar’s work was done,
And he before his cottage door
Was sitting in the sun;
And by him sported on the green
His little grandchild Wilhelmine.
She saw her brother Peterkin
Roll something large and round,
Which he beside the rivulet
Paradise Lost: Book 12
As one who in his journey bates at noon,
Though bent on speed; so here the Arch-Angel paused
Betwixt the world destroyed and world restored,
If Adam aught perhaps might interpose;
Then, with transition sweet, new speech resumes.
Thus thou hast seen one world begin, and end;
And Man, as from a second stock, proceed.
Much thou hast yet to see; but I perceive
Thy mortal sight to fail; objects divine
Must needs impair and weary human sense:
Paradise Lost: Book 10
Mean while the heinous and despiteful act
Of Satan, done in Paradise; and how
He, in the serpent, had perverted Eve,
Her husband she, to taste the fatal fruit,
Was known in Heaven; for what can 'scape the eye
Of God all-seeing, or deceive his heart
Omniscient? who, in all things wise and just,
Hindered not Satan to attempt the mind
Of Man, with strength entire and free will armed,
Complete to have discovered and repulsed
Señora X No More
Straight as a nun I sit.
My fingers foolish before paper and pen
hide in my palms. I hear the slow, accented echo
How are yu? I ahm fine. How are yu?
of the other women who clutch notebooks and blush
at their stiff lips resting
sounds that float graceful as
bubbles from their children's mouths.
My teacher bends over me, gently squeezes
my shoulders, the squeeze I give my sons,
Leaflets From My Life - My Father's First Letter On Life & Lotus
My dear father,
Who was determined to educate me well,
To the best of his ability.
Remained throughout my life,
A Guardian Angel!
I was sixteen then,
I was to travel with my Dad from Cochin to Coimbatore
To graduate in English Literature.
But fate intervened.
Poem (Old Man In The Crystal Morning After Snow)
Old man in the crystal morning after snow,
Your throat swathed in a muffler, your bent
Figure building the snow man which is meant
For the grandchild's target,
do you know
This fat cartoon, his eyes pocked in with coal
Nears you each time your breath smokes the air,
Lewdly grinning out of a private nightmare?
He is the white cold shadow of your soul.
Vincent Van Gogh 76 - Bonding With Christine
Vincent loved to have models to do his paintings.
When Theo's monthly fund arrived,
Every morning, he went round in search of models.
He would invite different kinds of people to his house,
Like an old woman from a mental asylum,
Or a grandmother with her grandchild.
He preferred labourers, farmers, cleaners or diggers,
Those people who had struggled or faced challenges.
He felt that people who had suffered and toiled in life
Had certain depth, strength and character on their face & body.
Leaflets From My Life - My Gorgeous Grandma
My Grandma
A beautiful lady,
Whose face shone like a silver moon,
So lovely, like a pink rose,
A natural, fair beauty,
Whose radiance spread around her
With the halo of a shimmering angel,
Lived a life, like a queen of the yore!
Grandma was the eldest child
The Fourth Of July 2018 (2)
Today is the Independence day of the USA
but I do not want to create a poem about that, oh nay!
it is the first birthday of my first grandchild
a baby boy with a soft heart, smart and loved
you can see that at the sparkling eyes of this happy child
currently he is in Ghana, with his parents, of course
that is for his mama's medical specialization, temporarily
*my Young Teacher
Anika awakens the child in me,
I watch her, as she fetches her toys
And shows off with pride and glee
With her, I don’t have to act poised.
I know, she is actually aware,
Whether am really having fun
Or just pretending to be there.
She never walks, always runs.
Balloon
I bought my little grandchild Ann
A bright balloon,
And I was such a happy man
To hear her croon.
She laughed and babbled with delight,
So gold its glow,
As by a thread she held it tight,
Then--let it go.
As if it gloried to be free
Sketch—new Year's Day, 1790
THIS day, Time winds th' exhausted chain;
To run the twelvemonth's length again:
I see, the old bald-pated fellow,
With ardent eyes, complexion sallow,
Adjust the unimpair'd machine,
To wheel the equal, dull routine.
The absent lover, minor heir,
In vain assail him with their prayer;
Fathers And Sons
A son sits by his father with questions in his eyes
The father looks down at his son, his pride he can't disguise.
There comes a time when every son must leave his father's care
and venture out into the world to see what happens there.
'Everything that I have learned has come from watching you,
every thought I comprehend from what you say and do.
The time has come for me to go and find my way alone,
your guiding hand will help me make decisions of my own.'