Posts Tagged ‘aging’


Posted: December 19, 2015 in Poetry
Tags: , , , , ,



By David Allen
I am becoming
Less patient
With patience.
The promised rewards
Are not forthcoming
As advertised.
I am reaching an age
Where they say patience
Is natural and, naturally,
I am impatient
To find mine.
They say patience
Is a virtue and I find
I virtually have
Little left these days.
And so I sit, sip a beer
And wait impatiently
For something
To happen.

Barney and Clyde


Hello Truck,
Gee, I’m sorry it’s so cold.
Hello poor engine,
I’m sorry you’re so old.
It’s a shame to see you out like this,
You’re dying without hope.
I’d buy you all the things you need,
But I’m broke.

Hello fan,
I’ll get you a new belt someday.
Hello fuel pump,
I’ll try to help some way.
While I know this screw won’t fit you,
I guess it will have to do,
‘Cause my unemployment check
Is overdue.

Hello tranny,
Someday I’ll get you overhauled.
Hello tires,
I’m sorry you’re so bald.
Those big deep thread you once had
Are just a memory.
One day you’ll wear chrome hubcaps
Just wait and see.

Do you remember
The days when you were great?
Gobbling up the miles
At a terrific rate?
But rust has eaten at your body
And your mirrors are all cracked,
Like the fender dents you suffered
When sidewhacked.

So here you sit,
Out back behind the garage.
A junker stripped,
Marred by a bird poop barrage.
Sometimes I sit in your front seat
And relive our glory days,
As tears track down my cheeks
For how we’ve aged.

I’m raggedy, too,
As you can plainly see.
I’ve slowed my gait
Due to an arthritic knee.
We’ve both seen too many miles
Our day has finally come.
Well, I guess I’ll die here with you
My old chum.

By David Allen
(Written to an old Country and Western tune)


Posted: May 8, 2014 in Poetry
Tags: , , , , ,

clydea - Copy
Years Ago


Sand falls,
Watch hands beckon,
A shadow creeps.
Time is skewering us all
To the wall.
To the wall boys!
To the wall!
Man the ramparts!
Sound the alarm!
Push them back!
Stop time!
It’s no use!
Fall back! Fall back!
Hair recedes, grays.
Eyes, myopic, bag.
Arches fall,
Posture slouches.
Oh, the horror, the horror!

(Ah, forget about it,
It’s just another year.
Where’s the cake?)