I noticed today the loosely wrinkled skin On legs and arms, no defect, no disease But simply signs of time, the body's decrease Of power and of repair as these begin The ultimate indications of old age. ~ A.D. Hope ("Memento Mori" via Australian Poetry Library) I return again to memento mori, not to wax morose or moribund but to remind myself to laugh and dance and take nervous risks and strain ...
Body image
Clipping
Precision, I suppose, is the want of digits, though I’ve paired my nails with guillotines for the better part of four decades. Habit guides my thumb and forefinger in the dark as I follow the soft fingerprinted mounds. Who says poetry about clipping one's nails is slightly off? Starting now, I usher the rudiments of personal hygiene from the margins to the mainstream... Onward! ...
Twitch
ADHD today, but a twitch in 1975. And a twitch again today, but just a small twitch like a miniature heart beating in plain view to remind me I’m alive. I’m alive. I’m alive. (Source: "Twitch", 40x41: Midlife Crisis Postponed) Before ADHD was so tidily packaged up, some of us were just jittery, distracted kids. Hyper. But totally alive! This excerpt pops up midstream a poem about a subtle, ...
Calypso
When thirty nine sashayed in with her bodacious tatas and voluptuous curves I panicked. My dormant radar quivered to life. “Beware: Temptation.” flashed the neon pulse. And I knew. Heed not Calypso's hypnotic hips and waspy midriff, those painted lips, that coquettish paisley smile, her saccharine song. I knew it was a trap. (Source: "Calypso", 40x41: Midlife Crisis Postponed) A ...
Fading
There will be days For telemark turns, Nordic kick glides, And windsurfing jibes... But, the doc says, When stuck at your desk, Clench and unclench Your stomach and butt. Drink lots of water. It’ll make you pee. For to pee, you see, Will make you move. (Source: "Fountain of Fading Youth", 40x41: Midlife Crisis Postponed) First, third and fourth stanzas of a lighthearted ...
Laugh Wrinkle
“It’s a crack,” she says. “Not a wrinkle.” “Or both,” I say, gently moving her hand From my face. “Wrinkles are like cracks.” “But how could you crack your face?” “Laughing,” I say. “And smiling.” (Source: "Cracked", 40x41: Midlife Crisis Postponed) This was an amusing, real life exchange with one of my nieces that is sandwiched roughly mid-poem. It might be the best part. Perhaps the bread and ...