What little pot belly? Me? Are you kidding?!?! [Suck in gut. Turn sideways. Gaze confidently into mirror.] Nope. No little pot belly. Nothing. Not me! I'm trim. Fit. Svelte. Looking better than my thirties. Little pot belly... whatever! Billy Crystal's Midlife Crunch So you're feeling optimistic. You're advancing on your midlife quest for greater creativity and curiosity (and a healthier, ...
Midlife reality
Midlife: Fumbling Forward
"I saw how a man who, unexpectedly, in midlife, had been dumped for someone else, might struggle to keep up his old sense of self, his old optimism. How he might take on an Indiana Jones look, indicative of hopes of adventure, while being careful not to get into anything new that might result in further pain. I saw the polite charm, the detachment, the silk shirt and the expensive restaurant ...
Midlife Impetus
Mid-life crises do not always lead to inappropriate or risky behaviors. For some, it is a time to learn new things, break some bad habits, or broaden their horizons. It can be the impetus to lose weight, start exercising, or finally take those piano lessons you have been talking about doing for years on end. ~ Len Kay (Source: Surviving the Midlife Crisis | Age Smart) Are you curious about a ...
Embrace Age
"It it pointless to fight or to flee from anything. It is also futile to run after anything." ~ Master Taisen Deshimaru ...
Speed
Foot off the gas, Feather the brake, Rock in my gut. (Source: "Speed Trap I", 40x41: Midlife Crisis Postponed) This comes early in a three-part poem called "Speed Traps". Driving too fast. Again. Pardoned. Thank you, officer! This poem cycle is actually about driving a car, not a motorcycle. It's been many moons since I rode motorcycles. But I still dream, daydream, relive roads/rides. Update: ...
Paris by Night
Perhaps we all live in darkness, drawn to the flicker of light emanating from a fading affair, vagrants bumping clumsily, intentionally, hungrily in a Paris night. (Source: "Paris by Night", 40x41: Midlife Crisis Postponed) Some poems are conceived of tenderness. Others erupt violently, gasping for air. This turgid fragment from a prose poem called "Paris by Night" is neither tender nor ...