Tag Archives: aging

A Middle Aged Monday

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Everyone tells you to
grow up
but they don’t tell you that
you just grow old
And no one seems to mention
That the pound age doesn’t come
prepackaged with sage wisdom
It isn’t just as if you
get better without trying
as you go

So hold on to those tendrils of
youthful vision
and never forget that
in heart
you’ll always walk
alone

__________________________________

Well, another Monday and another little musing here from me. This one was inspired by a passing of another birthday and I thought I’d just send it on and out to you. Started as a scrap and add a little bit onto the end but, for now, this is how it goes.

As always: here’s to hoping your day flies right on by and that you’ve got something cold and on the rocks waiting for you when you get home tonight.

Make Monday A Little Easier – Procrastitorian Pintrest Board

Monday Mullings – Procrastitorian’s Previous Poems & Odes to Monday Disdain

Pursuit of Happiness

Lion Statue in London

Pursuit of Happiness

Envious of immortality
I stalk solemnly, a chided
lion waltzing through scenes
that seem steeped in a
forever that never dares
to stray far from the line.


Cookie cutter cultural
norms reveal familiar
scenes of caffeine corrupted
teens sipping on their truth
from magazines while
blind adolescence dreams
of something far greater
than what is in store.


Denied grace of ignorance
and its bliss, too old and
jaded for innocence, I still
prowl through the scenery,
saving these scenic routes for
days when I am particularly
in need of moral support.

___________________________________________________________

This is just one of those poems that happened when the lines fell together. Sort of a thought of looking back on youth and life, and then thinking about moving forwards in it.

Lost Boys

Lost Boys

Lost Boys

Occasionally, we forget that we’re awesome
incidentally, we tend to grow up,
disillusioned, we spill our marbles,
distracted, we forget to pick them up.

Distantly, we feel a tugging,
inherently, we turn away
secretly, we know the meaning
softly, we hear it say:

It’s time to fly.

_______________________________________

Thanks to dlfletcher for the awesome image!  I’m a huge fan of Hook, and this is the first of two poems, the second of which will be tilted the most awesome word to ever exist. Be sure to keep a look out for Bangarang coming soon!

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