Fellowship of the Ring

Ronald as a Dame

Bitter old wrinkled woman, scrutinizes… everything
Sits and stares into space, barely wondering, barely noticing,
Anything that does not coincide with her long memory,
Failing eyesight, or loss of hearing,
Lovely lady, walks with a cane
How young is she?
Possibly ninety-eight? Two lifetimes ago, is there anything
She hasn’t seen, she has slowly been accustom to change
Well accustomed, maybe over presuming,
One needs to unlock her ancient secrets,
Bitter mind, tight as a safe,
Who once might she have been?
No longer willing to touch anything,
Dying for human touch, wasting away

I have an old friend Richard
I see signs of rigidity set in
It’s not Rigor mortis,
But unwillingness to accept more change
He served in a war, lived two long lives,
Lived with the Eskimos,
Pedaling his a racing machine
Through wind and rain, raised two
Kids, when his first wife abandoned him,
Is done with reality, says the world today
Is insane, can no longer make senses of anything
No, it’s not Alzheimers, it’s long range resistance to change
To see the world he worked so hard to create, suddenly falling apart
Beginning to go down the drain, must be heart wrenching.
Refusal to take part in anything, and this could be him,
Sitting alone, ignoring the world, needing a friend yet not willing
And this could be him, aside from the obvious gender status
Looking at the world through old colored glasses, trying to forget everything
Trying to remember who and where he is, after going millions of miles,
Who cares if his only daughter associates as gay.
Who cares if we’re male or female at the end of our day?
We all identify as old, each in our own way,
So, let’s go 2+LGBTQ and sometimes Old, decrepit and old,
Those who society discards and throws away,
Once we reach that certain old age,
Unless we make centenarian
The we begin again
Like ancient peoples from a dying race,
Just hang up your shingle
“Gone fishing” ~psp


Ancient Battles

Send old men to war with their wrinklies and their warts!
With their bulging veins on those skinny legs,
With their bulging knees, and if enough
Of us stand up against the enemy,
We probably outnumber them about one to three.
Three of us and one of them.
The only way they’ll succeed is over our dead bodies
But Canada’s a vast country
The only way we can defend this expansive property,
The second longest border in the world,
Is by building a wall of China
Or a Mexican fence,
So how about we use our numbers,
To just make peace with our neighbors
Like Moses and Jesus told us.
Love thy enemy, love thy neighbor as thyself
This animosity has been going on since eternity
Survival of the fittest ape and humanity ~psp

dr. π (pi)
.

Spring plant sale
The beginning of spring
Varieties of leaves wave on
O, me, what will happen to me?
Sea of leafy green from wall to wall,
Garden growers call, and lost mariners stall,
Looking for land on which to refuge from it all
I quickly find the magazines, to help make sense,
Of this, “Look it up on your phone, if you don’t know
What plant it be,” comes the green thumb advice to me,
I don’t use cellphones, I defiantly said; It may have fallen
On deaf ears, Oh, well. I prefer natural communication
“Everything 50 % off!” shout the market shipmates,
And garden hoes marching about this makeshift
Vessel. “Early comers pay full prices, but
Latecomers pay half!” for the dregs
(That’s good, I guess…)
I find a pile of magazines to cling to
Digging through the colorful pics,
For my art, of tangled gardens
I consider them works of art
And the hands that made them, impressionist art
Androgynous green swims through my head
Once there was a Garden in a Cosmic Sea,
Now they sell flowers to plant in the trees
“One dollar each, but they’re now 50 cents”
Do you take credit? – “Sorry, cash only.”
Comes the answer – Well then,
It looks like it’s not my lucky day!
A space in time where two worlds meet.
I leave empty handed but filled with
Inspiration and remorse
A mental picture
Of what lies ahead
Have a wonderful summer
May your gardens all flourish! ~psp

dr. π (pi)
.