Old age is greedy, hungry
it eats, tears away one shred
of dignity after another.
Old age begins inside where
the demolition of cells, molecules
can’t be seen until it has its hold.
Old age appears as sags, creases
that travel across faces, then bodies
until not one appendage is left unscathed.
Old age reaches, grabs its prey
all the while, the victim denies it’s
existence, claims it’s a state of mind.
Old age extinguishes light from eyes,
sallows the hanging skin, covers
each inch like crepe paper, wet.
Old age is a black beast, feral
that can only be conquered by
discovering the gifts it conceals.
Judy E. Roney
8 comments:
You have defiitely captured a certain kind of old age. I think we all hope to escape the kind you wrote of in this poem. At least I do.
Still thinking about the last stanza...hoping to discoer the gifts it conceals. LOL.
Old age is a time of gracefulness. Old age is a time of wisdom, old age is a time of reflection, old age is a time of relaxation after the race, old age is a time of new horizons with all the above. Old age is not the enemy, its how you look at it. One of my heros was Pope John 23 who was a beautiful example of celebrating old age. Sorry, guess you can tell I am not in love with this poem.
Old age is gracefulness, old age is wisdom, old age is relaxation after the race, old age is new horizons with all of the above. Old age is debts having been paid, old age is that quiet resolve. Old age is for enjoying with all these tools you have acquired. Celebrate, celebrate, dance to the music. :)
Oh my gosh Judy! How did I miss this one before. Although I like Bill's more gentle take on aging, I have to say I sometimes feel right there with it being the dark beast you describe. I think this is really dynamite poem.
Judy, you totally hit the nail right on the head with this poem.
Aging is cruel,heartless and indeed- Greedy! - i so often comtemplate just how much.. and i've only just begun.
it seems that it's much harsher for us women that it is to men. A man can grow old gracefully as the older they get, they often become more attractive. Their white hair screams out "I'm 'distinguished'!" while our white hair says "that's right, I'm 'old' ".
men's flab is so candidly referred to as "love handles" while the flab over our pants is noted as being "saddle-bags". the unfair comparisons go on and on.
you put it quite nicely, Judy for aging is truly greedy and then some. As a matter of fact it's a down-right bi-atch.
I enjoyed reading your poem in reference to old age. I hope that I can be visible on this earth to see old age one day. Thanks again for this wonderful poem.
Much success!!
Donielle S.
I am so greatly missing poems in your blog here, Judy. I hope next time I visit I will find some. I keep checking.
I agree that as women we see aging in a way men often do not, but my husband who had always been strong, good golfer, handsome and charming, found getting old a tough journey. He often brooded on his inabilities as his lack of strength gradually stole his love of playing golf. Aging greedily stole his love of life, and cancer took his life.
Post a Comment