It's gotten real. I am pushing 70. Back five years ago I threw an age snit.
And I'm Sixty Five
So I looked within
and found the old emptiness
still snarling at me
and I took off out
the friggin door and met me
coming and going.
It just sucks being
this way but there it all is
with the big dark hole
calling to me to
fall in and shatter into
ten thousand pieces.
Maybe growing up
helps but then again maybe
not - hasn't helped yet.
December 15, 2010 5:10 AM
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The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.
Some years ago my poetry took on a mythic flavor and I became a character in my own poems, a mage, "the man of the Northern Wall". This apellation is not completely fictional. My middle name is Noordwal, a Dutch term for north wall, though in current Dutch it mainly means north bank as in riverbank. I was told that an ancestor, a Portugese Jew escaping the Inquisition, settled in a small Dutch town and took this name from where he settled, near the north wall of the town. I have thought for a long time that -wal meant wall, think my mother told me that. A linguist might say that my usage is no longer common, is an older usage, but then the Inquisition happened in Portugal a few centuries ago, right around the time the Moors lost control of the Iberian Peninsula and the Jews lost the modest protection given them by Islam. Now I write as this mage, my poetry persona.
Mechanical designer for industry, now retired, once a Bay Area Hippie, went undercover in 1972, I've been writing poetry for years.
Contact: 3topper45@gmail.com
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The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.