Tag Archives: age

Looking Back

Looking back over rounded shoulders,

At friends who’ve long passed;

He can see them like yesterday,

So much like him today.

“Maybe I don’t want to go forward alone”, he thought,

His blanket of bronze and gold

Offering little warmth to his heart grown cold.

His parched lips quiver under mossy beard,

Longing for a sip of cool mountain water.

What lies ahead scares him

Standing at rivers edge.

In his youth no apprehension would he have shown,

His fearlessness bringing out the best in him,

But no longer is he fearless, no longer is he emulous.

Instead he is resigned to spend his life’s remainder…

Waving goodbye to what was

And what might have been.

 .

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

(Words at the Weekend – 17-18 August 2013 prompts)

http://boipoet.wordpress.com/2013/08/17/words-at-the-weekend-17-18-august-2013/

Sentimentality And Longing

Sentimentality and longing–drowning

In a sea of what was.

Knowing that one can never go back

To childhood,

To before grandma died,

Before the loss of grandpa,

Before any of the idiotic decisions we make

During the folly of our youth and beyond.

The impossibility of this is obvious;

Time only marches forward,

Steady and resolute in its determination.

Leaving us, if we choose to stay,

in the dust and cobwebs of our past.

One must ask, “To what end?”

To be passed…

By opportunities for love,

The love of family,

All the good that life has to offer.

A life of misery,

A life of hoping for what was,

What can never be,

This is the fate of so many.

Living in sorrow, void of hope,

Void of happiness,

Drowning–in sentimentality and longing.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Outside

Outside–

You see a face,

Weathered, showing the wear of time,

Wrinkles carved like dry rivers

Affixing character to a once youthful landscape.

~

Soft skin hands, wipe the sweat from the brow,

Long since retired from hard work,

Thin and gnarled,

They are more bone than flesh,

Still their past loveliness remains.

~

Hunched, from the years

And back breaking work

It’s a struggle just to stand up,

Yet there is nary a complaint uttered

Thankful just to have lived.

~

“Come with me”, said in whispered tone,

Taking a frail trembling arm in compliance,

Photographs yellowed, faded show glorious youth,

Beauty, fifty years past gleams brightly in your eyes

Though the blue is less brilliant.

~

“This was me”, as if unrecognizable

Pointing with an arthritic finger

Leading to story upon story.

“You see a face…”, spoken with a smile,

“But I am so much more…”

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Time Nurtures Wisdom – A Tanka

Time nurtures wisdom

In the face of angry barbs

As youth yields to age

Imparting knowledge with years

In place of impulsiveness

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

White Noise

Waking to the rhythmic white noise

Television’s twinkling salt and pepper blur

Foil covered rabbit ears like periscopes

Reflect his fractured image…almost blinding

It hurts to sit up straight

Back hunched from decades of labor

Crumbs drop like snow from his cardigan

“What did I eat?”, he mumbles on deaf ears

As gnarled and twisted hands

Brush his remnants to the floor

Feed for roaches and rats that call this home

Day and time are of little concern

What does it matter.

Tormented knees crack

Perched unsteadily beneath him

All he can do is shuffle holding on for balance

The refrigerator fights back as he opens it

The dim light only blackens the mouldy fresco

Decorating the walls and shelves.

Spoiled milk curls the nose

“Been around awhile.” he whispered

Paying it no more mind

Warm beer will have to do

The crack of the tab and the “pusssssh”

Join the metronomic shuffle of his stocking feet

Moaning, he sits

Joints aching from medicine he can’t afford

Alcohol will have to do

Each sip provides little relief

Tired of living his eyes grow heavy

Sleep returns…to the rhythmic white noise

And the televisions salt and pepper blur

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Silly Boys and Girls

Silly boys, they laugh and they giggle,

Silly girls in their skirts they do wiggle.

The girls laugh and point at the giggling boys,

As they make funny noises playing with their toys.

The girls turn away when they see the boys gawk,

The boys chase the girls with the speed of a hawk.

The boys yell and taunt as the girls run away,

The girls round the schoolyard away from them they stay.

Huffing and puffing the boys give up chase,

The girls in their stocking feet ran away with the race.

The boys and the girls in playgrounds and yards,

Laughing and singing, life was not hard.

This innocence squandered to the aging of youth,

Maybe in children we adults can find our lost truth.

Wouldn’t this be such wonderful thing,

Removing from stress, it’s life zapping sting.

There’s much we can learn from our children at play,

Like how to have fun each and every day.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Getting Old

The creak of the door

Floorboards moan with every step

Like cracking of joints

Worn out from use over time

Only like new when replaced

~A Tanka ~

~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~

Passing Time

With each and every passing year,

I realize I know less than I knew before.

The truths I held at once so dear,

Have up and left and run for the door.

~~

Things they change seeming obscure,

Not so plain as they used to be.

So much I see I at once abhor,

Closing my eyes in hopes I won’t see.

~~

Music and film I have lived to watch change,

Profane and obscene for what reason unknown.

I would go back in time if time be rearranged,

Oh how I wish that time would not have flown.

~~

Maybe this is a sign of age on the march,

Passed from progenitor to progeny alas.

Opinions unheeded as they drift beneath the arch,

Change will not stop as I peer through the glass.

~~

My guess is that I’ll either learn to live or ignore,

As my parents and their parent have done.

The cycle won’t change of this I am sure,

I suppose time and youth, they have won.

 

~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~

Value of Time – A Tanka

Time, something finite

Taken for granted by all

‘Till late in one’s life

Then time is held as treasure

More precious than solid gold

~~D. R. DiFrancesco ~~

Fountain of Youth – A Tanka

A fountain of youth

An attempt to hold off age

Its only fools gold

Precious to the uninformed

Worthless when not conceited

~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~