Old man, old man

old man old man
    where do you go
over t'hill my dear
    to be laid low

old man old man
    how long i wonder
six feet my dear
    and ditto under

old man old man
    i wonder why
reasons like seasons
    come and go by

old man old man
    shall i be told
too soon you'll be wiser
    oh you too shall grow old


 aug mmxiv while laid up with sore hip

To Remind you when Beauty

To remind you when beauty
    lies dead in the grass
her cheer we can cherish
    now she is done
for alas with the season
    whose pleasures have flown
our eyes tracking backwards
    we find beauty less

But off with such sorrow
    for seasons will turn
and pleasures renewed
    though breast sorely torn
feels dolour at hand
    with sun sinking low
we must gather the shadows
    and lay them to rest

Distress is not gain
    the sun’s running on
and bears us all forward
    despite pain and grief
hope is a promise
    that’s best left to time
while beauty’s reborn
    in the rime and the mist

mmiv

Erebos

No i don’t feel like accosting the tide
nor do i palpably access in words
how i feel
           upset
distress
no bliss to bless an unquiet mind
disposition at rest

       tides lap beaches and recede
to found more beaches
greater reaches of impermanency
and sea-wrack
of which i am one specimen
exhausted
from breasting the tide

           unfit . . .
no matter
let sit

mmvi

In the mean time

In the mean time
    digging the too-little lean time
squandering misgivings
    between breakfast     bed and     berth in earth
let me be chaste of temper
    sic fidelis senex
scornful sufficiency of latin text
    let gone-bys be bygones
death being what it is or ain't
    absence entire
i pronounce a propós demi-urge
    half of providence
ever with property upright in mind and stature
    in midst of baleful indignities
may i relinquish this state of blessed quiet and unrest
    consummate resignation
before consigned to follow those gone before
    sinking irretrievably     bar memory
to deteriorate as any flower or bug or rainsquall
    cycling through this grace
devoid of warrant     majestic as birth
    rumination no travail
dispensing with great question
    what    who    how     bye and bye
laughable    if we could laugh or cry

mmvii