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I was a timeless
speck of life long ago...
even as a newborn
I came from an ancient God
sent into the womb of marriage
which is also as old as time.
Thrust into a world
that has known
centuries of such
renewal of its
aging realms.
Perhaps I walked
this place before
in an other's flesh
living out a futile life
in some past plane...
only to be regurgitated
back into another chance.
I was a timeless
speck of life long ago
that line haunts me,
for I shall be old again,
and memories like scabs
await the picking.
Some are only scars now,
with nothing more to ooze,
fresh woundings are few
and far between as we age.
It's the old cuts, that we cherish,
the girl we never knew,
and of course the ones we did.
The childhood that was never long enough,
or far too troubling to even measure,.
The dreams that dissipated into reality,
and the reality that dissipated us.
But there are solutions to
the resolutions of life's passing.
Two fingers of Scotch tapes '
the gapes in one's soul,
a band-aid in a bottle,
Inspiration encourages respiration
it's beauty in poetic form
brings determination to go on.
Loneliness does hold a certain comfort
for one always has themselves to cling to
and be assured that they will not leave
until age and time divorces their soul.
Childhood is brief,
innocence cannot survive long
in a world full of the
treasures of adulthood.
But they come with a price,
they age us and leave us
wizened and wrinkled
from the stress of it all.
Women become a necessity,
irregardless of the
packaging after 50 or so,.
It's companionship or a lifeboat
set adrift on a vast sea of tears
marooned in an ocean of love
that wallows all around us.
I look for beautiful
eyes to get lost in,
the rest simply vanishes
under the friction of flesh...
I like to make their eyes
open wide and then
blissfully close
to the very idea of me,
before I even take my share.
There is pleasure in giving pleasure..
I will be old again
even after death
as part of the immortal
whose lineage spans
as far back as Neanderthal
and even earlier than that.
Do not fear growing old
but rather chase it deliciously
across the years that remain.
It is but a door
to something greater
where the bent and hobbled
find sanctuary
and perhaps new life
and the rewards of
becoming timeless.
I fear I ramble
but life is a gamble
some of us never
get to grow old,
what of them?
The two year old
who drowns in a lake,
the 15 year old who is
murdered by a
lustful demon of sin
in the flesh of a sick man.
There must be more
to the aging process
then just oblivion for them.
And yet their
stories are also old
the young have died
ten trillion times
in centuries past.
Are they simply cheated
when it comes to
the joys of living,
I think not.
And so I ponder this vicious
and yet beautiful cycle
without answers,
only questions,
as time erase my own time
and eventually knowledge
will come with my last gasp.
I will be old again,
and this all will be told again
like some favorite story
I cherished as a child.
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This poem was inspired by- Rawlus- a fellow Poet and his two poems:
"Weep The Catfish." and The Answers Are Unanswered."
