Tag Archives: Aging

life, death & rollick

maybe we can all be pretty
& live our lives in sumptuous sin
the world’s troubles all so petty
ain’t worth a wrinkle on our smooth skin

futility is the language of
those who damn themselves
let’s make sprees & merry whoopees
over the slough of despond

& even when old age outruns us
ageless wonder inside shall bloom
we’ll indulge in all the fun and fuss
ignore that tired-from-waiting tomb

futility is the language of
those who damn themselves
let’s make sprees & merry whoopees
over the slough of despond

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // A Few Lines On Completing Forty-Seven. by Thomas Hood

When I reflect with serious sense,
While years and years run on,
How soon I may be summoned hence –
There’s cook a-calling John.

Our lives are built so frail and poor,
On sand and not on rocks,
We’re hourly standing at Death’s door –
There’s some one double knocks.

All human days have settled terms,
Our fates we cannot force;
This flesh of mine will feed the worms –
They’re come to lunch of course!

And when my body’s turned to clay,
And dear friends hear my knell,
Oh let them give a sigh and say –
I hear the upstairs bell!

by THOMAS HOOD (1799-1845)
Public Domain Poetry

mortality

stare down time’s barrel
breathless pause, the hammer click
bang! fornevermore

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2023

PERFECTION IN ACTION // The Omeletted Life

There’s no such thing as the perfect birth when an egg gets cracked in the process.

On the other hand, how to get born without some generous slaps to one’s silky-smooth bottom? Gotta spill some precious yellow soul to learn that life won’t be easy—best to get acclimated to that fact right away.

The cracks over one’s shell become like wrinkles on a face over time. They’re signs of wisdom and emotional endurance. Some fragility is to be expected.

And it affords all the King’s horses and all the King’s men a reason to buy shiny new glue guns!

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2022

GUEST POST // The Long Term by Mark Renney

The world is broken; in all the ways we predicted it would be. It cannot be repaired; it is far too late for that now. But at least you can take a break, as long as you have the funds of course. You can check into one of the Long Term Hotels. These are easily distinguished from the others with their high fences and the twenty-four hour security guards patrolling the perimeter.

When I was a kid, I used to think that they were homes for the elderly. Whenever I spotted the residents out on their balconies or lounging in the gardens, to my young eyes they did appear to be old and decrepit. When I learned the truth, that these people were the wealthiest in our society, the monied elite, I was appalled. It seemed obscene to me that they were living amidst us in the lap of luxury, flaunting their success and good fortune in our very faces from behind the high fences with the armed guards protecting them from the rabble outside.

Now I am the one on the other side of the fence, gazing out. I am the old man on the balcony and I remember my younger self and how slowly I came to realise that most people didn’t share in my outrage and were much more accepting of the hotels. They argued that they were ‘good for the City’ and created jobs, not just for the construction industry but also the hotel staff and the security details. And businesses and local shops benefited and flourished, all because of the Long Term Hotels.

I ranted and raged and they stared back at me, incredulous.

‘Why is it so wrong?’ they asked. ‘If they can afford it, why shouldn’t they check in? Who wouldn’t? Wouldn’t you? Isn’t it what we all want, isn’t it the dream? To be comfortable and to be safe?’

I remember how I answered, what I said and I believed it way back then. And I still do.

by MARK RENNEY
© All rights reserved 2022