Retired from the University of Texas and too old to play soccer anymore. Now, in the twilight of his years, time is spent writing in this blog, hiking and exploring Texas Parks, photography, working out, gardening and tending to the five ponds he built .
I sat here staring at a blank page
words would not come it seemed for an age
and when they did they did not make sense
nor would they rhyme under any pretense
for writing a poem requires some thought
and must be something the mind has sought
rarely do words just fall into place
instead require thinking at a steady pace
a little change here and a tweak over there
in order to write something I’m willing to share
for it has to be right and has to rhyme
otherwise I feel like I’m wasting my time
and to post something bad only makes it worse
as I am not satisfied with writing bad verse
instead I will give up writing for today
and go out in the yard and the garden to play
and hope that the next time I try
the words will flow freely and we end on a high.
What can I say that will change your mind
as you look at me for one last time
with that long and lingering stare
showing me that you do not care
as other things you need to be
and other places you want to see
and the time we spent has now gone
and you are in fact, moving on
to pastures green with everything new
what that means I haven’t a clue
as I believed with all of my might
that what we had was pure delight
and in each other’s company shared
many moments with none compared
and the love we had would always last
how was I to know it has now passed
as bit by bit it drained away
never to return until this day
when you say to me that we are through
and even though I hadn’t a clue
that in fact you didn’t care
even though my bed you shared
that it was so hard to see
that you no longer cared for me.
I should have written this years ago
twenty five years and I should know
that the day my world came crashing down
as those fateful words did sound
and you walked out of the door
not listening as I implored
for you to stay we can work it out
just give me a chance I have no doubt
that we can be a couple again
instead of you wanting just to be friends
but alas it was not to be
as I remained in my misery
not wanting to live and at the same time
nothing can ever be that sublime
I had my chance and blew it too
an ignorant male who had no clue
that the love of his life no longer cared
and the life that he knew they no longer shared
and as time passed as the years slipped by
never again did I feel the joy
of marriage for love no longer came
and a bachelor’s life it did remain
and now so old so withered and grey
love has passed like the end of the day
and all that remains are the memories true
of the love of his life when things were new.
I stuck my head outside the door
confirming what I knew before
that the temperature was already high
more than I wanted to give it a try
although not yet peaked, it was morning still
the afternoon would be in for the kill
and the thermometer could go high
maybe all the way to one hundred and five.
Today’s heat might well be
the hottest day that we will see
although a lot of Summer remains
fifty five more days the Calendar claims
as Autumn starts September 22nd
when it comes it will feel like heaven
compared to what is outside my door
although we have been here many times before.
I would like to go on another hike
so that I have something to write
but I do not want to brave the heat
and inside the house will be a treat
I can sit and write to my heart’s content
bad poetry as my thoughts relent
as words spill out in a jumbled mess
putting my brain to the test.
Somedays the words really flow
and on one of those days is when I know
that the words that I write will sound fine
and the poem will reach it’s end in rhyme
for it is not easy to write good verse
especially when it is at it’s worst
and the only reason to try to write
is the temperature outside is so bloody high.
I turned on my computer and brought up my blog site with a fresh clean page all ready for me to peck away with many words of wisdom.
I stared and stared and nothing came to mind, just a blank screen looking back at me.
I thought of all of the subjects that I have written about in the past and that still didn’t help.
Maybe a poem, I thought but I could not think of what to rhyme about so I gave up on that idea.
I have spent this past week working on the Austin Pond Society web site. Now, it is finished and I can’t think of anything else to do to it for a while.
Night has fallen and it is dark outside so I can’t work on the ponds or go for a hike.
It would appear that my mind is a blank and needs firing up a little.
To hell with writing, I am going to watch the English Premier League and my favorite soccer teams…
I sat staring out of the window
but not really seeing
my mind was a thousand miles away
in some far off distant universe
a thousand thoughts going through my mind
but not concentrating on any of them
it was a though my mind was in re-wind
with countless times and places
and people, many people with faces
all staring back at me.
Were they ghosts of my past
come back to haunt me
or fond memories of times long gone
in younger years
or are they memories of pleasant times
when youth was taken for granted
and we would never grow old.
My dog jumped onto my lap
shaking me out of this reverie
bringing me back to the present
and as I look out the window
I can no longer see the myriad of faces
of people from long ago.
Instead I see lush green foliage
sadly in need of trimming
waiting for Mother Nature
to inflict her frozen sword
and I see rain, not heavy but still rain
under the cloudy skies of a December day.
I read a blog from a friend who cares
one I have known for many years
in it she talks of her life
and the twists and turns and many strife’s
of failing health and the fight back
to bring herself on the right track
to where she can enjoy what is left
knowing she has given her best.
Like me she finds solace in her mind
the written word and thoughts from within
as she talks about the stress and strain
of how the body is not so strong
but puts up a fight with the will to live
and the spirit fights on brave and longs
to send the word both far and near
to all of those that she holds so dear.
Two different kinds of people are we
as I write about my stupidity
and forgetfulness always an excuse
and if under the weather I feel
no others need to know that fact
so instead talk about the beautiful day
with the birds and animals all out to play
and lots of pictures to light the way.
She has her readers as I have mine
both are probably of a different kind
as we both work and scribble away
trying to send a message each day
of the things we believe and about what we write
both trying to stir up some strife
as the written word we both send forth
our choice of words from a different source.
What do we have in common you say
as we do our writing in a different way
she is the artist, the singer, the muse
and writes about dreams and sweetness and life
while I am straightforward and more down to earth
and write about nature and things I can see
no make-belief or dreams of pie in the sky
no romance or endings happy or sad
just words as I see them no love left in me.
When we are gone to that other place
what will our friends on our tombstones write
that we both believed in the written word
hers so sweet and gentle and kind
writing with care to those left behind
while he likely more remembered will be
for reporting more than artistry
as it takes skill to pen the words into rhymes
and requires a much more active mind
to write the words and still be kind.
Stories about family, faith, friends and funnies. Pull up a chair. Grab a cup of coffee and laugh, cry, ponder and inspire about ordinary events of this wonderful, ever changing, bubbling pot that we call "every day life".