General Poetry posted July 31, 2014


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An exploration of change in later years

Where To Now?

by mfowler

(Free Verse)
Leaving


the children watch
stifle a giggle
too kind to say it
not while the entertainment lasts
 
'sir
you're snoring'
says
the chosen tormentor
'waited five minutes sir
didn't want to wake you
till you'd solved the equation'
the stiflers giggle
my numbers up
 
tea and biscuits
silly hats and sanguine speeches
certificate offered
'CONGRATULATIONS ON A LIFE IN THE SERVICE OF EDUCATION'
well meaning token in Book Antiqua rendered on WORD
no quill, no ink, no papyrus for the old guy
 
the desk's yawning
empty of
knick-knacks
confiscated trophies
of encounters with silly boys
naff notes
excuses for homework avoidance ploys
and
small offerings
cards from children I forget
thank me for inspiring them
believing in their gifts
 
the schoolyard's empty
farewells done
career over
 
a stray  football rolls aimlessly about the asphalt
in the late afternoon breeze

(Haibun)
Retirement
hero's hat hung high
on rack among the mothballs
adventure over
 
'Sweetie, I wish you would find something to do,' says my wife benignly. I've been buried for barely three months since they pensioned me off. There's no preparation, no marking, no meetings, no phone calls, no annoying parents to remind me what I do. That's because I don't do it anymore. And I'm not me anymore. I thought that I needed to stop; you know, done my bit. But, no-one told me about the grief, the hollow place where you rest inside your inert mind swathed in memories of a clear purpose.
'Sweetie, they could use your experience at the church. You know, organising stuff and helping weed the gardens.' She's probably right. I need to organise stuff and weed gardens. Find something that will deaden the pain; fill the void; help me know what comes next.
I now have time to research my family history, read the classics, listen to Beethoven, create a veggie garden, colour -code my medicine cabinet, attend the funerals of my ageing friends. Yes, retirement has possibilities.
 
looking on
possibilities abound
poetry pottery

(Sonnet)
Ageing

Upon the cusp of ageing I am musing:
The golden years; this euphemism sad;
that gilding of the lily I'm not choosing;
my golden future's freaking me a tad.
 
The aches and pains, the hirsute, shaggy brows;
The lines emerging on skin undeserving.
Energy dissipating - daily drowse.
The rusting years: are what I am observing.
 
But, spritely golfers teeing off in plaids
and couples' love in geriatric glow,
belie the hell portrayed in rest-home ads
Seems ageing's fun before the final show.
 
So to this cusp of ageing I am clinging;
anxious not, to hear the fat lady's singing.

 


Multiple Form Madness contest entry

Recognized


Poem 1: Leaving - free verse
Free verse is an open form (see Poetry analysis) of poetry. It does not use consistent meter patterns, rhyme, or any other musical pattern. It thus tends to follow the rhythm of natural speech.

2. Retirement - Haibun
Haibun is a combination of prose and haiku poetry. The one or more haiku that accompany haibun prose are of two types. The first summarizes the feel of the prose, but without repeating words or phrases or images already contained in the prose. The haiku may be a juxtaposition�?�¢??seemingly different yet connected.
3. Ageing - Sonnet
A sonnet is atraditional form of rhyming verse following a specific format.
First quatrain: An exposition of the main theme and main metaphor.
Second quatrain: Theme and metaphor extended or complicated; often, some imaginative example is given.
Third quatrain: Peripeteia (a twist or conflict), often introduced by a "but" (very often leading off the ninth line).
Couplet: Summarizes and leaves the reader with a new, concluding image.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.


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