Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Man in the mirror

Not Yet

Blue-eyed Old Soul
Dabbling at life
With tattered brush
And shit-stained palette
Smelling of excess
More than success
As he staggers on
A Pentagenarian now
Looking in the mirror
Not seeing life abundant
Wondering if he has
Fiddled his best away
Knowing not what the rest
Of his days may hold
Feeling old, leaden
But not dead...not yet

Image courtesy of:
Thanks for the inspiration, E


Kat Mortensen said...

Ooh, not a self-portrait, I hope. Great poem though. Shit-stained pulled me up short.

Sandra Leigh said...

I like this poem. Leaden, but not dead. I can identify with that -- some days more than others.

ellen abbott said...

the days ahead, different perhaps but still glorious.

The Bug said...

Well based on your recent fabulous poetry I'm pretty sure that the days ahead will be dark & beautiful... Which seems an appropriate mood in which to write your book, don't you think?

Tess Kincaid said...

I know these sentiments well...beautifully expressed my friend...

NCmountainwoman said...

Every now and then that is just how I feel when I look into the mirror. Old and leaden but not dead...emphasis on "but not dead...not yet." I do love your way with words. Where can I pre-order your book?

Karen said...

Not dead; not yet, but always running from his hot breath. This, I understand.