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I feel I am getting older
Full of aches and pains
My body keeps on telling me
I will never be young again.

I used to be a drinker
I admit I drank too much
But now I'm reaching seventy
I hate the blooming stuff.

Now I am on the Doc spot
Every day I attend the gym
Although I feel I'm losing weight
I will never be nice and slim.

My wife and I walk our dog
We take him out each day
He chews and sniffs at everything
I won't tell you what I say.

Youth they say is a flame that burns
But I feel my flames gone out
Now if you were to see me
Well I'm nothing to shout about.

I wonder how my wife does cope
I'm beginning to repeat my words
And when I try to tell her things
She says I sound absurd.

So I guess I'll have to face the fact
There's no more climbing hills
For me its the downward spiral
So I'll carry on taking the pills.
 Jun 2019
Graff1980
Little operator,
She brought
all the lost
thoughts
and painful
pressure
back in
to my life.

Took me
from peaceful easy
to anxious
and *****
in seconds flat.

Made my mind muddled,
like an old man
severely befuddled
by modern devices,
the queen of my queer vices
seems to like it
when I struggle.

She knows I
would do anything
for the love she brings
and still my hornet queen
stings.

I guess it is a woman’s work
to repay the ages of hurt
my brethren have bestowed
upon her sexes’ fairer graces.
So, she brings tears
to my face
as she moves away,
fluttering fancies
that constantly change.

One minute
I’m in it.
Her heart
the treasure
that brings me pleasure
inches from my grasp

Then in my final gasps
I realize at last
she was just a
shimmering mirage,

a sweet lie
that got me through
these endless nights
to the end of my life.

Oh well.
 Jun 2019
Francie Lynch
He knows it is poison, yet indulges.
It's the one way he's learned to live through it.
And so stays dry. It's sobering.
For months and months and months,
It's a life he enjoys.
Then comes the itch, so the plan is engaged.
Leave and become a stranger,
A pub-fly in Ireland.
And when he returns, Day One is at hand.
The cleansing is on.
For three days he digs, buries himself
In the dark.
Wretching and heaving til bruised.
Step by step by step...
A red face lights the sink basin,
Water, not tears fill his eyes.
By eight tonight Day Two begins.
But that's still hours away.
Back to the sink.
When  Day Three dawns,
He rises and walks out.
Step by step by step...
 Jun 2019
Graff1980
He is the god of lust,
ten thousand hours
spent observing
the herding of the hurting,
blood spurting,
and still he seeks
to feed a deep need.

He is the professor
of pain
professing his name
begging the same
from some sweet
unknown dame.

He is a soul seeker,
deep truth speaker,
devourer and needer
of sensual things.

Whilst the horde
of ***** human beings
keep ******* rutting
like squalid pigs in a sty
he is searching
for the truth inside,
his inner light
sense of pride
so that someday
he will find
a parallel passion
on the otherside.

It is a hunger,
a lifetime of starvation
he has been facing
whilst racing towards
a brutal end.

Love will not mend
those wounds,
but it would be nice
to have a life
softened by
similar passions,
even if they are just
two boats passing
on a foggy night.
 Jun 2019
Graff1980
I linger in
hungry shadows
as the sun descends,

waiting for the end
of daylight
and for a
whole new world
to begin again.

Against all odds
I am making ends meet.
I am reasonably
happy,
but this daylight life
is not really my thing.

Some say the way
I stray from the sun rays
is a weakness,
but I did not seek this
evening loving disposition.

It is just that
the night
is a quiet and
generously
gentle and reflective
lover,

and though I may
someday love another,
for now, I long to smother
my anxiety,
and complexity
in the cool windy arms of
the brilliant
but bluish black
that always welcomes me back
after a harsh day’s journey.
 Jun 2019
CLARYT
A cook, peels, skins and scoops out the inside of fruit, veg and whatever else he can carve up.
I never thought I'd be sympathising with food, in order to describe my current state....


(C) eileenmcgreevy@ymail.com 2019
 Jun 2019
duck
i am seventeen
sitting in classics
seeing them hold hands. the girls.
they are proud.
open.
unrelenting.
hadrian eyes me, seeing i do not understand.
'cur invida es?'
i do not look at him.

                     odi et amo quare id faciam fortasse requiris
                            nescio sed fieri sentio et excrucior

he puts his hand on my shoulder
where it still remains.
latin:
cur invida es = why are you jealous?
odi et amo... = catullus 85
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