——


7:05 AM Sun Aug 14 2022

this com-plaint again?

a FPOTD^ comes on like a summer cold,
fast, annoying and unexpected in mid-August, requiring
instant attention, dueling satisfaction, immediate ****** completion.

‘tis no secret to those who love me (why else would
you be so foolish to read this scribble), that I am a sadly ****,
fading desirable, somewhat literate, old man of advancing years.

(here my conscience inserts fiddling doddering old fool,
but a successful old men
Senatorial filibuster denies passage of this clause)

I confess my symptoms, without shame, but with deep anger,
that I’ve failed myself, permitted the slow decay to gain secure
footholds in the Black Mountains of my body.

my hands do no tremble, yet, my gait is not a oldster shuffle, yet,
with a squint, can still read some fine print, even find the balance
resources for a near-daily moderate paced, 4 mile walkabout.

what then do you fail to grasp?

Exactly. Every gesture, every step, touching, task-moderate is a calculus of deliberate exactitude, so refined, an-ever-so, careful
UNhurried grasping of my fave 19oz. Macintosh mug.

deep seated aches in extremities, bending requires malice aforethought, long drives requires reassembly to remove me from
the driver’s seat, don’t ask about recovery from trunk unloading!

the day begins. shall not catalogue the many mini-acts that will
be performed, combining balance and fine minute movements,
there will be grumbling aplenty, screams of Joy & Pain,

for such is life when you’re are in the finale act!

Bluntly, then, recap,
the gangrene is deep in the places where there is
no recovery possible, no forgiveness available, and the stench
of aging, the old man stink is musk-masked, but unmistakable
and I grasp each arriving second with alacrity, care.

<>

“And Mr. H. will demonstrate
Ten summer sets he'll undertake on solid ground
Having been some days in preparation
A splendid time is guaranteed for all.”^^

8:17 AM
Shelter Island



^ First Poem of the Day

^^ “For the Benefit of Mr. Kite” by John Lennon and Paul McCartney

It all seems to fade
It creeps along fading into
shades of grey
you fill the linger of it's haunting memory
as you grasp so tightly
it can't be kept in your grasp
you can only have it's joy
as it happens to exist
Sadly you don't know it only
will be for a short time
so as you feel the sadness
you mind wanders to the
truth
it's only gonna fade into a grey memory
you can't control it's time
or change it's ending
it will slowly fade away
Leaving you lost in a sadness
wishing it could have lasted longer
outta your control
it's just how it happens to be
So say goodbye
and let it fade
into a distant memory
© Jennifer L DeLong 🦏

The patterned colour(s) it leaves behind is magic
You'll read and may get nothing to grasp
Instead, you'll see then come to learn what's penned

I shake time's grasp with firm shrug
Before I know it
Again feel its tug
Then spit in its face
It spits right back
Taking position on top of my back
I guess we are stuck together for good
Stays longer than I wish it would

Every step I take towards living,
I'm stepping away from my calling
I'm stepping everywhere
end up getting nowhere
in search of stepping stones,
to move up the ladder
without grasping the idea
that these stones,
in due time,
will be steps I climb
up the downstair.

I'm losing my last grasp
on what we come to know
as a reality for so many years
and with that, I let go and fall,
fall to all the unknown, a void
to a road not paved, a future
full of unknown and I can't
help but smile at the ideas
of endless possibilities.

Teach me
Something
That
I have not
Learned

Well
Let me
Explain rightly
What
You have already
Learned

There goes my hope
Slipping out of my fingers
And into your grasp

Your grasp around my neck
Unable to breathe from your lies
You knew how to make me feel warm
But other times so cold

Maybe its my fault I thought you could change
But hey, I guess we all struggle
To breathe more than others some days