"geezers" poems
We used to play cards on Tuesday nights
in the small office of a used car lot.
I would look at the old beaters as they came in.
Wonder what their stories were.
Who drove them.
Where they had travelled and what they had seen.
“All rust and dust” my friend used to say.
As they age their value goes down.
Which is what some folks think about people.
But really, the opposite is true.
My friend would ask
why I played cards
with those old geezers.
He didn’t get it.
Many people don’t.
I just told him I always win.
It was true.
Not in terms of money.
But in everything else I got from those guys.
Stories
Wisdom
Laughs.
One old guy used to cheat like a *******
I let him get away with it.
I hope when I get old
somebody cuts me some slack.
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 5:47 PM UTC
**** serenely amid the surround-sound system and break the sound barrier and remember what *** appeal there may be in celibacy. As far as possible without surrender be located on voluptuous bafflegabs amongst squillions creatures. Jabber your clean breast ravishingly and revealingly; and bug to odds, even the dead from the neck up and half—baked; they too **** their mythical being. Lynch yobbish and Eurosceptic creatures, they are hot potatoes to the spunk. If you calibrate yourself with the aid of genetically modifieds you may become naff and disgusting; for always there will be juicier and grosser girls than yourself. Fuck your bear and ragged staffs as well as your carcasses. Acropolis caressed inside your cough up jackboot, however uncouth; *** appeal is a **** abracadabra at the sign of the channel—hopping weathercocks of porridge. Cock sadomasochist in your pigeon filths; for the big bang theory is chock—full of Piltdown man. Nevertheless let this not ********* you to what pith there is; thick celebrities have a crack at for foul—smelling specimens; and in all quarters ***** is oozing of exhaustion. Touch yourself. To cap it all **** not ape where the shoe pinches. Neither be cheeky about ****** ergo chez the ******* type of oodles menopause and double whammy schoolgirl complexion is as shrinkproof as the Antichrist. Treat like **** out of charity the tax collector of the yonks, buxomly jettisoning the seed of the vigorousness. Give **** enormousness of ***** to fluoridate you inside eye—opening extremity. But do not abuse yourself using crooked paintings. Noisy funks are impregnated of knock up and stiffness. Over the hills and far away a **** straitjacket, touch affectionate *** yourself. You are a brat of the swarms, no less than the crab apples and the diamond geezers; you have a right to breathe from end to end. And whether or no or not *** appeal is plain as a pikestaff to you, nay no grit the not peanuts is spreadeagling as the body beautiful should. Ergo be at titbit with Fetish whatever you inseminate him to be posted, and whatever your alpha—fetoprotein tests and farts inside the full—throated nymphomaniacs of ***** wigwam come—hither look using your ****** intercourse. With all *** appeal’s tattie bogle, slavery and mutilated musclemen, the body beautiful is still a tall, dark and handsome big bang theory. Stand pert. Die in the attempt to be boozed up.
Apr 3, 2010
Apr 3, 2010 at 3:32 PM UTC
“you should watch for what’s good and say so, watch for what’s bad and say that,
and be afraid of neither observation.
If you lose your temper, lose it; if you find yourself unexpectedly moved, admit it.
Keep your tools, compass and gyroscope,
clean, dry and level.”
Peggy Noonan,
columnist, author
<•>
good
Christmas Eve advice
getting harder to find,
wheat from chaff, and all that,
what’s sensible,
what’s defensible,
and what actually feels
A~ok!
as in
perhaps, it actually could be,
pause to think,
correct?
and:or:heck,
even right
so if you read the above ,
take it from a couple of senior geezers,
you just got a holiday freebie!
yeah, yeah, keep your powder dry,
just ain’t the same, sorry…
we talking tools and fools here,
them that keep you
on a course
of your owned free choice,
with an assist,
to know your position & to
never to lose your balance
when everybody is
instantly
telling you what to think,
take that long pause,
use your tools,
to pick the problem up,
Rubik’s cube it,
twist and shout,
when the
solution emerges
‘tis the season for
preaching and overreaching,
but use this quietime pause,
look internal,
and keep your instinct and
inside tools oiled,
and mind open, clarified
wish you then, clear eyes, open ears & love;
wisdom, that’s up to you,
but, you’re a billionaire for sure,
use the grey cells you were given
thoughtfully & well,
and keep on looking for
‘what’s a good way,’
which is always an
everlasting work
nat lipstadt
Dec 23, 2024
Dec 23, 2024 at 11:24 AM UTC
Powder, lip gloss and dilated pupils
Rolled up notes and cheap thrills
Somewhere near the beginning of the end
Your worst enemy is your best friend
It's alright, it's just a phase you're going through
In the urban sprawl it's what you've gotta do
because....
You're a crowd pleaser, out to please
begging for friends, on your knees
You're a crowd pleaser with the latest bent
pleasing friends that are just for rent
You're a crowd pleaser, a fresh appetite
with a heavy pocket that'll soon be light
...
Wake up, leave, while they laugh with you
Exit and pay yourself what you are due
Leave before your whole soul is sold
Start a new chapter before this one's old
As you leave the sparkle and the geezers
Enter stage right the fresh crowd pleasers.
...
They're a crowd pleasers, out to please
begging for friends, on their knees
They're a crowd pleasers with the latest bent
pleasing friends that are just for rent
Just crowd pleasers, they're up all night
Lines not solitude (their primary fright)
Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 9:51 AM UTC
she has taken a long term parking spot
in my heart
she is tye-dye in a three peice suit world
she is a grip of smiles in a stash box
that looks like a naked girl dancing in the rain
she leaves footprints everywhere cause she hates shoes
she has never owned a bra
and she will be glad to show you shes not wearing one
she just showed me...my oh my
shes carnival fun
and summer camp happy
she saved my life when I had a heart attack
and has a longterm parking spot in
this old geezers heart
she is a robust thinker
and a deep ocean of stars when she is romancing
she has a love in her for everyone
and such high hopes for the coming days
shes a grip of smiles
in a long term parking spot
is this old geezers hairy old
malfunctioning heart
*she bounces into my hospital room
and jumps up ontop of me
infront of four medical students
grind grind grind
woman is gonna make sure I go
with a smile on*
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 7:28 PM UTC
EDNA: Please sit down, William. How are you today?
WILLIAM: Fine thank you, Edna. How are you? I read that you were having trouble with your piles.
EDNA: Mind your own ******* business. I'm doing the interviewing here.
WILLIAM: Sorry, Edna.
EDNA: Right, now I hear you are a wife-swapper. How did that start?
WILLIAM: Well, Edna, after I had been married a few years, I got fed up with ******** the same **** and so I started wandering a bit. And my ******* wife found out and broke my leg with a sledge hammer.
EDNA: That must have hurt.
WILLIAM: Of course it ******* well hurt. Not only that, it made ******** impossible for months.
EDNA: [laughing sympathetically] And then?
WILLIAM: Well, once the leg mended, since I still fancied a bit of spare nookie, I suggested to my lady wife, we try some wife-swapping.
EDNA: How did she react to your mentioning swinging?
WILLIAM: Swinging? You mean life my wife's fat *******
EDNA: I'll ignore that. Get on with the story for Christ's sake. You'll bore my readers' **** off.
WILLIAM: As I was saying, she was quite keen on it. In fact she said 'As long as the geezers involved have a bigger **** than yours, I'm up for it'.
EDNA: Yes, I heard your **** was small, William.
WILLIAM: Anyway, we joined the Maidstone Wife-Swappers Club the next week and have been swapping ever since.
EDNA: Ever since? How long ago was that, then?
WILLIAM: About five years ago, Edna. The MWSC meets once a month, there's usually quite a few couples there and we go most times, especially if we've heard there's some new members, if you get my meaning.
EDNA: Members? Members? That's a good one. You should be on the stand-up circuit with material like that, William.
[Edna and William laugh gaily]
EDNA: Tell me, do you swap with only one couple at these swingers parties? Or do you mingle, so to speak? Roughly many couples have you swapped with, then?
WILLIAM: As a result of our participation in at the Maidstone Wife-Swappers meetings, I have shagged 84 women and Eileen, my dear wife, has been ****** by 245 men.
EDNA: You can go now.
WILLIAM: Pardon me?
EDNA: **** off.
[Interview terminated at this point.]
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 11:25 AM UTC
Rummaging noises that muscle into stark gravity
maiming
black & white finishes
into the hands of young artists
and everyday geezers
--drinking wine made for mad housewives.
We are seduced and strangled by this.
Spirits that knock seven times
on Hiroshima's soul that levitates through
planet Earth's oceans
--how can we not pull a ****
from our sweaty palms?
Gods, and doors, and chalk spittle
that gores the gorilla's back in the abyss
threatening hopeful snow--the lifting of applauding
violins. We are seduced and strangled by this.
Cultural amoeba--
the dimensional of minds
--made up of blank smoke
and film negatives.
And oh!
How the gasoline pours rainbows
on the pavement, fertilizing the crosswalks
where we danced...
seduced and strangled by this.
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 12:04 AM UTC
I'm Forty Three
Lines form on my forehead and neck,
lines form on my upper and lower deck.
I'm middle aged without a plan,
I'm thirty something, I'm an old man.
I'm forty three, no idea what I want,
going blind and needing bigger font.
Forty three, gotta get away,
I've been straight, I've been gay.
I've gotta get out of this place,
my parents want me out from the crawl space.
I've gotta thirty something brain
and an old geezers heart,
I blame the dog, whenever I ****
Took forty three years to get this far,
still listen to cassettes, when in my car.
Don't always know what I'm a saying,
Uncle Sam, I keep on paying,
not gonna tell ya, what I'm a weighing.
***** swing low from the left and the right,
silly kids always ask, Mister was there always light.
Every bone in my body cracks,
rolling in sand, I leave wrinkle tracks.
I'm in the middle age of my life,
I've been a boy, girl, husband and a wife.
I'm thirty something and an old geezer,
I listed to Elvis and also Weezer.
I'm forty three and I like it,
I travel around with a Depends kit.
Yes I like it, I love it, I like it, I love it,
I'm forty three, forty three, forty three,
and all this yelling made me ****
Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 11:16 AM UTC
Like a speed limit,
Age 55 is a reminder,
A geriatric mnemonic,
Telling you to take it slowly.
Safe to say,
Most of us Baby-Boom geezers
Walk around half the time
Wondering how one gets laid,
“Hooks up”—
As our grandchildren say--
Gets laid behind & inside this
Asylum sanctuary?
Manning the ramparts,
Those Wackenhut stiffs
Are there for a reason.
Overt, direct ****** overtures
Strictly verboten (ver•bo•ten).
Yet, the silver-haired sireens
Crave company,
As in “keeping company,”
An ancient idiom for
“Let’s Hide the Pepperoni!”
But you’ve got to take it slow at
Del Webb Over-55 America,
A multi-state lunatic asylum,
Where a preponderance of
Single silver-tress foxes,
Having “lost their husband,”
Somewhere, at some point,
Some recent but forgotten,
Alzheimer’s moment along the trail,
They comb the daily obits,
Hunting prey, newly widowed men,
Fresh casserole recipients &
Crypto-pepperoni buddies.
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 4:44 PM UTC
I sit to the left of a lonely man.
He is smiling wider then the ocean can stretch.
He is french.
Wrinkled.
Glowing.
We have come to the topsham fair.
Strange creatures pass and we gaze at them,
Talking about how funny or pretty or different they are.
We eat french fries.
He looks down.
"Your grandmother never ate skins on potatoes. She was old fashioned."
"You must of ate a ton of em then, huh?"
"Oh yeah, all kinds."
Two girls around 20 skip on by
Short denim dresses,
Bright red lipstick,
Candy apple shoes.
"Back in my day i'd be chasing those little girls all over the place. Now half the time they're chasing you!" I laugh
"Yeah, I have fun papa, not as much as you had though"
"I thought i'd find some old geezers like me but they aren't here."
"Well I'm sure they're around. let's go find some."
We get off the bench
walk a ways.
His cane clicking on the old tar.
We stopped to watch a young boy laugh on the pirate ship.
It swings him up high
He screams and giggles.
We smile up at him.
Watch his mother put hands to her mouth and heart attack.
We come across a bench with two grey haired men and an empty seat.
"Can I sit here?"
"Oh come on down!"
Papa, well,
He starts talking about the good old days.
"My wife passed away four months ago."
He talks to the grey haired men.
As they make conversation,
I realize, there's a reason us lonely men stick together.
We get it, Sometimes.
You just need to talk about the pain
like it's just something that happened.
If you keep saying it.
You can remember it.
You can be there for awhile.
Instead of here.
Instead of lonely.
Lonely men love stories.
We love hearing stories.
We love telling our stories.
If a lonely man tells you his story.
Listen.
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 2:45 PM UTC
Powder, lip gloss and dilated pupils
Rolled up notes and cheap thrills
Somewhere near the beginning of the end
Your worst enemy is your best friend
It's alright, it's just a phase you're going through
In the urban sprawl it's what you've gotta do
because....
You're a crowd pleaser, out to please
begging for friends, on your knees
You're a crowd pleaser with the latest bent
pleasing friends that are just for rent
You're a crowd pleaser, a fresh appetite
with a heavy pocket that'll soon be light
...
Wake up, leave, while they laugh with you
Exit and pay yourself what you are due
Leave before your whole soul is sold
Start a new chapter before this one's old
As you leave the sparkle and the geezers
Enter stage right the fresh crowd pleasers.
...
They're a crowd pleasers, out to please
begging for friends, on their knees
They're a crowd pleasers with the latest bent
pleasing friends that are just for rent
Just crowd pleasers, they're up all night
Lines not solitude (their primary fright)
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 10:49 AM UTC
As we get older we get much bolder,
not something like we used to
just throw over our shoulder.
We think about when we were young,
and how with the territory came dumb.
So strong, so agile, but we soon found
out that it only lasts awhile, that
physical peak is here and gone
leaving us with only a smile and we
wish that it had lasted more than
a song.
It seems things around us get better
as the the years pass us by, as we pay
more attention to each other. Gaining
wisdom and learning so much as things
just keep going by us faster and faster,
and if we don't keep up with the pace,
we seem to be losing the race and find
ourselves headed for disaster. We
learn what we didn't even know we
didn't know, and we have to know
what is really just for show.
Us old geezers find love comes
so much easier, even if you have been
in the deep freezer. We don't have
to spend so much time trying to
please her. We know if the others
love is true, the games are gone and
we just get strong realizing that we
might not be around very long.
Getting older,we take life more in
stride because we realize that we
are nearing the end of this crazy,
ride, and that it could all be over
in the blink of an eye. We soon
come to the realization that we
are all going to die, so we watch
those around us fade away, and
we wonder why we are still here,
and know that it might happen
any day leaving you with nothing
to say.
Every new sunrise that we are given
we realize is a blessing, and we don't
need to worry anymore how we
might be dressing.
Now we know that the best part of
our lives is now so we savor every
moment that we are given, because
the past is gone and tomorrow isn't
here yet and now is all we have , so
we touch like there might never be
a tomorrow and hope to avoid the
sorrow of what is happening as
we get older, we know our place and
what we have yet to face, and it sure
ain't no leather and lace.
So all I can say is what the hell,
lets rock and roll ! Jon York 2010
Nov 7, 2010
Nov 7, 2010 at 4:36 PM UTC
He went looking for Pace-Maker Mary
and found her with Dollar Jane.
Who’s to blame?
She said it was none of his business
She said she’ll see whom she pleases
She said she was tired of men
and especially tired of geezers.
She said she wanted a new life
one without the ******
It gave her the blues to be always in shoes that hurt her heels and sciatica.
That it was nice for a change to be the one with the game
the one who’s doing the chasing.
And if that don’t sit she don’t care a bit
now excuse me my Janey is waiting.
But he’ll wait forever for Pace-Maker Mary
however long it takes.
He’ll bide his time
until he finds
the thing that makes her tick.
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 11:58 AM UTC
I'm gonna wave my freak flag high
Right until the day I die
I'll be dancing in the nursing home
Probably clothed
And likely alone
But I'll be keeping to my groove
And get those old geezers to move
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 1:14 AM UTC
The elderly are fascinating
Some think they are boring
Some think they are embarrassing
I find them utterly enchanting
They are my safe haven
Their captivating stories
About the world before I existed
Entice me
I never want them to end
Some are funny
Like the funky clothing styles
Some are horribly tragic
Like big, long, ****** wars
That left these old geezers
With memories that they can
Never forget
It hurts me to know that these
Kind old men and woman
Could be traumatized like that
It makes me respect them more
It's nice to know that there is
More beyond those
Wire rimmed spectacles and
Warm, wrinkled smiles
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 5:39 PM UTC
I aged a small number of hours,
none the worse
since posting about Daylight Savings Time,
a radiant playful verse
teasingly succeeded against being terse,
a cogent tangential thread,
where passage of "time"
ranks front and center
this central theme constitutes cultish obsession
with vibrant youthfulness
as if senescence a crime imposed
(at birth) on every purse
son, thus a healthy and prominant grow wing
(nee bursting out all over)
market and cottage industries didst swing
into high gear (make that overdrive)
addressing telomeres shortcomings
justifies tamper ring
with chromosomal genes
to sustain bug eyed sales figures,
asper amazing grace full spy king
scales into the stratosphere,
with cosmetic surgeons *** ping
where, (particularly among
baby boomer generation)
appear younger looking than offspring
(albeit, whereat either gender undergoing
bust ting bosoms and tightening tushies)
to foster said tune, where billions of dollars
come into play, I haint joe king
this feeding frenzy removing without a trace
(of surgeon's needle) unsightly wrinkles,
stretch marks, blemishes, et cetera
(over a life time) fulfilling vanity
in the name of eternal quest to dupe biology
paying mega bucks postponing twilight/ evening
years not yielding to depredations when dotage
a stark reminder what natural aging doth bring
superficial (skin deep) transformations,
which cannot reboot major organs
allowing elderly to rock with van
halen again, since primary maximal apex
i.e. post adolescence/
early adulthood marked urban
boisterous antics, the tacitly accepted behavior,
that would appear down right foolish
as if elders played kick the can
if chronologically old geezers let Mother Nature
rightfully round up steering committee
gently rowing rickety ship of lovely bones
dutifully paying (chump change) to the bargeman.
Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 8:17 PM UTC
Look at the youth
Ever so uncouth
Yelling all the while
Look at the geezers
Asthmatic wheezers
Placing down restrictions
Our time is soon
Soon ends our noon
Teach the children our ways
Leave us be
So we may see
To find our own devices
I'd much rather
That you'd gather
And follow in our steps
Leave us alone
To find life's path on our own
Let us tend our own sails
We were never that dumb
We are not numb
In age and wisdom we improve
We will never be that dry
And yet with Time's sigh
The new are old
And repeat so bold
The words they sought to defy
Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 9:29 PM UTC
tired old ripped up rope,
shedding shredding,
interwoven from
worn~warnings, that
do not hint!
but volume speak,
of a lifetime well used,
the two ends, no longer straightforward,
now stretched, misshapen, countless uses,
left squiggly serpentine, from knots left tied
for~far too long, till they cannot be returned,
to a youthful vigor
them my lifelines;
that stretch from the Atlantic to Pacific
upon my new york hands, right & left,
end to nearing endings, do not hint at
stories untold, geezers, happy to reveal
their tiredness’s are denied a golden oldie
status, just a wind-ed wind-up doll winding
down, coiled-springs uncurling, decoiling…
tensions releasing…
this is the way of the poet,
the words no longer
streaming on demand,
they blip, scurry, a side dent,
glancing, like a windshield hit,
here and gone,
before a napkin secured,
a nearly dried out Bic
secured to scratch remnants
of a phrase spectacular,
end up crumpled, buried,
predeceased in a pocket of an-old fav, a Harris Tweed sport jacket, nurtured
over the years, the faint haze odor
stink of when he
smoked, a couple of
decades long ago…
he rambles,
like that rope end unraveling,
he is was a poet of the way,
for this the way of signing off,
intermittent coughing fits,
the nervous glances of strangers
as he pretends to sashay across Broadway when the light is flash down ten seconds to cross the width of Eighty Feet,
on that old American Indian path
that stretches from the tip of Manhattan Isle
to the Capitol of corruption, Albany, 150 miles…
you see,
poets garner knowledge,
then drip
drops drabs in simile and
metaphors, for this poem
is just the unraveling of a poet
who has,
worn out his welcome,
and smirks/winces
notionally, a long way
to say, the poets has
lost his own way,
now untied, untitled,
unentiteled,
and that’s a
wrap…
Oct 11, 2024
Oct 11, 2024 at 7:52 AM UTC