Thursday's body clock
of forgotten Wednesday
slows the fog of approaching Friday.
Ever closer, crawling, relentless,
spurring all dull days to rhyme.
Here, in a diary of the ignored.
Events parade across a page
of locked down law's enforcement,
days drawn blank, no entry
with even less achieved.
. Planned meals fall ridiculed to breakfast
. whilst outside, announced by binman's clatter,
. seven more days have passed away - all gone,
. time wasted, as if, time no longer matters.
And this next week, whatever that is,
heralds a birthday without cheerful celebration.
No joyful carefree, tiny hand in hand,
with grandchild, window shopping.
No puff of breath ....No candle blown hurrah!
All arise then sparkling at ring tone's trill
as smile widens to .......evaporation...
another sales pitch, cold call,
and sudden drooping shoulders
of disappointment.
. A fine age to age for aged minds
. to thrive in lonely, darkening shadow?
- Author: dusk arising ( Offline)
- Published: February 26th, 2021 00:04
- Comment from author about the poem: This then for older folk suffering under lockdown and shielding. Whilst I maintain positive outlook, time passes not unnoticed as the spring of my bodyclock gathers rust, in need of regulation.\r\n
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 47
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
Comments6
So true d a but we do have music to keep us company as the fine song you shared today shows.
Andy
It's one of the few Archi Shepp numbers i know where he stays in tune.
Well miracles DO happen then.
A fine write dusk.
That the highlight of the week - the dustmen calling?!
The highlight of the week for me was definitely your email asking for contraceptive advice.
I don't remember sending that e-mail. Swoon! heehee.
how beautifully you've worded this unfiltered expression of your lamenting: contemplation..
for underneath all your listed reasoning for misery, exists that tangible - search, for relief
highlighted in that brisk answer to a telephone ring..
there-in rests our answers to positivity's sustainability: we're just one call, one visit or even one conversation away, from undoing this shadow of anxiety that's threatening to swallow us whole,
so then, let us not be mere victim's but victor's: even over our self-induced depression, 'by proactively choosing' to write, talk and communicate in anyway we can,
'this too shall pass:
we will prevail!'
stay strong: let us all be brave and reach-out for help if we need it
(what a great example your writing represents dear poet)
https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/guides-to-support-and-services/crisis-services/helplines-listening-services/
LOL @ you. This is a poem not a plea for help. Though your comment goes to show how well i have been able to express the plight of the lonely older ones in lockdown and I thank you for that.
Fridays do come fast, Dusk. Good write.
aha, we just let another friday pass..... gotta make us all the keener to get out and about after lockdown eh? Thanks Jerry
I like the malicious tone that you have used here dusk arising, certainly underlines the tone of the times.
I do hope that you've blocked those numbers for both your sanity, and security, or perhaps when a certain unknown number calls again, answer them with a chilling tone of voice, to ensure they never ring again. Haha!
Bravo, and I hope that all is well.
Thanks for reading and a great comment scribbler. I wish my phone would let me block so many of those cold callers.
what's not to like about these words apart from the realness of it .. if ya get what I mean ...
true, of the moment and has got more than its fair share of ouch factor ......
Yep, ouch indeed.... i wanna break free..... thanks as always Neville
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