old age Olympiads

L. B. Mek



 

 

Anyone ever wonder

Why, in this modern age of victimhood

As a status symbol

Where activism’s zealotry, needs only

A cropped, phantom image

To spark, @ # reactionary incredulity

There’s no one

Picketing and protesting on motorways 

demanding

Why, there isn’t a celebrated Olympics

for we

Grey haired, un-spritely 

 

Well, that’s because aged wine

Recognises 

The plight awaiting those whose

Birthdays

Insures, there’s more candles than

Cake

On their horizon’s, plate.

 

You see, there’s nothing

That betrays a person 

Like the biological clock

They were born with

 

One day we’re perfectly normal 

Regular like clockwork, if you will

Then

Upon a flip of a birthday, page

 

Our very own, spineless

Bowls n Bladders

Betray us, so comprehensively 

We spend the rest of our lives

Worshipping, prison snitches!

 

Thus, a conscripted Olympiad 

We unwillingly become

Involuntarily taking part in our

Daily

Extreme sport, barbarity

 

Every time we step out of our house

Necks pivot 360 degrees continuously 

Incessantly, looking for directions

To that nearest, lavatory 

So much so, we make Zen Buddhist’s 

Out of those, ever so frantically flinching

Pigeons 

 

While at home, we achieve so naturally 

What we never could in our youth 

Moonwalking, so schizophrenic innate 

 

Legs, crossing and stuttering

On tippy toes, like a new-born giraffe

Asking our universe 

What the f’ck! Like, why is it so hard

To take a step

Without all our limbs collapsing 

In-sync.

 

So irrationally outlandish 

Are our desperate actions

We resemble serenity, trapped

At that core of a hurricane twister

Everything in our way, sacrificed

Just so we can make it

To that hallowed, salvation ceramic

 

And, one hour later it all starts anew

Bruised toes, still erect from that last

Lifeline, toilet dash

 

Worst part, it’s not a plague

Afflicting us all, the same 

 

Some, have it a lot worse

In fact, it’s all in reverse 

See, they

Are forever, all clogged up 

Watching-on

With outraged green eyes 

At our dastardly dancing acts

 

They, poor souls 

Are ever taking more and more

Experimental concoctions 

Just to remind, their body

It needs to empty those bins

Once in a while

Trying to persuade their organs 

There will be more macro nutrients

Tomorrow, promise!

 

Oh crap, there goes my busybody

pressure colon, trigger

Alarm bells, to my shuffling discotheque

routine

Right then, sledgehammer in-hand

just in case

Some absent minded, family member

thinks, bathroom’s

Are meant to be Shared…!

 

 

© L. B. Mek

March 2023

  • Author: L. B. Mek (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 27th, 2023 02:06
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 23
  • User favorite of this poem: A Boy With Roses.

Comments7

  • 2781

    It's prudent to know where you can go, harder when in foreign territory though.

    • L. B. Mek

      indeed, wisdom of the experienced

    • sorenbarrett

      Although I live in a city, in the U.S., where the median age is 65 there is little respect for the elderly. In Brazil I have encountered more respect, where there are preferential lines and parking for those over 65. People give up their seats for the old. This too is changing here over time with too many old people for the parking spots and preferential lines as long as the normal ones. I too feel some of these infirmities as I grow older. Loved some of the unique references to age in this poem. "more candles than cake" "we make Zen Buddhist's out of those ever so frantically flinching pigeons"

      • L. B. Mek

        yes, used to be longevity of age was respected
        for surviving life
        where as now, with speed of gimmicky gadgets
        and whole sentences reduced to acronyms
        people look upon elders of their own family
        as mere burdens...
        still, good to find the funny in life's cyclical tragedies
        help us maintain a semblance of sanity
        lol
        thank you kind Poet for trying to relate
        hope you enjoyed the read

      • crypticbard

        Oh dear, the number of times in a single hour for that dash to the loo! It is quite amazing really. Why even call it weak bladder when it operates like an over active bladder!?

        • L. B. Mek

          'busy buddy or busybody' if you will
          lol
          glad you found the funny, dear poet

        • Bella Shepard

          My dear friend, you have described the plight of the geriatrically challenged, a group I proudly belong to, in wonderful detail. I can confirm every line. We plan road trips by way of rest stops and facilities. The last thing to do before leaving the house is the make sure no drop remains. There may come the time when more drastic measures are needed, just the words "adult diaper" make me shiver, just hope they come in designer colors. Thank you for this light hearted, if not heavy bladderded take on aging, sure gave me a laugh.

          • L. B. Mek

            'just hope they come in designer colors'
            Brilliant!
            so glad you found it light n humorous
            you've made my week, dear cherished Poet
            thank you!

          • Doggerel Dave

            One or two points worth considering..... ๐Ÿ˜‡!!!

            NO reply please.

          • Neville

            The truth is not only out, I see it is writ ..
            Every now and then, I stumble upon something that makes me wanna laugh and cry at the same time ..

            and this, is just such an occasion .. Not that I stumbled here by any means (stumble when taken within the context of it being inadvertent or accidental, that is) ..

            I like to hope you know I would have got here in the end .. and as always, in a direct, precise and determined manner of my own compelled free will ..

            I do tend to stumble increasingly however, by virtue of precisely what you allude to and so graphically herein ..
            I also have an abundance of grey days & vague moments .. It gets to us all doesn't it brother if we breath long enough .. there now, I feel another episodic bout of incongruity of affect about to strike ..

            • L. B. Mek

              'I do tend to stumble increasingly however'
              lmao!
              you do deadpan like a gold medallist
              my most cherished Hyung
              ...so funny
              thanks for the laugh, it's good for the heart
              ๐Ÿป

            • Mottakeenur Rehman

              Good write๐Ÿ‘Œ

              • L. B. Mek

                thank you, glad you enjoyed the read



              To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.