Older.
I’m older now.
Much older than I was the day before.
The day I can’t remember and although it’s in September, I can’t recall what date my birthday falls on anymore.
I’m ageing.
Much nearer to the tomb than to the womb.
Decaying and corroding cursing swearing, moaning
That it’s all come around too hastily, too soon.
The passing of those years have gone too quick
And there are still a few more ladies that I’d have liked upon my conscience, and a few more lustful sins I might commit.
I’m Maturing.
Increasingly invisible, cantankerous and boring, but there’s still a bit more sex I’d like to try.
Before I start to shiver, wither, shrivel up and die,
Erotic and exotic in the sheets,
My mind is “Mr. Lover-man", my body fast asleep.
Decrepit in my sorrow and containment.
I fart in bed quite loudly for warmth and entertainment.
The night-time darkness heavy as it lingers.
Nightmares of the “Reaper” with his scythe and
pointy fingers.
Considering if I’m the one he’ll pick
To shake hands with St Peter, or to wrestle with “St Nick.”
I’m short of friends to hear about my pains.
The crutch on all my trousers all have stains and oily marks I can’t explain.
I’m knackered, angry, miserable and grumpy.
Sick of making funeral plans, I dream of Rumpy Pumpy!
A few more nights of passion, love and lust.
I try to start the engine but my starter motor’s bust.
The firing of my sex machine extinguished or declined.
The image of this gigolo, mere fiction in my mind.
Once more I return home all by myself.
Past my “Best by date “alone here on the shelf.
Society directs me to my station.
I lay here in the darkness in lurid............contemplation.
Drowning in decline and in decay.
Encouraged, I can feel another fart is on its way.
The winters of my life now feel much colder.
Nobody wants to face the truth when we’re getting older.
-
Author:
Chris Duffy (
Offline) - Published: August 25th, 2025 12:49
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 8
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments4
Well, you're certainly downright hilarious in rendering your decayed state of being. Yes, the crass reality is distasteful, but the subtle humour overrides that effectively, I guess, or else since we're peers more or less, I am amused. Excellently rendered with suggestive imagery and a haunting poignancy. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for the kind words.
Much appreciated
My pleasure, you're welcome.
Sex a measure of youth where virility is the elixir of staying young. A fun read
Many thanks
Most welcome
Recognition. Not an awful lot of fun is it?
I think I'm ready, but will grab what's left of life as it passes when I can.
Take care, Chris.
Thank you Dave.
Nice to hear from you
Well you are still there Chris as am I.
Andy
Cheers, Andy .
The only thing I want for my birthday is an old birthday
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