Year: 2009

i really enjoy
hanging with you
your perspective as fresh
as morning dew
your adventures amusing
and so far-flung
but how dare you be so young

your friends are intelligent
talented
cute
energetic
and often astute
your crowd is exciting
to be among
but how dare you be so young

don’t you realize
everyone dies?
our lives a procession
to our demise?
and the further down
that path we roll
the more time takes its toll?

you don’t get allusions
common as dirt
or references
known by the alert
or at least by those
not recently sprung
how dare you be so young

your sleek physique
your glowing skin
your little tush
your waist so thin
all leave me lustful
and unstrung
how dare you be so young

the quest for truth
the muse you seek
the blush of youth
upon your cheek
all so charming
and jejune
yet alarming
gone so soon

i want to say
”enjoy, enjoy”
but such advice
can well annoy
i’ve been carefree
then time stung
how dare you be so young

i was so enthralled with the experience

i forgot to take pictures
let alone record it with words

i should write of zurich
i should write of prague
i should keep a journal
or start an on-line blog

but when i’m in the midst
of some exotic scene
the effort to record it
would really contravene
the pleasure of the moment
the experience as is
flatten out the highs and lows
decarbonate the fizz

even taking photos
puts a camera in between
the object and observer
the scope of what is seen

subtracting precious seconds
from one’s immersion in
the culture or the vista
where climate meets the skin

what’s true of vacation
can also hold for work
i should record the progress
but i get so berserk
with deadlines and revisions
with meeting the demands

where’s the time to analyze
all the different strands
of thought and creativity
from everyone involved
the input and great teamwork
to get the problems solved?

yes i should write of all of it
take lots of pictures too
but when i’m in the thick of things
there’s just too much to do

when it comes to keeping house
i am my mother’s son
though i’m not a legal spouse
i’m the cleaning one
i’m not really a fanatic
and often let it slide
until the dust and clutter
reach a point i can’t abide

i’m especially like my mom
if any visitor is due
a repairman coming by
prompts me to face the slew
of papers, mail and stuff
which endlessly accrue
or at least to tidy up
anything in view

lately i am finding
this place difficult to keep
i feel like a dirty louse
or at least a clutter creep

when we first moved into this spot
those many years ago
it was relatively easy
to have everything just so
each relic had its place
and those places did seem ample
to file or store away
each artifact or sample

but through the years we grew
busier and older
with extra residue
filling file and folder
and more and more it seems
the clutter keeps on creeping

out of where it’s meant to live
’til there’s barely room for sleeping

clothes escaping closets

books still seeking shelves

papers strewn like autumn leaves
tossed by playful elves
gifts we never cared for
but couldn’t throw away
mementos which are meaningful
with no place for display

i have to say i’ve noticed
we are not alone
friends with bigger houses
have rooms now overgrown
with the detritus of living
with things they want to keep
like me they’re on the losing side
of all this clutter creep