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A Poem by RobertRonnow


Author: RobertRonnow
Created: March 11, 2017 at 06:26 am
Upload Type: Poem, G (All)  
Category: Free Verse | Writing | General/Other
Upload Stats: 4.25 Stars by 2 users with 2 comments and 57 views

Aging as a Spiritual Practice  

Beautiful summer day. You know you're gonna die
that's why you know no joy.
Obsessed with self, there is no answer
unless religion, tv, stories, sports matter.
So what if nothing rhymes and I don't
bring my life into an expressible state
or fight purposelessness, anomie. No one writes.
Running the gauntlet alone. A good day to die, the Apaches say.

For men like us dying's easy, it's living that's hard.
And since dying's much like living, that's hard too.
There's some contentment in letting community decide
your place in it. We're not talking to you.
Really, it's a perfect day. Every leaf is out
that's coming out. The grass is high
and unidentified yet another year. Being knowledgeable
is the best defense against your insignificance.

Can't stop the quince from blossoming
or my sons from smoking, speeding.
The best that can be done or said's a blessing.
Less tv, less guessing
about the effects of your anger unless
you want to be an angry man forever.
Coming from the funeral with friends,
talking on the telephone. OK about being alone.

Alive, almost sure of it. Whether I'm a visitor
to my life or the actual owner.
Mature poets steal, most are masturbators.
This house could use a good cleaning
and emptying out. I should subscribe
to the local newspaper, do my job well,
do less until one thing's done well.
What would that be? Old, and yet so young.

There are a million poets, I'm poet #500K.
Plenty of mysteries, infinite philosophies,
prayers, laws and unwritten rules.
That's why we go to school, life's complicated.
All I do not know: ATP, probabilities,
the glorious revolution, meiosis and mitosis
and all I'll never see, the bottom of the ocean,
the palm at the end of the mind, a wolverine.

There are certain indicators, undeniable,
inexorable. Forget-me-not, is that all I want?
To get lucky, you gotta be careful first.
To be great, you gotta be willing to sound BAD.
Although we cannot make the sun stand still
yet will we make him run. Brave revelers.
Signed engagement letter attached.
Attachment to self and to things to do.


© RobertRonnow - all rights reserved

Author Notes


--with a line by Andrew Marvell

www.ronnowpoetry.com


 
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Comments & Reviews ( X 2)



Malpa
March 11, 2017
Helpful? Thumbs UpThumbs Down
Challenging
Almost too many layers of meaning to cope with, but I guess that is what you were trying to achieve, Robert. Well done. It is certainly the poem today that has made me pause longest and think most deeply.
applaud


There are no comments on this review.




Constance_
March 11, 2017
Helpful? Thumbs UpThumbs Down
Robert . You have penned a great poem full sf many wonderful lines and deep emotions
applaud


There are no comments on this review.




      

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