Today I found my old shoes by the settee
And remembered you and me.
Your breasts where firm. Your skin youthful and tight
When I indulged last night.
Afterwards, your perfume lingered
On my pillows and fingers.
You kissed me goodbye.
And today I ponder on my settee
Bought in my youth
And the truth, I am growing old.
When I stayed in a haunted old house
With ghastly ghouls and a very small mouse,
I awoke with a fright
As the clock struck midnight,
And ghouls screamed with fear of that mouse!
Yesterday, whilst Zooming with fellow poets, I was introduced to “The Poem of Age 35”, by Turkish poet Cahit Sitki Taranci. I have never visited Turkey and know very little of Turkish culture. I was, however deeply impressed and moved by Cahit Sitki Taranci’s “The Poem of Age 35”. Hence I am sharing it here The Poem of Age 35 by Cahit Sitki Taranci – Eppur Si Muove
Aaron Barry, a white poet pretended to be black and had poems published which had previously been rejected when submitted under his own name. This story has not surprisingly provoked a good deal of controversy and I’ll leave it to you my readers to make up your own minds on the rightness or otherwise of the situation described in this article How white man became famous as a queer Nigerian poet – Businessday NG, and Elsewhere online.
When a man whacking me with a lamp
Demanded that I give him a stamp.
I said, “dear Hutt,
Please accept this uppercut!”,
Then I stamped on him and his lamp!
If you had come
That night, there might have been delight
On my part.
But old time runs
And I find women of your kind
Leave no broken heart
When they depart.
Though I have sometimes been left bereft
When fun is done
For my clock
Must stop, and I return to dust.
Yet still I find
My man’s mind
Is full of lust.
I know a young lady named Round
Who is extremely fond of the fairground.
Whilst on the Big Dipper
I met with a stripper
Whose name I found to be Round!
Have you seen that pretty Miss flow
Who works from a flat in Soho?
Please make no mistake
She serves delicious cake –
Well that’s what I’ve heard from Joe …!
When a most forgetful old lady named Moriah
Asked, “what has happened to the British Empire?”,
And they said, “it is long gone!”,
She sighed and said, “eaten by Ron”.
She’s a most amusing old lady is Moriah!
She spoke of the blind man
Who came to tune the family piano.
He thinks her name was Emily.
But men’s memories play tricks
And time slips
Unnoticed away.
He can not say
Whether she played the piano.
Perhaps she said
But his man’s mind
Was on bed.
It was an old tune
They played
Constrained by time.
He finds a blind piano tuner
He never met.
And Emily on his mind.
And lost in introspection
He searches for a connection
And recalls their night’s conversation
Followed by bed.
K Morris - Poet 