Tag Archives: Aging

Recordings

Posted on August 27, 2019 by sputterpub

Of late I’ve started sampling old CDs (I own a working player and a crate of purchased music decades old). Some please enough to keep and some are second-rate about to go, but all induce in me nostalgic habits corny … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

The Door Handle

Posted on August 22, 2019 by sputterpub

Invited to a lunch I couldn’t duck, I thought I’d make the transit nice for me. I’d stroll to BART and ride, and then I’d tuck another walk in the vicinity of San Francisco Bay. So I made use of … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Poetry, Transit | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Not Neuro

Posted on August 19, 2019 by sputterpub

Perambulating, sometimes I ignore the views I’m walking through. I organize my errands, screen a daydream, focus more inside than on the scenes before my eyes. Returning to what’s present, I’ve been known to wonder where I’ve wandered. I forgot … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Cognition, Health, Poetry | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Yellow Roses

Posted on August 12, 2019 by sputterpub

Some things I seldom do I did last week. It started Tuesday morning, I believe. I hurt my back with five-pound weights – I speak of that not much or loudly, trying not to grieve about surprises aging throws at … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Home, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Fear of Irony

Posted on August 8, 2019 by sputterpub

I used to know a guy who spoke so well he could have been a new Demosthenes, until his brain misfired – like a spell, he lost his speech in agonized degrees. My children’s dad was always into sound – … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Health, Poetry, Writing | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Necked

Posted on August 5, 2019 by sputterpub

At least a score of years ago, I heard I’ve osteo-arthritis near my neck. I tend to clench; I took them at their word, attended therapy, and felt the wreck of nape and jawline start to ease a bit. I … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Health, Poetry | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

On Rereading FF

Posted on July 23, 2019 by sputterpub

I found a vintage Heinlein on the shelf, a yellowed paperback with tiny print. I pulled it down to entertain myself, and read 200 pages with a squint. I’ve recommended it to kids and friends without rereading what I loved … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Poetry, Writing | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

To 43

Posted on June 24, 2019 by sputterpub

My 30-something son is sick again. From flu or spoiled food he’s feeling sore. His wife is ailing too, but most the men we care about appear to suffer more. She asked me was he like this as a child? … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Family, Philosophy, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

If I Were Dead

Posted on June 20, 2019 by sputterpub

If I were dead, it wouldn’t be that odd. I’ve almost lived three score and ten right now. I’m old enough to meet whatever God arranged to follow life, of what and how and never why. I wouldn’t be that … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Philosophy, Poetry, Writing | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Backache

Posted on June 17, 2019 by sputterpub

I tweaked my lower back. I felt the ache when I got out of bed at half past six. I’d taken while away from home a break of nearly sixteen weeks. I guess the disk required more protection at this … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment