| Biographical Non-Fiction posted March 31, 2024 |
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Ain't it the truth ...
Days Once Long Now Grow Short
by Tom Horonzy
If my title is given thought, one may think
of the coming and going of summer equinoxes
where days ebb slowly toward longer nights,
but nay, my thoughts muse the circle of life
from the day of one's birth to the day of their death.
I cannot recall in infancy how long a day was
rarely thinking about anything but food and sleep.
Then kindergarten came along when days ended too soon.
Who would want to leave friends and games to go home?
That lasted for a year, maybe two, then days became longer
with lessons involving the three r's, which I ponder, why,
when only one of three began with r? Anyhow, I found
them boorish and waited impatiently for the bell to ring.
Summer days were never-ending from the time I awoke
'til the street lights came on with lunch and dinner breaks.
As kids, we had a lot to do and never tired of playing ball,
ridin' bikes, goin' fishin', and chasin' girls if only for the joy
of hearing them scream and sayin', "Leave me alone."
Those good times came to an end when fems,
once their enemy became a boy's best friend
replacing bikes and poles with malts and shakes,
a pair of straws, and a dime for the jukebox.
Those days were days I hoped would never end
as everything done seemingly came up roses.
Then, the busy years came rushing in.
Starry notions went astray in exchange for
years of labor when days began early and ended late.
I worked to retire, hoping to find Ponce de Leon's tonic
to relive the high life I recalled as a kid. Fat chance!
Why? I'm too fat to move, and even if I could,
with artificial knees, a pacemaker, and a bad back
the only moving I do is aided with a Power-Lyft chair.
My porcelain teeth ache when eating rib-eye steak,
and cruises with a view are interrupted by the need to pee.
As for friends, more are dying than living the Life of Riley.
Now, I realize my days are numbered, and by using
mathematical equations taught in school that I have
fewer days in my future than those in my past.
What's worse is, these and those days,
having the same number of hours, pass faster
than a powerful locomotive carrying Lois Lane and
Superman won't leap any tall buildings to rescue me.
If my title is given thought, one may think
of the coming and going of summer equinoxes
where days ebb slowly toward longer nights,
but nay, my thoughts muse the circle of life
from the day of one's birth to the day of their death.
of the coming and going of summer equinoxes
where days ebb slowly toward longer nights,
but nay, my thoughts muse the circle of life
from the day of one's birth to the day of their death.
I cannot recall in infancy how long a day was
rarely thinking about anything but food and sleep.
Then kindergarten came along when days ended too soon.
Who would want to leave friends and games to go home?
rarely thinking about anything but food and sleep.
Then kindergarten came along when days ended too soon.
Who would want to leave friends and games to go home?
That lasted for a year, maybe two, then days became longer
with lessons involving the three r's, which I ponder, why,
when only one of three began with r? Anyhow, I found
with lessons involving the three r's, which I ponder, why,
when only one of three began with r? Anyhow, I found
them boorish and waited impatiently for the bell to ring.
Summer days were never-ending from the time I awoke
'til the street lights came on with lunch and dinner breaks.
As kids, we had a lot to do and never tired of playing ball,
ridin' bikes, goin' fishin', and chasin' girls if only for the joy
of hearing them scream and sayin', "Leave me alone."
'til the street lights came on with lunch and dinner breaks.
As kids, we had a lot to do and never tired of playing ball,
ridin' bikes, goin' fishin', and chasin' girls if only for the joy
of hearing them scream and sayin', "Leave me alone."
Those good times came to an end when fems,
once their enemy became a boy's best friend
replacing bikes and poles with malts and shakes,
once their enemy became a boy's best friend
replacing bikes and poles with malts and shakes,
a pair of straws, and a dime for the jukebox.
Those days were days I hoped would never end
as everything done seemingly came up roses.
as everything done seemingly came up roses.
Then, the busy years came rushing in.
Starry notions went astray in exchange for
years of labor when days began early and ended late.
I worked to retire, hoping to find Ponce de Leon's tonic
to relive the high life I recalled as a kid. Fat chance!
to relive the high life I recalled as a kid. Fat chance!
Why? I'm too fat to move, and even if I could,
with artificial knees, a pacemaker, and a bad back
with artificial knees, a pacemaker, and a bad back
the only moving I do is aided with a Power-Lyft chair.
My porcelain teeth ache when eating rib-eye steak,
and cruises with a view are interrupted by the need to pee.
As for friends, more are dying than living the Life of Riley.
My porcelain teeth ache when eating rib-eye steak,
and cruises with a view are interrupted by the need to pee.
As for friends, more are dying than living the Life of Riley.
Now, I realize my days are numbered, and by using
mathematical equations taught in school that I have
mathematical equations taught in school that I have
fewer days in my future than those in my past.
What's worse is, these and those days,
having the same number of hours, pass faster
than a powerful locomotive carrying Lois Lane and
Superman won't leap any tall buildings to rescue me.
Superman won't leap any tall buildings to rescue me.
 Recognized |
Dementedly yours, I continue writing thoughts that appear from nowhere. Yes, this has the form of verse, but it is an authored tale that deserves an artistic presentation.
All the photos in the collage are my own and are meant to show the circle of life mentioned.
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. All the photos in the collage are my own and are meant to show the circle of life mentioned.
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© Copyright 2024. Tom Horonzy All rights reserved.
Tom Horonzy has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
