Old-Man-Poet

Old-man-poet! Write from the heart;
Reboot the world; make it new again!
Turn its white hoary head with a start;
Spin a poem of ablative gain!
Let ablution be the God-ablated birth;
Let it unravel the umbilical whorl
That winds a crinkled-wrinkled world
In a fisted babe of death and dearth!
Or die de-poetized! Your dullard eyes
Pluck out or shut! The undead heart lies
Where it bleeds and dies by-the-bye,
Unborn of stars, sun, moon and sky!

Old-man-poet! Shake up, or shut up
The world within your small body of head;
Therein it festers, beaten and drubbed;
Therein with you it dies afore it is dead.

Notes for Old-Man-Poet
A poem of urgency for all who are rapidly aging – and a call to the young to make much of time to live their passion and achieve their dreams! Also, a call to build a new world with God put away.
Reboot: a metaphor from the world of computers, i.e. turn off a computer to get it to start
Turn//start: image in which the world is personified as one who is startled; also, a play on ‘reboot’ in which one turns off a computer to get it to restart.
Ablative: of excising or cutting away as in ablative surgery
Ablative gain: an oxymoron
Ablution: cleansing, especially as part of a religious rite.
God-ablated birth: a life with God excised

Verse 2: the image employed is that of a caesarian birth
De-poeticized: made unfit for writing poetry
By-the-bye: introducing a new topic

This poem is part of the Poetry Book Arrow of Time

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

2 Comments on "Old-Man-Poet"

Notify of
avatar
Sort by:   newest | oldest
J.rid
Member

I truly enjoyed reading this, yes no matter the age a poet will always try to give words
of wisdom to the bitter end, I reckon.
Funny I watched a poet on the news this morning doing a (what the papers say) stint
and he with every bit of news did just that bringing in the pleasure of todays–new
words, so your poem rang a cord too.

wpDiscuz