Old age will find me reeking mothballs,
With my menagerie of cats, in peacock feathers,
Elaborate brooches, my tights will sag
In winter and I will not brush my hair,
I’ll smoke a pipe and wheeze with laughter
At the human condition from a chair,
I may chain myself to railings
Bearing placards of protest, shouting,
“Down With Something Or Other”.
Maybe I will be too old to remember.
You may turn on the news to see me
Handcuffed to Japanese whaling boats.
You may read about me on p7 of a paper,
Sent down for non-payment of Ship Money:
‘Three months of bird for the old bird’,
I’ll grunt at people in the street,
I will wail about my lot in queues.
I will take my teeth out at the dinner table
And snap my gums at your children,
I’ll dribble as I tell you about the old days,
The ways and means of my generation,
I’ll pull at my whiskers gruffly
In sage like explanation, wives’ tales,
How I made my own entertainment,
I will gurn and play the spoons.
I will insist on doing things myself
Martyr grimacing, just as others are offering,
Then lemon sucking complain, I’ll discuss
In detail the problems with my bowels,
The distressing pain of constipation
And my angina with your friends,
I’ll watch the world from behind net curtains,
I will snore through Christmas afternoons.
I will play poker and gin rummy
With all the dirty old boys
Up The Queen’s Head, I’ll sit on park
Benches in the summer feeding pigeons
Day old bread, I’ll pour whiskey in my tea
From the secret hipflask in my pocket,
I’ll ask strangers in the supermarket to find
The glass eye that’s fallen from one socket.
When I am gone
You’ll wonder if, in fact,
I’m still here,
If it’s me that’s fingertipping,
Tapping on your wall,
If I’m that flicker of a whisper
In the corner of your ear,
When I am gone.
Comments
Malenkov | April 25, 2008 - 08:13
what a lovely poem, kind of mood inspiring, but hard to define, nostalga with malice, yet light and almost a hard sentimental mood to it. how like the old people we see, and what a chilling ehco of what we shall one day become? . . .
Malenkov
dilletante | May 15, 2008 - 02:32
Is it just a coincidence that your poem resembles that of Jenny Joseph's ("Warning - When I Am an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple") or did you intend on writing a variaton on the theme?
Doeslittle | May 15, 2008 - 22:55
No, if it was a variation on a theme I would have said so. It's a coincidence as I haven't read any poetry for years and have never heard of her (this is probably a terrible admission - I stopped reading poetry, unintentionally, years ago). This siet is my first foray back into reading other poems. However, I have read it online just now and you're right - same theme and similar beginning. I'm not sure what I should do about it really, maybe I should take it down, but it was neither intentional nor an attempt to mislead.
Doeslittle | May 16, 2008 - 08:23
Have changed the first line so that it isn't like the other poem...I guess thinking of wearing purple when you are old is a highly unoriginal thought. Now they are on a similar theme, but that's ok I think.
tcook | May 16, 2008 - 08:25
No - leave it with this explanation underneath it! It may be that you read the poem years ago and it has lodged somewhere deep in your subconscious or it may be that you just happened to come up with something similiar. So long as it is recognised and acknowledged by you when it is pointed out - as you have so graciously done - then I see no need to remove it.
Doeslittle | May 16, 2008 - 08:30
Oh good, thank you. I have changed the first line now anyway, but will leave it up now as I think it has all been fully explained! Thanks for coming and having a look Tony, much appreciated.
Ewan | May 16, 2008 - 10:11
Just read this now, DL. One thing I do like to do is subvert anything or do a variation on phrases that have passed into the public consciousness, or subconsciousness. In fact the offending 'purple' reference poem is one I have made allusion to.
http://www.abctales.com/story/ewan/when-i-m-old
I am sure no-one thought you were plagiarising in any way.
I have a theory that there is nothing new anyway. We're all rewriting.
Ewan
Doeslittle | May 16, 2008 - 10:38
Ah well, maybe it's yours that threw up my first line then as I have never read the Jenny one, but I do remember reading yours....and re nothing new...that's possibly true. Thanks for being reassuring. :)
Foster | May 17, 2008 - 12:25
Ewan, I subscribe to your theory. The best we can hope for is to say something in a different way than it's already been said.
DL, I'd change it back. Or at least work the original opening into the poem because it was quite a good image in a poem filled with good images.