August 9, 2009

Next: EXERPT FROM LEARNING TO FALL – OK

I SHALL WEAR PURPLE – OK

Luvz Favorite Poetry

Warning
by Jenny Joseph

WHEN I AM AN OLD WOMAN I SHALL WEAR PURPLE
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people’s gardens
And learn to spit

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

Taken from the book
When I Am An Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple
Editd by Sandra Martz
Papier Mache Press–Watsonville, California 1987

WHEN I’M A LITTLE OLD LADY

When I’m a little old lady
Then I’ll live with my children
and bring them great joy.

To repay all I’ve had
from each girl and boy
I shall draw on the walls
and scuff up the floor;
Run in and out
without closing the door.

I’ll hide frogs in the pantry,
socks under my bed.

Whenever they scold me,
I’ll hang my head.

I’ll run and I’ll romp,
always fritter away
The time to be spent
doing chores every day.

I’ll pester my children
when they are on the phone.

As long as they’re busy
I won’t leave them alone.

Hide candy in closets,
rocks in a drawer,
And never pick up my clothes
from the floor.

Dash off to the movies
and not wash a dish.

I’ll plead for allowance
whenever I wish.

I’ll stuff up the plumbing
and deluge the floor.
As soon as they’ve mopped it,
I’ll flood it some more.

When they correct me,
I’ll lie down and cry,
Kicking and screaming,
not a tear in my eye.

I’ll take all their pencils
and flashlights, and then
When they buy new ones,
I’ll take them again.

I’ll spill glasses of milk
to complete every meal,
Eat my banana and
just drop the peel.

Put toys on the table,
spill jam on the floor,
I’ll break lots of dishes
as though I were four.

What fun I shall have,
what joy it will be to
Live with my children….
the way they lived with me!

~author unknown~

If I Had My Life to Live Over
(I would pick more daisies)
by Nadine Stair

I’d dare to make more mistakes next time.
I’d relax, i would limber up.
I would be sillier than I have been this trip
I would take fewer things seriously
I would take more chances
I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers
I would eat more ice cream and less beans
I would perhaps have more actual troubles,
but I’d have few imaginary ones

You see, I’m one of those people who live sensibly
and sanely hour after hour, day after day
Oh, I’ve had my moments
and if I had it to do over again,
I’d have more of them
In fact, I’d try to have nothing else
Just moments, one after another,
instead of livng so many years ahead of each day
I’ve been one of those persons who never
goes anywhere without a thermometer,
a hot water bottle, a raincoat and a parachute.
If I had to do it again,
I would travel lighter than I have

If i had my life to live over,
I would start barefoot earlier in the spring
and stay that way later in the fall
I would go to more dances,
I would ride more merry-go-rounds.

I would pick more daisies.

Taken from the book
If I had my life to live over
Editd by Sandra Haldeman Martz
Papier Mache Press–Watsonville, California 1992

On Loving a Young Man
by Alice Friman

One day when I am ninety-one
you will look at me from the doorway,
leaning with your head tilted to one side
and I will wonder if you remember
how I too used to lean
and laymy hair down black
and whispering on the pillowcase
fresh from the wash, or how later I would turn
tucking my knees under yours
for the night’s insensible hours.

And if I haven’t forgotton–my mind
gone blank as a sheet
I’ll remember you then of the old amazed look
your face wore once at how much
your hands already knew
and I will call you back
from the doorway
to adjust the sweater around my shoulders
the robe in my lap
and take your hand, upturned in mine
to show you how that line is still there:
the lifeline I once traced with my nail,
that day on the bench by the Ohio River
that first time, When I-troubled-leaned
my head on your shoulder,
sideways, the way I do now
and you will then

Taken from the book
If I had my life to live over
Editd by Sandra Haldeman Martz
Papier Mache Press–Watsonville, California 1992

Ripening
by Joanne McCarthy

It is sad to grow old but nice to ripen
–Brigitte Bardot

When she regretted was her skim,
folding in on itself like fabric,
elasticity gone.
Life-juice that plumped her cheeks disappeared,
wrinkles cast their fine net across her face,
laugh-lined her mouth.
Her eyes deepened,
AThe Hairdress warned her about the gray.
Leave it, she said, I want to see
what nature will do.
What nature did was remind her that ripeness
is all, that autumn is the richest season,
that preparing for snow means building a shelter,
that warmth within withstands<br/>
whatever winter howls without

When the baby laughed,
reach for her breast
even though milk had been gone for years,
she remembered sweet burdens of motherhood
relinquished them gladly,
her destiny now another–grandmother,
wise woman, matriarch.
The brain holds whan I am
she said, knowing then that body was always hers
The heart hold what I would be
the womb can rest.
She saw her life, and knew that it was good

Taken from the book
If I had my life to live over
Editd by Sandra Haldeman Martz
Papier Mache Press–Watsonville, California 1992

Old Women’s Choices
by Ruth Harriet Jacobs

We keep our thermostats at fifty-nine
so we can give our children gifts
we really cant afford.
We buy bruised, overripe fruit
from the distressed produce
and donate to our churches

We buy our own clothes at thrift shops
but select grandchildrens presents
from the nicest shop in town.
We eat the same boring dinner every day
because we won’t cook for ourselves
but produce a feast for guests.
We never say we need help when we do
but do without, not wanting to burden
those whose burdens we carried

Some of us break out of these patterns
realize we have rights and choices
to care for ourselves too
but it is hard to forget early teaching.
Even after all these years
we put ourselves last.

Taken from the book
If I had my life to live over
Editd by Sandra Haldeman Martz
Papier Mache Press–Watsonville, California 1992

STRANGE OLD LADY

~*~*~*~*~

A very weird thing has happened.
I have no idea who she is, where she came from, or how she got in.
I certainly didn’t invite her.
All I know is that one day she wasn’t here and the next day she was.
She’s very clever. She manages to keep out of sight for the
most part; but whenever I pass a mirror, I catch a glimpse
of her there; and when I look into a mirror directly to check
my appearance, suddenly she’s hogging the whole thing, completely
obliterating my gorgeous face and body. It’s very disconcerting.

I’ve tried screaming at her to leave but she just screams back, grimacing horribly.
She’s really rather frightening.
If she’s going to hang around, the least she could do is offer
to pay rent. But no. Every once in a while I do find a couple
of dollar bills on the kitchen counter, or some loose change
on my bureau or on the floor, but that certainly isn’t enough.

In fact, though I don’t like to jump to conclusions, I think she steals
money from me regularly. I go to the ATM and withdraw a
hundred dollars, and a few days later, it’s gone.
I certainly don’t go through it that fast, so I can only conclude
that the old lady pilfers it.

You’d think she’d spend some of it on wrinkle cream.
God knows, she needs it. And the money isn’t the only thing she’s taking.
Food seems to disappear at an alarming rate.
Especially the good stuff–ice cream, cookies, candy–I
just can’t keep them in the house. She really has a sweet tooth.

She should watch it; she’s really putting on the pounds.
I think she realizes that, and to make herself feel better,
I know she is tampering with my scale so I’ll think that
I’m gaining weight, too. For an old lady, she’s really
quite childish. She also gets into my closets when I’m not home
and alters all my clothes. They’re getting tighter and
tighter every day.

Another thing:
I wish she’d stop messing with my files and the papers on
my desk. I can’t find a thing any more. This is particularly
hard to deal with because I’m extremely neat and organized;
but she manages to jumble everything up so nothing is where it’s supposed to be.

Furthermore, when I program my VCR to tape something important,
she fiddles with it after I leave the room so it records
the wrong channel or shuts off completely. She finds innumerable,
imaginative ways to irritate me. She gets to my newpapers, magazines,
and mail before me– and blurs all the print;
and she’s done something sinister with the volume controls
on my TV, radio, and phone. Now all I hear are mumbles and whispers.

She’s also made my stairs steeper, my vacuum cleaner heavier,
all my knobs and faucets hard to turn and my bed higher and a
real challenge to climb into and out of. Furthermore,
she gets to my groceries as soon as I shelve them and applies
super glue to the tops of every jar and bottle so they’re
just about impossible to open. Is this any way to repay my hospitality?

I don’t even get any respite at night. More than once,
her snoring has awakened me. I don’t know why she can’t do
something about that. It’s very unattractive.

As if all this isn’t bad enough, she is no longer confining
her malevolence to the house. She’s now found a way to sneak
into my car with me and follows me wherever I go.
I see her reflection in store windows as I pass. and she’s
taken all the fun out of clothes shopping, because her
penchant for monopolizing mirrors has extended to dressing rooms.
When I try something on, she dons and identical oufit-
-which looks ridiculous on her– and then stands
directly in front of me so I can’t see how great it looks on me!

I thought she couldn’t get any meaner than that, but
yesterday she proved me wrong. She had the nerve to come
with me when I went to have some passport pictures taken, and
actually stepped in front of the camera just as the shutter clicked.

Disaster! I have never seen such a horrible picture.
How can I go abroad now? No customs official is ever going
to believe that crone scowling from my passport is me.

She’s walking on very thin ice.
If she keeps this up, I swear, I’ll put her in a home.
On second thought, I shouldn’t be too hasty.
First, I think I’ll check with the IRS and see if
I can claim her as a dependent.

(sigh….. bet that strange old lady is on "her" puter too!)
What’s a body to do??????

(Author Unkown)

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