Category: Meaning

I Don’t Want to Live Long… Unless:

What are your thoughts on the concept of living a very long life?

Unless you’re physically and mentally in good health, it is my opinion that one should, as well as might be accomplished, pass on gratefully and peacefully.

When I say, ” in good health”, both physically and mentally, I am aware that good health is relative to each individual. I intimately know what it means to me. I have been nigh unto death twice in my life.

As for me, I do not want to live disabled,  physically confined to a wheelchair nor in a bed nor in a nursing home staring at the walls. Nor would I want to live with dementia. My grandmother had dementia, and it was torturous, more so for her, but also for those of us who loved her dearly.

As my mom used to say when she was dying on hospice, I do not want my heart to keep on beating when my mind ceases to function. I am in complete agreement with that sentiment.

Many members of my family have lived very long lives, some even passed one hundred years. When I was younger, I thought I wanted to follow in their footsteps. I no longer have that wish.

Now that I’m nearing 80, I know what pain is. I know what it is have your organs begin to fail. I know what it is to feel myself getting weaker, though I work on my physical body constantly.

I know what it is to be disrespected by those that are younger. I know what it is to be disregarded, though I am educated and my intellect is still intact. I make an effort to learn new things every day.

But in spite of all of that, I love my life. I enjoy my memories. I love each season in turn. I have had an adventurous life. I have been loved good and bad. As I like to say, “I have been ridden hard and put away wet”.  And I have no regrets. I can say with a keen certainty that I fear life more than death.

For now, I will live my life just as I wish… anyway, as well as my diminutive finances will let me. I am satisfied with what I have. But I don’t wish to live without my health and an ability to keep a roof over my head and food in my belly.

When I was younger, and my life was full of new experiences, I often said, “Leave when you have to; stay as long as you can”. I realize now that wasn’t always the best advice. But it sure made for an interesting life.

I Won’t Apologize

I will never apologize for what I haven’t done,

Even if it would give your mind ease, to think you are right and justify how you treat me.

Accuse me and blame me without evidence all that you want,

But still, I won’t apologize for what I haven’t done.

Dislike me, or hate me at whatever level of intensity pleases you. it matters not to me,

I won’t apologize for what I haven’t done, just to see you satisfied.

Tell lies about me. Tell lies about my life. Try as you will to hurt me,

Still, I won’t apologize for what I haven’t done.

Do your best to destroy my relationships with others with your tall tales, your tales of victimhood.

But still I won’t apologize to try to save
my love, not even their love for me.

And rest assured I will not use what I know about you to hurt you or to shame you or to justify my means.

I will stand in my defenselessness. I don’t need to prove my innocence, not to you nor to anyone.

I stand here accused and judged by you, ” the blameless saint”, and by the jury. I have stood before you claiming my innocence.

Yet not one word out of my mouth is believed. Why should I speak? My guilt is already determined.

I am not imprisoned by your words of judgment, nor by the sentence you will try to enforce.

My innocence will stand against your hatred. It stands against the venom that spews from your mouth, the darkness on your face, your gestures, the fire of hell and brimstone in your eyes.

Your judgment and hatred has in actuality been your prison for all these years.  Your suffering has been and is self inflicted, while I have walked free.

I will not apologize for what I haven’t done.

From what I can see, you have sentenced yourself to a lifetime of imprisonment. And though I have offered you clemency, you have refused.

Though you did, and still label our old love, “a neurotic attachment”, that is not how I see it. But my words will not convince. I will no longer try for peace.

Though I have forgiven you a thousand times in a thousand ways, I will not ever again stand in harm’s way… And:

I swear to you, and it is a promise to myself, that I will not ever, ever, apologize for what I have not done.

Poet… Why?

Why do you write in words and phrases that hide in dark obscurity.

Is writing plainly so unappealing?

Unless my mind short circuits are you less profound?

Is it because your search for strange bedfellows in metaphors makes you feel more like your imagined idea of poetry?

I would rather that your words conjure visions and not a puzzle to interpret falsly or incidentally incorrectly?

Don’t you want me to peck and find and gobble your meaning like birds hunting seeds among the tall grass, the pebbles and dust?

I don’t mind the work, but at least make it worth my while.