Wednesday, July 14, 2010

The Greater Grouch

A man I met upon a trail,
Bearded, bent and grim
He seemed so weary and so frail,
I thought at once of him,
That age will neuter every male
And so it's always been.

Sympathy rose in my eye
And must have reached the brim
For the old man looked up to reply
And raising a withered limb
Growled "youth falls from an empty sky
And thus it's ever been!"
-Labfej László

TRADITION, n. Coiled novelty.


Nessa said...

Tradition: What once was old is new again.

~Karen said...

I think i know a few bachelors. I wonder what their nicknames are? Their compliments are usually pretty damn good.

Jim said...

Your poem reminds me of Woody Guthrie whose birthday is today. He was born in Okemah, Oklahoma (1913-1967).

Actually it is his song, Mean Taling Blues, that your poem reminded me of:

I hate ev'rybody don't think like me,
And I'd rather see you dead than I'd ever see you free.
Rather see you starved to death
Than see you at work --
And I'm readin' all the books I can
To learn how to hurt --
Daily Misery -- spread diseases,
Keep you without no vote,
Keep you without no union.

And that Verse Four reminds me of Glenn Beck.

tsduff said...

Good poem Labfej.

Tradition: Sometimes a comforting habit.

Anonymous said...

interesting concept
beliefs and doubts
day to day,,year to year
be it the actions of Christ
or King James thoughts
Santa and Elves or
blue light specials
for kmart layaway
time cycle
concept of a day
for some sunrise to sunset
others the first sliver of the moon to the last glimmer
Yes tradition is simply
a blend of
Blessing and Curse

word verf...joilere

Thom said...

TRADITION, n. Long standing :) I enjoyed the poem a great deal. I'm so glad I'm not young again.

TLP said...

It's because youth falls from a clear blue sky that it's so refreshing.

Good poem.

pia said...

I thought for "grouch" you would write something yourself as you're so good at pretending to be one

Ariel the Thief said...

Hopelessness is never worse than when there's no self-pity to sweet it. And I know what you are going to say, "I thought it was a funny poem, Ariel." No, the funny is the name of the poet. :)

Ariel the Thief said...

"I hate ev'rybody don't think like me,
And I'd rather see you dead than I'd ever see you free."

Wow, Jim! That is some honest singer.

~Karen said...


I submitted a comment at 4:29 p.m. EST. At the same time, a Blogger posting error occurred. The comment exists on "Post a Comment" (I can see it above as I write this extra comment) but it doesn't exist any place else.


TRADITION, n. "A fiddler on the roof trying to scratch out a pleasant, simple tune without breaking his neck".

Doug said...

Nessa, not my right knee.

Karen, an echo is the wit of the wilderness.

Jim, it's easy to forget that Guthrie had such an edge. We mostly remember positive songs about Okies.

True, Terry. Tradition usually gets its due, so we can forget to give it. Frank Fat's with friends is a good tradition.

Yep, Bear. Blue light specials are nice when you're buying the baggies. Not when they're full.

Me too, Thom. A few gritty joints cuts down the foolishness by a lot.

TLP, I know things have taken a turn around here when you're the optimist.

Nope, Pia, I wouldn't trust myself on the topic so I invented a Hungarian poet to quote.

I thought it was a funny poem, Ariel.

True, Karen. I don't know what happened to that comment. That's a 25% deprivation.