Sunday, October 21, 2012

Poetics: acting my age on the stage

live oaks-Oak alley plantation-Vacherie, Louisiana via Pixdaus

Acting my age on the stage...

We were walking briskly under a lane of old oaks--
and out of frustration she screamed at me
Act Your Age!
The oaks said they were,
standing solidly against the wind--
I fell away.


Five of the oaks fell in a storm,
leaving the lane the same year
she left me
my age acting my age,
arguing with my body--
I walk briskly in the wind.

Written for PoeticsIt's About Time  — at dVerse Poets hosted this week by Mary Kling, whose  prompt asks us to contemplate the passing of time. She refers to one of William Shakespeare’s most famous monologues in the play As You Like It -- the “All the World’s a Stage” monologue, and also shares with us a wonderful video of Morgan Freeman reciting the Seven Stages of Man.

As this weekend marks 12 years since the death of my mother I am thinking of her, our complicated relationship, and undying love for one another.



Fireblossom said...

I love the way you've worked the poem around these oaks. it has taken me a long time to be okay with my age. I still waver, at times. But what does it really mean, acting one's age? if it means not dressing like a 20 year old, then I agree, bad idea! But if it means expressing myself any less, then no way.

I know lots of women my age who inspire me. You're one of them.

Sabio Lantz said...

Wow, interesting images. It seemed you wrote the poem to match the pic. Or you did a heck of a job finding that pic!

Mary said...

Acting one's age can be either a good thing or not. At this point I would prefer most often not to act my age. LOL.

Very striking that five oaks fell in a storm the same year your mother left you. That would definitely cause one to pause and think!

Thanks for writing to my prompt!

Owen said...

Lovely poem and oak alley... as for age, I think we should remain children... was it Tom Robbins who said, "It's never too late to have a happy childhood" ?

Brian Miller said...

smiles...reminds me of the lane to my grammas house growing up...i dont know that i ever want to act my worked a pretty emotional story out of this...


Interesting poem -- I can read much into it. Love, true love never dies. Good post -- barbara

Rob-bear said...

(Some days you give me the darnedest things with which to work. ~ Bear)

Acting one's age
is always a challenge.
Is it your age,
as measured
by the unstoppable
trudge of days and years?
It is the age in your head,
which is at least ten to 20 years
younger that you are
"supposed" to be,
and which leaves you
arguing with your body?

The oaks are strong and stubborn.
Yet they, too, fall
in the wrong wind,
regardless of their age.

And the frailty of human love
can so clearly been seen as
weaker than oak,
leaving you abandoned
to a brisk walk
in that

Lydia said...

Fireblossom~ Thank you, and back atcha. I am sorry, I cannot be of any help in defining "acting your age." Agree with you on the clothes issue. My mother must have, later in life, "gotten it," as she had a 'fridge magnet (now on my fridge) that reads: We are always the same age in side.

Sabio~ Interesting comment! Actually, the poem was complete before I went hunting for an image. I suspected that I'd find one at Pixdaus and was not disappointed.

Mary~ Such a good prompt; thank you for it and for your visit and comments!

Owen~ Wow, I was thinking about you today.....
I agree that it's never too late to have a happy childhood, and I continue my search.... :)

Brian~ Your grandmother's place must have been special.
I think there's a big diff between having appropriate maturity for given situations and "acting your age." Acting Your Age sounds like a restriction!

Barbara Folkways~ Thanks for the words of insight. Very kind of you.

Rob-bear~ You are a true wonder, Bear. Surely, you are the only person in the blogosphere who leaves comments in poetic form. You are gifted and your gifts are appreciated.

susan said...

Oh my. What a powerful image and how familiar.

mythopolis said...

The trees are so much older than me
It makes my knees weak.
I am more fragile than this tree.
It will live long after me,
And maybe throw
Some shade over
my stone,
If I should be
So lucky,
So dead,
And alone.

Lydia said...

susan~ Great to have a comment from you. Snowing there yet?

mythopolis~ Wow! That's beautiful!



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