I’m Getting Old Now by Strider Marcus Jones

i’m getting old now-

you know,

like that tree in the yard

with those thick cracks

in its skinbark

that tell you

the surface of its lived-in secrets.

my eyes,

have sunk too inward

in sleepless sockets

to playback images

of ghosts-

so make do with words

and hear the sounds

of my years  in yourself.



riding a rusty three-wheel bike

to shelled-out houses bombed in the blitz,

then zinging home zapped in mud

to wolf down chicken soup

over lumpy mashed potato for tea-

with bare feet sticking on cold kitchen lino

i shivered watching the candle burn down

racing to finish a book i found in a bin-

before Mam showed me her empty purse

and robbed the gas meter-

the twenty shillings

stained the red formica table

like pieces of the man’s brains

splattered all over the back seat

of his rambolic limousine

as i watched history brush out her silent secrets.

One thought on “I’m Getting Old Now by Strider Marcus Jones

  1. Pingback: Delighted to have two of my poems published in Issue 2 of The Curly Mindhttps://thecurlymindblog.wordpress.com/2016/01/23/life-is-flamenco-by-strider-marcus-jones/ – Strider Marcus Jones Poet

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