Old Older Oldest, Opus # 1, 2, 3, 4 


A Prelude by Bob Dylan

“While them that defends what they cannot see
With a killer’s pride, security It blows the mind
Most bitterly For them that think death’s honesty
Won’t fall upon them naturally
Life sometimes must get lonely”
—Verse 14,’It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding) 

Old Man Winter Beard

There goes youth when I was brave and bold
growing old without paying much attention
in the winter of my life I often feel the cold
dementia onset hinders some comprehension

Older Violins Sweeter Music

Funny things forgotten will never be told
short term memory loss filled with frustration
as I slowly learn what it means to grow older
gradually feeling each and every manifestation

Oldest Living Life Forgiving

File all these in a ‘fuggedaboutit’ folder
chalk it up to brain drain and benign neglect
with absolutely no chips on my shoulder
my ego says what the hell did you expect

Some Old Shelter/The Sum of Helter Skelter

My id seems insistent that I did my best
reality’s road signs point to eternal rest

A Coda by Bob Dylan

“If dogs run free, why not me
Across the swamp of time?
My mind weaves a symphony
And tapestry of rhyme
Oh, winds which rush my tale to thee
So it may flow and be
To each his own, it’s all unknown
If dogs run free.”

Joey aka Pepe Batbon Connolly is a retired educator who taught in the CNMI, NOLA, and LVNV. He is a sonnet practitioner who enjoys stargazing.


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