Today (1)

Today I want to post the first in a series of poems on “today”. Lately they just came to me, so I have to listen.

Let’s start at the basics.

To all of us who are – or trying to be - so good, still model children – even at 50, always striving, pillars of the community, heavy-laden with the burden of Ought-to’s. 

Today

TODAY I will not live up to my potential.

TODAY I will not relate well to my peer group.

TODAY I will not contribute in class.

  I will not volunteer one thing.

TODAY I will not strive to do better.

TODAY I will not achieve or adjust or grow enriched

     or get involved.

  I will not put my hand up even if the teacher is wrong

     and I can prove it.

TODAY I might eat the eraser off my pencil.

     I’ll look at clouds.

     I’ll be late.

     I don’t think I’ll wash.

I NEED A REST.

                                                                                   Jean Little 

Hopefully we’ll get the hang of it. If not, keep practicing.

Warning 

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple

With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired

And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

And run my stick along the public railings

And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

And pick flowers in other people's gardens

And learn to spit. 

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

And eat three pounds of sausages at a go

Or only bread and pickle for a week

And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes. 

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

And pay our rent and not swear in the street

And set a good example for the children.

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers. 

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple. 

                                                                                                  Jenny Joseph

Come on, you can do it!

George