Mark Cantrell, Author

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POEM: Age Has No Meaning

Posted by Mark Cantrell on April 19, 2015 at 8:40 AM

Age Less

By Mark Cantrell

 

Old... old, you say?

You call me old,

You,

Young sperm,

Still wet behind the flagellum,

Bathed still in the

Seminal fluid of a rise to blinking

Vapid, consciousness?

I shall tell you, tender shoot,

I am not old,

But ancient,

So ancient indeed that beyond

Time and measure

Do I find youth eternal.

Ageless and timeless, I am,

Ebbing, surging, with vigour,

While you, young sperm,

Still beat your tender tail

Against the flow of seeding,

To reach your place of spawning,

Whence to claim some ovum to call your home.

Why, you, barely formed,

Dare to put forth your wasted squirt

Of fleeting existence

Against mine, which has

Taken root,

Deep in the ageless realms of time,

Where youth is ephemeral, and

Age immortal!

 

Mark Cantrell,

Stoke-on-Trent,

12 June 2010

 


Copyright © June 2010. All Rights Reserved.

Categories: POEM

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