Portrait of the Poet as a Not So Young Man

Pondering getting older, in melancholy mood, while looking at a charcoal portrait a street artists drew...

The portrait above was drawn a few days ago on Shop Street in Galway by a talented artist from Melbourne... on looking at it after I thought of the title of the play "Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man" and thought of a melancholic twist to that as I reflected on the past few years which have been eventful to say the least. Life takes its toll...

The white hair, welcome, comes in greater numbers
No matter or not if the welcome is there
The black gives way to a growing grey
The hair that once was fair.

The fair gave way to a darkening brown
That became black as a boy became a man
Cutting downly dark stubble from a teenage chin
With a clumsiness never lost as only a young man can.

I sat upon a stool on a Galway street
A wandering artist warts and all drew
Portrait of a poet he only knew as a stranger, a man
Words spoken between artists of different mediums were few.

Both men masters of the pen
In their own mind: let others the truth declare
I'd sat before on a Faro street
For another wandering artist there.

I, younger, looked on life with ambition and hope
Difficulty was opportunity, to be fought
I worn, broken, repaired again by life
This time I solace from life's trials sought.

The hair gets lighter, the heart heavier
Each cut of life's trials makes man weak
He who once the dance of life pursued
Now the couch and sleep does seek.

Am I old before my time
Or is this passing weariness a phase
A rest needed before the fight, the dance, anew
To be prepared for during these melancholic days?

The fields beyond the river are not green
Make the most of where you are while you can
Thinks the poet, pondering the losses of what was fought for all those years
As the artist draws a portrait of the poet as a not so young man

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Reviews

[Einstein Noodle]

a fine portrait! doesn't look so old to me ... :) but then i am pushing on towards 67 .... yahooooooooooooo! ;) the feeling is loud and strong .. this melancholy of aging that overtakes us at times ... can become a disease if one gets stuck there ... life is busy ..too busy for most to sit by in such a state .. in my retirement that couch calls me everyday ... it is one of the few things i fill the day with so easily ... tasks and responsibilities do shrink .... hoping a great top o' the marhnin' to ya!
love your write ... so relatable!
E.

[Katrina Mckeown]

It would be nice to be able to regain our youthfulness, ! I think that's why I'm so enchanted by stories of vampires etc ....though some morning's i fo feel like an oil can would be handy to get me started lol

[Sean Reigner]

I'm not big on poetry, But this one has hit home. I am thinking, there are many other souls in the world that have the same train of thought. Nice one!

[Emily B]

I thought it would take longer to get to be this old

time flies

[An owl on the moon]

Such an achingly painful, beautiful write, my friend. Wishing so much for the poetic life of you to awaken for you in this world too often filled with shadows. So few see the world for what it can be. We are so caught up in seeing it merely for what it is.

[Miss Sharon]

I know there are MANY of us who will identify with these words Tomas. You've written it so well my friend. Bravo! ~Sharon

[Kajal Sharma]

amazing art followed by a beautiful poem...good job

[Adam M. Snow]

What a great tremendous piece. A pure literature art. Bravo!!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

we are the artists with words, others draw...and the portrait, either way, becomes like a "portrait of dorian gray"

maybe that should be how it is with poets....our words age, but we don't.

[Coyote Poetry]

I do understand the poem.
"Thinks the poet, pondering the losses of what was fought for all those years
As the artist draws a portrait of the poet as a not so young man"
Old age bring gray hair and some wisdom. A drawing or photo of old face teaches us. Time will not stop for anyone. Thank you for sharing the outstanding poetry.
Coyote