Mid-life Crisis by Philogos at All poetry

Mid-life Crisis

The platform crowd waits, grey,

For a Technicolor hero

But all they see are clowns.

There are no more heroes

Once one understands

That even JFK was mostly sham.

It’s time for grey heroes to show

That the baby boom wasn’t a damp squib.

Now, having given up smoking

And full cream milk

We can afford to take a risk.

Stand up and change the world!

Author notes

As usual, the contest for which this was written closed yesterday. Deadlines? What the hell! It's the poetry that counts.
Written March 8th, 2006

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Comments

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By me, right now

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JaysonBaby
May 3, 2006
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good
hey that is good. Keep up the work
Shakari
April 12, 2006
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It is the poetry that counts, not the deadline! I am sorry that you missed the contest by a day, but guess what?! You would have a gold medal in my book.

The wonderful outcomes that we expect in the first half of our lives, are realized in the second half, that they have to be worked for...and most of the time, will never come for us. Many men freak out on their midlife crisis(es?). My dad was angry for a few weeks...not good.

You gave this piece the modern day feel that contemporary writes are supposed to have! Keep up the great work and keep writing!
Harlequin
March 12, 2006
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Brilliant Vic, poetry does count. We all go through life expecting great things, only to turn into 'a damp squib'. Only we can change the the outcome...Brilliant Jeff
cvillelisa
March 8, 2006
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Oh wonderous. Thank you. Lol. Appeals to my ever growing knowledge of failure. I like the poem even more -- and will commence stealing.
Philogos
March 8, 2006
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A squib is a small firecracker - originally it was a cardboard tube filled with gunpowder used to ignite an explosion - so a damp squib is a firecracker that doesn't explode. As an idiom, then it is anything that doesn't meet one's expectations. encyclopedia.thefreedictionary.com/damp+squib
Edited on Mar 11, 12:37 because ''.
cvillelisa
March 8, 2006
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Satirical.

Though I don't know what a damp squib is, I very much love the sound of it in this poem. And potentially have stolen it for future use in one of my own.

Yup. Poems that count. Don't you find that poems lead to more poems - somehow that little thread of an idea it just seems to unravel all sorts of other potential stringy threads of ideas.

And then add in the Thievery Aspect of it all. I read something someone else writes which then somehow unravels my little thread brain ..

Ah, yes. It's the Poetry.

Happy Wednesday.
March 8, 2006
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Ok Ill hav=ng up my super hero suit but I still dont know what to do to make things right in this world . Its such a big job, where do we start?
chills
March 8, 2006
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Is it a bird? is it a plane?
So what do we have to do then Vic? I guess you'll be looking swanky with your y fronts over your tights........! Me, I think I am Blunderwoman............. and I haven't given up the fags. Put me down for a desk job please.... big love, x Debs (ps I guess you missed the deadline cos you couldn't find an empty phone box??)I know, too much levity. Seriously, enjoyed this.
Edited on Mar 08, 7:01 because ''.
Cat
March 8, 2006
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it is the poetry that counts- and this one is thought provoking and gave me a bit of a giggle-

i like giggling- and i like this poem.
(cute how you do these long - well thought out crits and this is the sort of bullshit crit you get back)

but it's true- i do like this.

m