Seize The Week Poem by Francie Lynch

Seize The Week

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Grasp the past in memory;
The present by attention,
And our future with anticipation.



Last week. This week. Next week.
Sounds trite, but that's three weeks
In a flash.
No wonder I'm weak-kneed.
It's a life-time for some.
So sad!
It's an eternity for others.
Too bad!
Eliot measured our world
In coffee spoons.

Carpe Diem works for today.
But Carpe diebus septem.
Seizes the week.
There's so few of them.
Males get about 4200.
Females about 4400.
In this light, women don't
Really outlive men that much.
What's 200 weeks?

On average, we're
Run of the mill aggregate.
You can't take one back,
Or extend one.
There's the week-end we crave,
Not weeks' end.
(My knees are buckling)

If time isn't an event,
Or thing,
Why such a cruel sting.

Weeks aren't noticed slipping
Unless you've two weeks holidays,
Or two weeks til... Christmas, or
A fortnight til Martinmas.

Carpe diebus septem.

The weeks of youth.
You fist the car keys
At 830 weeks,
Then you discover you need
Gas, money, a girl/boy, and
All that other necessary stuff
For the next 365 weeks.
So, get a part-time job

Yet, this is
Nothing compared to the
1820 ahead of you in the full-time harness,
Followed by 900 weeks of sleeping in,
Babysitting, living, breathing.
It's a limited time
To dispose of your assets.
Give, share, spend, enjoy...
Poof!
I'll die broke.

After 1300 weeks of bachelor(ette) ness
We partner-up for 200 weeks
Of co-habital bliss and kiss
Before the blisters and sisters
Join the family.
The drama unfolds from our
Box seats for 1000 weeks,
And if we're fortunate,
We countdown: 5,4,3,2,1, liftoff:
We have launch.
The kids are orbiting.
And they will, eventually.
Your union producing the fledglings
May last 365 weeks of meals, deals,
Forgets and forgives...
I digress.

Many have.
Look to Club 27.
They had 1400 weeks before digressing.
Hitler and Bin Laden - 3000.
So young. So nasty.
Einstein was young - 1316
Newton was old at - 1639
Relatively speaking.
Johnny went across the universe at week 2037;
Elvis left the building at 2164;
JFK left us weak at 2377.
(My knees, my knees)
Mozart and Beethoven were composing by 364.
(I was reading about Dick, Jane and Spot at 364)

Ageing is returning to Standard Time.
The weeks get shorter.
The well-spring of the 3000 week phrase:
Youth is wasted on the young.
All 156 weeks of it.

Me. I have 1040 til 80.
Then,1800 DAYS til 85.
Then, get out the stop watch
And count the hours and minutes.
The timer's thumb is poised to press.
I'll settle for thousandths of seconds by then,
Before meeting the Omni-chronologist,
The Author of the Eternal Almanac.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: death
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Francie Lynch

Francie Lynch

Monaghan, Ireland
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