The Autumn of My Life

Summary

The text "The Autumn of My Life" is a reflective piece exploring the author's desire for departure and solitude amidst the overload of stories and history, as they confront the realities of aging and societal issues.

Abstract

The poem "The Autumn of My Life" delves into the author's internal struggle and yearning for a personal exodus. It conveys a deep-seated need to escape the cacophony of narratives and the burden of history, seeking instead a tranquil space free from the invasive nature of modern life. The author expresses a weariness of constant interaction and the pain of witnessing societal prejudices. The poem also touches on the physical and emotional toll of life's journey, with the author feeling the weight of their experiences as they enter the autumn of their life. The text serves as a response to a prompt titled "Exodus," inspired by Lucille Clifton's words, "i am the bush. i am burning. i am not consumed."

Opinions

The author feels an overwhelming urge to leave behind the noise of everyday life and the stories that come with it.
There is a sense of fatigue from dealing with societal issues, such as racism and historical burdens.
The author expresses a desire to disengage from the world, no longer wanting to absorb or care about the stories and faces they encounter.
The poem reflects a longing for peace and simplicity, away from the complexities and conflicts of society.
The author acknowledges the physical signs of aging and the emotional exhaustion that comes with reaching the autumn years of life.
Despite the weariness, there is an appreciation for cherished moments that bring light to the author's life.
The text suggests a need for personal space and reflection, emphasizing the importance of self-care and the right to disconnect when overwhelmed.

My exodus: A Dead Poets Live prompt

I have this urge inside me To get up and go, just go. Not a passing away Or a dropping out, But a going away With an embrace, My embrace.

I no longer want To be absorbed By stories on legs Or faces on distorted screens, Left to fend off an invasion. I have my own living-room Filled to the brim With every item shouting Its story at me.

And I am not the mother Of scruffy shoes Or uncoated frozen souls, With no reprieve From this multi-story overload.

I do not want to know And I do not want to care. I no longer want to tread On layers upon layers of history History gone and re-emerging As graveyards, With me hopping over death.

My knees are paining me.

Nor do I want to drown In a pool of cess, Grasping at straws Of truth and kindness.

I do not want to listen To a black girl telling me Her college best friend Intends to bring up Her future children In a migrant-free zone, As she was brought up, Irish and pure. With no foreigner On the white horizon To soil the landscape, My dearest friend.

My ears are deafening me

You see, I’ve been there, I’ve heard it all, I’ve seen it all On my travels Throughout the land. These sad deflated eyes Of distraught souls.

The miserable wife At the checkout With her straggly Unkempt hair, Screened behind dark glasses And her angry, Fist-clenching, Bleary-eyed partner

Yes, there are good things, I know, which fill me with light, Such cherished moments Of fleeting delight But I am tired now and wish To lay down my shield and go. The nights are darker, And I have reached The Autumn of my life.

Just bring me the bellows To pump up my shoulders, Before the cold sets in.

Thank you, David S. for your thought-provoking prompt: Exodus

The Autumn of My Life

My exodus: A Dead Poets Live prompt

Prompt: Exodus

“i am the bush. i am burning. i am not consumed.” Lucille Clifton