New Years' Day Poetry Blogging

I love New Years' Day. I love the fresh start. I love cracking open a clean, new calendar, full of possibly wonderful days, accomplishments, chances to get it right. I always have.

My brilliant friend, E., makes only fun resolutions at this time of year: going to acrobat school, learning to mix perfect cocktails, eating at each of the Washingtonian's 100 Best Restaurants. Her theory is that if you need to lose weight you can just decide to do that when you realize that you need to do it. But E. is an Aries, and starting things is, shall we say, not a problem for her. Me, I hit the laziness trifecta of the Horoscope and I love the hit of energy that the New Year can give me.

Joanna Colbert recently wrote about what seems to me like a genius idea: choosing a word or theme for the year, as opposed to just listing a bunch of unrelated resolutions.

I'm picking "Vitality!"

Chasing Vitality by Lloyd Lofthouse

The wake-up call arrived
In 1981,
While swimming
In a bottle of Scotch
With mouth open.

The alarm was
A mountain hike
Followed by
Stiff, hellish,
Lactic acid pain,
A week of aching agony!

Thirty-six pounds overweight,
One for each year;
Popping anti-acids
And pain ‘killers’
like candy kisses;
Shooting pains
Cramping fingers;
Not exercising;
Endless sinus infections
Due to chemical
Classroom exposures.
Wheezing!
Afraid to sleep!
Might never awake!

That mountain hike pushed
Me over the edge.

It was a long fall
From carnivore to vegan
Escaping eggs, milk and meat;
Giving up whiskey;
Being chased by
Sodas, pizza
And beer
In ‘bad’ dreams.


After that transformation,
Most of the pain was left
In the sun blasted dust
Climbing endless
Mountain trails.

Sage advice:
“To eat what you don’t want,
drink what you don’t like
and do what you’d rather not.”
— Mark Twain

After a few months of distress,
It gets easy.

I met a couple in line at
Orion’s Express vegan fast food
In Pasadena, California.
He showed me his
Stroke scars
Where the doctor
Cracked his chest.

It’s all about restraint
Instead of Sinatra singing,
“I did it my way”
For people headed
Toward an early grave
Like my brother, Richard.

Why not hunt for
The Vampire Lestat?
Summon him
And seek the true
Fountain of Youth.

Could it be that
Ponce De Leon was looking
In the wrong places
Leading us astray?

******

What word would you like to define the coming year for you?

Picture found here.