Thursday, February 7, 2013

In Lesson

image borrowed from bing

In Lesson

“I have an almost religious zeal for the Internet,
which is for me, the nervous system of Mother
Earth--which I see as a living creature linking up.”
--Dan Millman

When I hit 60,
I was breaking a lot of speed limits
and embarking on my sweetest decade,
a sexagenarian techno-voyage of discovery.

I barely knew my way around the Net,
only possessed utilitarian quasi-luddite skills,
and when I could clearly see Retirement
skipping along the horizon like a wild thing
to be captured and cultivated before
I could integrate it into my life,

somehow it dawned on me
that my ignorance was both
intolerable and unnecessary.

I needed to dig in, to shed light
on those dark mysterious gaps
in my supposed wisdom--
not just be content to play
on my still young blog site;

for I hungered to tackle obstacles,
needed to participate in the shining vastness
of International Fellowship,
to seek out those unknown treasures
I had heard about in hushed whispers,

to introduce myself
as writer, loose cannon, liberal, budding photographer,
boomer, teacher, and former actor.

Nothing less than an intense training regiment;
in bed by 8 p.m.--up at 3 a.m.,
boots on the ground before sunrise,
wheels on the freeway before
the vehicle hordes gathered,
sliding stealth-fully clean
through zero dark thirty
like a mind missile on a drone mission;

giving myself two full hours to study,
to play, to create a cherished future;
getting my morning pump by writing
more poetry, introducing myself
to Facebook, YouTube, & then Twitter,
gleefully garnering new friends,
mostly artists and poets,
mixed liberally with old friends,
rocketing across the years,
reinstating personal connections
that were vague, hoary, covered
in dust bunnies and spider webs,
reaching back and reaching forward

flying high and getting low,
getting absolutely addicted,
but truly digging it, with that
cyber-hook swallowed, its tendrils
bulging in my proud cheeks,

shaking like a cat shitting tacks,
excited, stimulated, satiated
as I leaped into the dark sink hole
that opened up yawning before me,
dropping like a sack of rocks
before finding that I had wings
under my shirt, butterflies in my pockets,
birdsong bursting in my chest,

becoming radiantly aware that with what
was left of my lifetime I would never
hit the bottom, never arrive
in China.

Glenn Buttkus

February 2013

Posted over on dVerse Poets MTB

Would you like to hear the author read this poem to you?


Claudia said...

ha...that made me smile..the internet is a cool playground for sure.. i'm so glad that i started my blog one day...what would i have missed... wings
under the shirt and butterflies in the pockets...i like..

annell said...

You tell it for us all...that could have been my story (a little) I liked it!

Brian Miller said... has def become a doorway for me to meet so many wonderful people...i never would have believed that a few years ago...its pretty funny to think back as well at the early ventures into the net as well...and then how dependant we are on it now as well..

Frank Watson said...

I love the idea of starting your childhood at 60 and then growing up to be who you want to be.

hyperCRYPTICal said...

For many years I would not entertain computing - didn't want to know despite my sons telling me of the wonderful world of the internet.

And finally I bowed and do so regret the time I refused it entry into my life.

I have developed friendships with some wonderful people as the world has opened up before me - and now I think very much as Dan Millman.

Anna :o]

Anonymous said...

Terrific storytelling here. I just got hooked and just kept reading and am so glad I did. I was terrfied of computers and the net, so I can empathise on that score.

Raivenne said...

Such gifted story telling here. I love when your "childhood" begins here. Ah but we adults not born with a joystick and keyboard in our hands all first approach this newfangled technology with the near same wonder a child, no?

" becoming radiantly aware that with what
was left of my lifetime I would never
hit the bottom, never arrive
in China."

Radiantly aware - how I love that. I say keep digging and rise!

George Polley said...

A beautiful poem, Glenn

Anonymous said...

Lovely storytelling here - and I'm so glad that you enrolled in U3A and took classes in computing because it means I can enjoy your writing :-)

Eusebia Philotes said...

60. Nice. It's just a number. Right? Pretty cool that each of us has to choose when we will truly begin living our lives. Glad you chose this way. Loved following the images of your path.

Heidi said...

"Shaking like a cat shitting tacks"- Hilarious! I love the voice in this poem, very funny. I also like the fear and excitement that you have captured here. New journeys are usually both scary and exciting.

Friko said...

keep digging, Glen, you may yet reach Chine. And just think of all the lovely people you’ll meet on the way.

I like this, it’s me too.

Victoria said...

Glen, I saw bravo to us old farts who have, to a certain extent, ventured out into cyberspace. The world is at our fingertips, now...let's keep digging!

Susie Clevenger said...

Ah this sounds like me, although I started a little earlier. And how wonderful it is for those who have come to know you through the net that your childhood began when it did.

lucychili said...

a new world, imagined and shared, a new childhood adventure, learning

Dave King said...

I understand this entirely. Your first stanza could be about me. The difference being that as I was in teaching, I both had to "get into" web-ways and had the opportunity to do so. A great write which I thoroughly enjoyed reading.

S.E.Ingraham said...

I think, as Dave before me says, you could be writing for many of us ... I love how you write about embracing this time of your life, and so royally with such vigor ... now that 60 appears to be the new 40 (with people living to be 100+ becoming almost the norm rather than an anomaly)- it's important, I think, to figure out a game plan for the final third of life because there most likely (fates be kind) will be one.

Anonymous said...

ahhh wings and butterflies- and the new adventure - wonderful! K