Okay, I know I;ve been posting some pretty sad and sombre poetry, so here's something lighter instead
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Wired Elderly
(Or, The WiFi Rocking Chair)1.
Hale and hearty
Old Chan looked distressed.
His hand clutching six colored wires
The other wobbling.
His callused hands-
A repository of experiences.
But today, they were
Simply like a neophyteÂ’s.
Once, he enlisted machines,
To help in his labor
Now, fleeting thoughts of despair
Erode his lore and wisdom.
“Re-training, Bah! Boh Liao!
ItÂ’s not economical
To teach an old man
The tools of the young.
Listen to my theory,
The old learn torpidly
While the young are like jets
Breaking ignoranceÂ’s barriers.
They say charity begins at home
I say productivity begins at home
Government says re-training begins at home
I say alternatives begin at home.
Who needs broadband to
Archive a manÂ’s own stuff?
All I need is my trusty
Rubber band.
My grandsonÂ’s in prison
I visit him via Ah LeongÂ’s webcam
I cannot touch his hand
Only the creaky lens.
I need two hundred pages
Of useless help guides
To learn how to
Type two pages.
I was king of the pile
Teachers loved my penmanship
Now IÂ’m berated,
For appalling typing.”
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2.
“I learnt how to surf.
Mind you, it wasnÂ’t at Bondi
I surfed from Changi
And I felt great.
Hell to those
Who deride us oldies,
And for being
Old fogies.
I only hope
My pacemaker from SGH
Does not conflict with
My palmtop called XDA.
Lao Siew from next door
Saw me buying
Kangkong and pek chye online
Wah! Ho seh leh..
Matthew, my grandson
Rolled his eyes
When I ripped
MP3s.
Liberated from solitude,
IrrelevanceÂ’s miasma
And cobwebs of disuse,
I’m finally useful!”
