"Simply Seventy Two
(2025 Birthday Poem)"
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri

04/30/2025
8:54 p.m. pdt

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In three more hours, the clock turns 
Beltane becomes, we celebrate the first of May
And at around 5:30am the birthday comes around again
This time 72
And with it the (sometime) annual poem is written
As it has been for decades, 
And hopefully will be for some years hence

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Earlier in the year, I had a dream
Or a premonition
Or a nightmare thought
that I would die during my 72nd year
I tried to forget this as an errant horrible musing
but of course it burrowed into my brain all year

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Last night I had another dream
A dream where I was finally preparing for mortality
Something I've been putting off perhaps
So I've realized that the premonition 
wasn't that death was imminent this year
but that the preparation for the end should be

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As a single, un attached soul, I need to prepare
As singularly and as attached as I am always
With all manner of life decisions

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But enough doom and gloom
May Day is the separation of light and dark
The annual rite of Spring
We fill baskets with flowers
And dance round the May Pole
Rebirth
Regrowth
Release
Reimagination
Reward

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Simply satisfied
Simply serene
Simply in tune with the time and the scene
Simply Seventy Two

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And counting...slowly
 

 

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"When We Pass"

Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri

05-19-2025

05:51 a.m. pdt

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With age comes wisdom, 
Wealth of knowledge,
Wonderful memories of the past
And
Warily eyeing the inevitable

Those who sired me passed
so long ago I rarely think of them
Favored friends kept passing
at a somewhat alarming rate
as I became more stalwart
and sturdy while aging

Living in a "senior community"
now for almost two decades
means witnessing the passing
of dozens of friends and neighbors,
spying the red brigade of firetrucks
and EMS vehicles on my walks 
with steady frequency

At least I can still walk strong
And I rarely stop to think
(or don't want to) 
that I seem the same as always
Don't I? As I worry and wander
along life's rock filled path,
Noticing the rocks become boulders
Boulders blocking and burying so much ahead 

Mortality's subtle reminder 
Appears within a social media post
Another friend from long ago has passed
Was it just yesterday we reconnected?
I remember the message on my phone
Then making arrangements for a lunch.
A lunch which lasted hours, 
as we reminisced, as the sky darkened,
and we vowed to reconnect again

That was four years ago
And now she too, has passed
Dear Cheri, I will miss you
Your journey here has ended
Still feeling grief, and the final confusion
Knowing we all have to pass
Knowing that we reconnect in eternity
Knowing that the poetry of our souls
Will soon end with the last line
I write this last line in fond memory of you

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"Falling In Love All Over Again"

Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
09/05/2025

05:30 p.m. pdt

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The youthful yearnings of the modern heart
Part and parcel of digital timestamped memory 
Newfound love, heartaching or fulsome, accessed via
Galleries of sharp imagery outlining future memories

Categorizing the times and traumas of youth is simple today
Those of us from a previous time didn't memorialize 
Everything in pictures
Now if those pictures don't exist, time plays tricks 
And long ago lost loves lose their spark 
After quite a few decades

I never saved many old photos of those long ago girls and women
In my life whom I loved or worshipped
Those vibrant loves of youth
In many and most time framed instances
Only faded memories remain of what might have been faded photographs 
In fact memory relates that most fragile almost forgotten photos 
Might never in fact have existed at all.

Fickle fallacies of youth. 
There are a few small, square, high school portraits remaining
Dog eared, watermarked, saved in rotting wallets for decades
Perhaps longed for and looked at again and again
A long long time ago 
And kept, placed in favored places on favored shelves
But never longed for as in youth
As the yellowed photos faded fast in time

Remaining the aging bachelor, the loner in life,
Looking back I find those yellowed stamp sized images
And wonder about the love lost through time
That I simply cannot see

I remember their names
Laughs, smiles and postures
Conversations and subtle pleasures
May reappear and urge the longing to exist again
But the shining portraits for the most part 
Do not paint a picture which in memory seemed
At one time vibrant with movement and emotion

Today, the youthful yearnings of the modern age are instant
But my now aging yearnings all but disappeared 
On those crooked shelves
In those yellowed portraits 
In those fading forgotten memories

Until now

When one of the old crooked watermarked portraits 
Can be digitally enhanced, 
And the old love and heartache can return a hundredfold
When the enhancement spurs the memories
And those long ago girls and women live and breathe again
I find myself looking at a smile I remember
Now clearly from over a half century ago
And yes, even though I thought perhaps love would never touch me again
It does
I find myself falling in love all over again
 

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"1970 Was Just Yesterday"

Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
comment written on a social media post in 2025

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1970 was just yesterday, once brimming youth sharply defined
1980 was a blur, too many drugs, life left behind
1990 to 95 is best forgotten, a bad relationship in hell
2000 is a quarter century ago? Oh my God I remember it well
2010, advancement on the job, and the middle of my internet years
2015 depression and suicidal thoughts, best forgotten fears
2017 cannot be over 10 years ago, whew, no, it's not
2018 brought new hopes and dreams of retirement, a new start
2020 brought a stop to new hopes and dreams, and almost life itself
2021 I vowed to create my own reality, filled with inner wealth
2022 was three years ago, when I retired from job and stress
2025 is today, the sun is shining, no matter what: I feel real blessed

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"Thank You"
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
11/27/25
7:47 a.m. pst

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A thank you from all over the world
And a thank you from my place at home
My thanks eradicate worries, fears
I'm thankful for this and for that

I thank you for the travels and the means to get around
To soar into the heavens and to feel the earthly ground
To feel the warmth of Cosmo's sun, the power of the sea
Enveloped in God's fine full plan, open freely to you and me

Thank you to all the people I have met, 
hailed, listened and learned from
Every soul has taught me lessons 
From the magnificent to the humdrum

I burst with fulsome feeling, 
Yes I've written that before
And I will proclaim it again and again
No matter what else is in store,
Because I cannot give enough thanks 
to the foreigners and to we yanks
To the immigrants and the refugees
To the earth itself and it's geologic memories

This spinning orb of rock and water
Home to the strong, and the weak too as we falter
Although humankind stops after miniscule years
While here I'll give thanks for the canny clear cares

Mahalo, Obrigado, Arigato, 
Děkuji, Danke, 
Köszönöm, 
Cheers,
Go raibh maith agat

A thank you in languages I don't understand
A thank you wherever I roam
My thanks fill the cup to the brim
I will always be thankful for that