Oh deliciae meae Flatus Antiquus
You still have my heart
Flattered? You should be
My darling Old Fart

Here’s some birthday wrinkinsulting poems I’ve written. The astute ones among you will spot that they’re based on old jokes but I’ve made them rhyme and greetified them. Get lost, spellchecker, that is a word

The doctor said “Have you been bedridden lately”
Much to your surprise
You said “Chance would be a fine thing
Not since hubby was alive”

Bedriding is overated, don’t you think. But having a chuckle is healthy

Have a wonderful birthday

 J©B Jon Bratton
 Wrinkinsults

Old guy, on the freeway, answered his car phone
It was his wife who said “Be careful, Clem
The news says a car is going the wrong way”
“One” he screamed “there’s hundreds of them”

But he, like you, survived to celebrate another birthday
Enjoy

 J©B Jon Bratton
Wrinkinsults

At our age, there’s merit in being
In an impoverished state
Less chance of being declared insane
To gain control of the estate

As it happens, you are mad as a hatter
But poor as a church mouse
And that’s a good thing
You get to keep the house!

Happy Birthday you mad mouse you

 J©B Jon Bratton
Wrinkinsults

You won’t grow old gracefully
You’ll fix boobs, ass, teeth and feet
And only stop having facelifts
When both your ears meet

But no procedure, today....Happy Birthday

 J©B Jon Bratton

You’ve finally made it to (70)
You certainly haven’t hurried
And you’re alive, but only in the sense
You can’t be legally buried

Except by cutting remarks  from cheeky so-called friends like me

Have a lovely birthday

 J©B Jon Bratton
 Wrinkinsults

Your old man is thankful
You’re not like your grandmother, Rose
She buried three husbands
And two were just having a doze
That’s a good wheeze* of yours
To keep him on his toes

Keep on, keeping on
Have a wonderful birthday

 * Wheeze is a Brit slang for a trick, idea, or plan

 J©B Jon Bratton
Wrinkinsults

You’re not really old and feeble
But if a tree you’d lack sap
You get up late and sit about till noon
And then have a nap

Sounds like a good plan to me
Happy Birthday, buddy

J©B Wrinkinsults

You rarely stoop to tie your shoelaces
Occasionally you do, to be fair
But only if you can find another job
To do while you’re down there

Birthday tip: Buy slip ons
Have a good ‘un

J©B Wrinkinsults

Your forgetter's getting better
But your rememberer is broke
To some that may seem funny
But, to you, that's no joke

For when you’re "here" you’re wondering
If you really should be "there"
And, when you try to think it through,
You haven't got a prayer

Oft times you walk into a room,
Say "what am I here for?"
You wrack your brain, but all in vain
A zero, is your score.

At times you put something away
Where it is safe, but, phew!
The person it is safest from
Almost always is you!

When shopping you may see someone,
Say "Hi" and have a chat,
Then, when the person walks away
You ask yourself, "who was that?"

Yes, your forgetter's getting better
While your rememberer is broke,
And it's driving you crazy
And that isn't any joke.

And how do I know all this?
Because I’m the same as you
My forgetter has just now kicked in
Who is this message to?

Whoever you are
Happy (71st) birthday

  J©B Jon Bratton Wrinkinsults

Old man in ice cream parlor pulls himself
Onto a stool, a painful task,  
The waitress, with his order enquires  “Crushed nuts?” 
“No”, said he “arthritis.....
but nice of you to ask"

Happy Birthday
And talking of toppers
Have hundreds and thousands more happy hours on the planet

 J©B Jon Bratton Wrinkinsults

You're a hundred around the golf course
And 42 around the waist
18 around the neck
Reducing numbers are now faced

You take around 8 tablets daily
A round of 4 pints, makes you a hero
And your monthly bouts of rumpy pumpy
Is a nice round number..........
Zero

Have a wonderful (Seven-Zero) Birthday

 J©B Jon Bratton Wrinkinsults

You're at an age for eccentricity
A bow tie would be fine
But here's some fashion no-no's
Never cross this line

Pierced tongue and dentures
And open mouthed laughter
Varicose veins and short shorts
Not a look, sought after

Midriff shirts and midriff bulge
Are acceptable never
Black socks and open sandals
Are OK, not ever

Have a great birthday today
And tomorrow throw all No No's away

 J©B Jon Bratton Wrinkinsults

Even at our advanced age
Life can still surprise
Our only exercise is acting as pallbearer
To friends who did exercise
And if we ever host a party
The neighbours don't realise

We no longer think of speed limits as a challenge
We're older than many historic ruins
We sing along to elevator music
And often dream of prunes
And the (Wal-Mart)(Tesco) bargain bin
Discounts our favorite tunes

Our ears and noses get hairier 
We talk of the price of gas and bread
And we're scared to nap for too long
In case others think we're dead
We used to dream of sex and bed
And now we only dream of bed

 J©B Jon Bratton Wrinkinsults

Everything now is starting to click
Neck, elbows, knees
Now dry dreams but wet farts
And wee with every sneeze

Compared to the alternative
Getting old's OK
And how old you are
I'm determined not to say

Happy (78th) Birthday
Oh buggar!

 J©B Jon Bratton

Welcome to Over-The-HillVille
Now you're sooo very, very old
It's very nice here despite the smell
Of wee, mothballs and mould
Have a wonderful (78th) Birthday

 J©B Jon Bratton Wrinkinsults

Old folk have an evolutionary smell,
Like animals sniffing, says the scientists.
Mind you it's much easier to use eyes
To spot chin hairs and saggy body bits

At your very advanced age
There's one great pleasure
For the first time in your life
You've got no peer pressure

 J©B Jon Bratton Wrinkinsults

When young you want to be
The captain of your soul and master of your fate
When old you want to be
The captain of the bowling team and the master of your weight

J©B

A Wrinkly Love Poem

Here's some stuff that's all over the internet. It's included here for the sake of completeness and convenience

A row of bottles on my shelf
Caused me to analyze myself.
One yellow pill I have to pop
Goes to my heart so it won't stop.

A little white one that I take
Goes to my hands so they won't shake.
The blue ones that I use a lot
Tell me I'm happy when I'm not.

The purple pill goes to my brain
And tells me that I have no pain.
The capsules tell me not to wheeze
Or cough or choke or even sneeze.

The red ones, smallest of them all
Go to my blood so I won't fall.
The orange ones, very big and bright
Prevent my leg cramps in the night.

Such an array of brilliant pills
Helping to cure all kinds of ills.
But what I'd really like to know . . .
Is what tells each one where to go!

**

The Shape I am In...

There's nothing the matter with me,
I'm just as healthy as can be,
I have arthritis in both knees,
And when I talk, I talk with a wheeze.

My pulse is weak, my blood is thin,
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.
All my teeth have had to come out,
And my diet I hate to think about.

I'm overweight and I can't get thin,
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.
And arch supports I need for my feet.
Or I wouldn't be able to go out in the street.

Sleep is denied me night after night,
But every morning I find I'm all right.
My memory's failing, my head's in a spin.
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

Old age is golden - I've heard it said,
But sometimes I wonder, as I go to bed.
With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup,
And my glasses on a shelf, until I get up.

The moral of this as the tale unfolds,
Is that for you and me, who are growing old.
It is better to say "I'm fine" with a grin,
Than to let people know the shape we are in.

**

A is for arthritis,

B is for bad back,

C is for the chest pains. Corned Beef? Cardiac?

D is for dental decay and decline,

E is for eyesight--can't read that top line.

F is for fissures and fluid retention

G is for gas (which I'd rather not mention--

and not to forget other gastrointestinal glitches)

H is high blood pressure

I is for itches, and lots of incisions

J is for joints, that now fail to flex

L is for libido--what happened to sex?

Wait! I forgot about K!

K is for my knees that crack all the time

(But forgive me, I get a few lapses in my

Memory from time to time)

N is for nerve (pinched) and neck (stiff) and neurosis

O is for osteo-for all the bones that crack

P is for prescriptions, that cost a small fortune

Q is for queasiness. Fatal or just the flu?

Give me another pill and I'll be good as new!

R is for reflux--one meal turns into two

S is for sleepless nights,

counting fears on how to pay my medical bills!

T is for tinnitus--I hear bells in my ears

and the word 'terminal' also rings too near

U is for urinary and the difficulties that flow (or not)

V is for vertigo, as life spins by

W is worry, for pains yet unfound

X is for X ray--and what one might find

Y is for year (another one, I'm still alive).

Z is for zest

For surviving the symptoms my body's deployed,

And keeping twenty-six doctors gainfully employed.

**

This next one is part of a poem by Tracey West in her book 'Poetry of Divorce'. As you'll guess it's about potentially meeting a guy after divorce but it's self wrinkinsulting and is included here in return for this plug. Tracey has a great style and I recommend you at least visit Amazon for a look see

Wrinkly Think

Oh what will he think of me wrinkles
My saggy and wobbly bits
My thighs are the size of small tree trunks
And I've stretch marks on them
And me tits

My pubes were all grey, thin and wiry
If he got snagged on them he'd yell 'Ouch!'
So I went to that salon in Bristol
And some sadist with wax
Ripped them out

....My limp boobs I'll hoist up with wired cups...
... me Athlete's Foot's playing up...

etc etc

**