Aging poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of aging poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on aging are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
The world slows down. That’s a good thing. Priorities change, also good. The rat race fades into memory. It’s now time to appreciate things. Let the next generation battle to climb the ladder, keep their heads above water. Time for
A vehicle is here for your review: A 1946 used hatchback heart. Not near as shiny as when it was new, But all the parts are there and it will start. It’s true it needs a lot of body work
I’ve become aware I can time-travel, particle-physics has long posited this, Stephen Hawking admits it’s possible, even likely. It starts out this way, drowsing on my front room sofa TV tuned down, & in just a moment an hour and
My head is in a real bad state My memory is running late I feel like I am going mad My eyesight now is really bad My teeth have now come to an end Impossible to ever mend My confidence
If I forget spring, bruise my face with grass to meld with soil in prescience of later ritual. If I forget summer, drip on my tongue the blood of fresh berries, and the insolent taste of mint. If I forget
The Poet Turns 100 In Honor of Stanley Kunitz When my body wears to dust let the remains be language find only verbs at the core struck flints from explosive ore nouns charged with names of foes and lovers cool
when your flesh, leave your bones. when your eyelids, become heavy to be worn. when your skin, don’t shine like a fin. when your hands, tremble holding cans. when your mouth, stops uttering words. when your shin, cant help any
I had always wondered why the sun rose in a distance and pondered if I will ever have a son I always stood far away wishing I was closer, not just a poser, why I chased and wanted a girl
Amazing how Time elapsed Just yesterday it seems I was playing with other kids in the sand To day I see myself coughing and trembling at the dust of the sand I feel I am not even a competitor to
Happiness lies in : Finding joy in little things, Every little blessing, Significance of the insignificant, Enjoying every moment of life. Graceful aging with beauty, Gazes growing with love, Waking up to a new dawn, Admiring the tiniest things. Moments
She drags her tired heels across the tainted floor Her poise held taut though her back is sore She holds on her face a cold marble stare A hard life engraved upon cheeks once so fair Her movements; once grace
A motley group had made an affiliation of sorts It sprouted and mushroomed in our back lane And there was born a poetry club with no name Passion it was for the verses written in Urdu That linked them beyond
Old-man-poet! Write from the heart; Reboot the world; make it new again! Turn its white hoary head with a start; Spin a poem of ablative gain! Let ablution be the God-ablated birth; Let it unravel the umbilical whorl That winds
Rows and rows of books wearing pressed monogrammed jackets aligned at attention upon the shelves edges stained lightly by time. To wring out one more droplet of thought from drying script These aging eyes thirst to caress sweet ebony lines
The tree covered path had me but the light, Intrigued my senses so i pushed through the fright, Crackling branches above aging before falling through, Only one entrance, i’d prefer two. Tilting my head i seemingly entered another time.. i
My looks are nothing special, My face reveals my age. My body shows some wear and tear, And my energy’s not the same. Too often my memory fails me, And I lose things all the time. One minute I know
She looks at me with soulful eyes;her brows raised in a question She looks almost like she is smiling,all I have to do is make the suggestion Don”t even have to say a word,Just pick up the leash and put
The full Moon is on wane Shedding her last attic glory on Earth And every aspect of Earth’s being Scorched too much in blazing Sun, Enjoying the Moonshine bath like budding spinsters Drenching in swelling teenage mirth. The air is
Now I remember, My math’s teacher asking a question, And I just had to look around, It didn’t have to be me! We were so many in the classroom, And so did they, I call it today Group think virus
Page 1. the celebrated sailing frog from Montgomery County went a court’n, or so the tale iz toad to a grand ole mansion built around 1910, and e’en ‘pon being razed ~2012 ah no dummy sea worthiness still plainly showed,
Airliners fell fat like poisoned bumble bees breasting their way into parking lots and highways plowing up concrete furrows tipped with shiny and jagged vehicles trimmed in flame I wake in a light sweat to a fluxuating grumble wondering at
The hurt begins to move and meets in a funeral procession. For aging fireworks this was the last chance, but lake had dried up. There was no fall tonight of the moon All the stars had gone for a memorial
For everything, there is a season, it has been foretold. When I was young and green, securely clinging to the branches of my family Sugar Maple tree, I thought it was the best I would ever be. But here, now,
Like the little droplets humming down the shore, and the yellow sparkles moving free to the core, dismayed to unbind the lore since ages, I want to stay amidst the phases. Shrinking and shivering beneath your arms, prime the relevance;
The coming of a that to dismantle the comb, unstilling trees under tracer bullets swaying in embrace for moonmilk. The unzipped planktons in sea open their mouth to supermoon for a night dive in a green passion. Does it need
The full Moon is on wane Shedding her last attic glory on Earth And every aspects of Earth’s being Scorched too much in blazing Sun, Enjoying the Moonshine bath like budding spinsters Drenching in swelling teenage mirth. The air is
Anger turns you away Holding that poison within your mind Your body and soul consumes you It diminishes your aura like acid And you allow this person to always be a factor To be the bigger person you have to
Life has lots of phases, some awesome some tough days. It has a lesson in every stage,no matter how hard those. You will not get time to do those,which is pending since long days. New day ,new task ,new problems
=========================================== A story of the glory—– especially if you’re a tyke—– of how to help your clueless parents distinguish between being childish, or the so much better…. child-like! While barely at the age of three quite the clever lad, indeed,
I have no sad delusion life will end, though I’ll move on Into endogenetic, and the stillness from which we were born To lie there undisturbed, Earth Mother cradles us until she’s gone These thoughts all race across my mind,
I was dreaming in silence A wave of division woke me up The wave was concocted The wave was fabricated The wave changed everything From religion, politics, traditions and faith The wave said you were misled The wave said you
What is it that gives some people power and others none? Why is it some use power to hurt while others to help? Why are some imbued with a will that can dominate? Using it as a power to keep
suddenly I stood still in time I mean the air breathed for me the sky fed me and I quietly absorbed everything that was offered floated in awareness saw what I had not seen ever before felt infinite spaces between
I took an unfamiliar trail Through a forest that wasn’t there Green sky, red trees and all But at least I wore my wing tips And as I studied the blue dirt Tiny footprints appeared They did But I was
Well and in the season of El Nino the grey ones came I felt the earth shake violently and winds of a hurricane he whispered an ancient gypsy curse and drove her insane they made the headlines underneath the one
A woman and a river know not how much depth she carries, know not which way she turns know not how many mysteries hidden in bosom beauty lies in her mystic curves and eternal flow a woman and a river
Well I awoke this morning to the sound Of rain just a pouring down and the echo Of THE LEOPARD’S SCREAM and I hung My head in dread knowing today would be The end of many innocent lives, a bloodbath
do you think 10 years from now you will remember me ? my voice ? the feel of my hand in your hand ? have you forgotten all of that already ? im leaving your life for now thank you
No matter how many times I give my heart to someone they always seem to break it still that never does seem to keep me down for long though I have had my share of tears through the years I
This mistake no question, turned into the greatest gain. I fell for you so damn hard, long before I learned your name. I can’t help that I fall in love, every time you come through my door. I don’t know
A lovely day With a bit sun ray, Green area with tree Corner full of bee, Roaming to collect honey. Nothing felt well When my pocket is out of money. Felt so sad But not so bad. Went on the
