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
You never touch the ground neither go round and round hung up for a very different use your job now to make them amuse after retirement a change of fate now into swinging than erstwhile rotate sure I’m for this
What were the lies in a truth of the buried day? Fabulous cries? Tears? It was a tremble down in the standing crop of men ready to be genetically modified. Each walk in the city exhausts you to an innocent
A futurist virginity in black rose was seeking posthumous award for immoral kisses of thorns. Unaware of lethal thighs skipping the lunar landscape at night. Were you going to leap over the mountains curling across the glaciers of white pain?
I used to be too proud to admit it. I was acting like I was fine. I was smiling. It was a fake smile, but nobody noticed. I’m tired of pretending. I miss you. I openly and plainly miss you.
Jesus, hope for the world Hope for the ones who are Tired and fearful and looking For rest Jesus, glorious and ruling With love and with peace for A world that seeking the God who will redeem and Bring comfort
Every day that goes by I remember when you used to love me and the tears fall like rain from my eyes because no one could ever take your place. Every day I die just a little bit more inside.
Once I stumble upon a tiny kitten Amongst a pool of sweet flowers. Her blue beady eyes peeking through; Gleaming eyes full of wonder, On the side of a lonely road. Hiding neath the cover of flowers, Stealthily she moves
To the gentle heart, have courage. Through trials and chaos of the ever changing wind- Let your heart be like a river , Ever guided, ever flowing. To the fragile heart, have courage. Through starless and blackened nights That cover
Mellow wintry wind starts to blow. From the corner of the sky there is a pinkish glow. A fluttering and dancing rose smiles at the sky. In such ways Lord Jesus opens His eyes. Pink rays of happiness wrap old
Happiness? It’s so sought, so wanted and craved, but it seems so strange, unreachable, so unknown. When you caress someone, your fingerprints don’t remain on the skin of the other- happiness is like fingerprints! Lips burning over the lips of
Stepping in with smile on your lips Hundreds already dreamed of a new relationship! One of them was surely she But didn’t have the courage to express her love plea Seriously, who would date a shy, silent, reticent! Though decent
Well and these days are sad days Not Much of Nothing If Anything To brag about I must say…well the Candles still burn bright, I still live By the moonlight and you, you are Still the love of my life
They breezed past as air of life, Never ever to return I didn’t realise! ‘Moments’ that shaped my today, Experiences that enriched my way A fleeting childhood with siblings, A sidelong path to discover things, A raucous time trying to
No, I can’t see you. I can feel the absence, And the absence is dark. Now, you aren’t addressed. Love calls the souls, But loses your appearance. You are blurred. You now desert. Heart, mind, soul- They are out of
