Aging 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

Every morning The sun rises afresh, I forget why I was so sad The night before. Why there was so much Pain and blood And loneliness In the darkened Speckled night sky. Every morning In my bathroom A determined Toothbrush

I saw a sparrow today–one small, speckled Bird, feathers fluffed against wind-toothy Rain. Driven from the sky by leaden clouds Weeping over densely packed buildings and Cold streets, he picked his dripping way to The curb to stare in blank

A train that once shipped sugar, from field to port, rattled, slow as a slave ship, through Antiguan hills, with elderly Americans, old money, all pearl chokers and Pringle sweaters, filling the front seats of the open top carriage, and

Knock knock knock!! He knocked the door with fear The night was not so dark not so bright The moon was hiding its face Behind the thin cloud The road was alone The wind was cold Nobody answered behind the

Broken,shattered and lost with loneliness deep in my roots I don’t wish for any spring because I am tired of humans. the people who were my blood, my friends have changed with time like weather and I am unable to

She knows That he knows That she knows He watches her! His silent eyes With a tip-off arrogance Makes him one of a kind. Her soothing smile With a pinch of grieve Sticks her out in a mile. A vain

Her wings were tidy, a little flutter now and then, She was always so close, to finally grasp her dream, So, when that day had finally come, that woman’s wings were clipped, She needed to let go, therefore, she flew

Open twenty four seven proclaims the sign across the front door A warm refuge for the bergies dossing on the linoleum floor Fluorescent tube lights hum and flicker The homeless beg for food and hustle for cheap liquor The air

December rain falls in her forest-rich, forest-deep garden, a different kind of house where time has slipped away. New year does not seem to arrive. Or is it a new moon every dusk? Half-resolute, I step into her poetic house,

Hospitals are Bombed mass graves With cold bunkers And shattered artillery. Red army fights the white army Blue army fights the yellow army Drones land on the cranium Submarines torpedo through the aorta. Death is a wheelbarrow You hitch a

Ouch! What a sharp jab? Oh God! What is happening to me? Why should I suffer like this? And you go on and on, Blame Him! Otherwise what can you do better? God has given you everything, Name them, talents,

I want the hair of that Latino boy long in front and swept up an etched obsidian wing to hell with the rest of him slumped, slack, waiting for school day’s start listening with his eyebrows independent as two plump

He stands so tall, and shining bright We marvel at the sight Of one who teaches, sound and true. Who longs for love for me and you From God. Who else could give this gift? This feeling that will surely

Our childhood of yesteryear Fresh and innocent with no fear. We waited with bated breath To peek at our cake that arrived fresh. Our birthday cake, our birthday cake. Moist and warm, chocolate brown Cool and pink, strawberry jam winks