Poems about Aging
#aging
Poems about aging and the aging process. Poetry about what it's like to watch family and loved ones get older. Poems about aging includes everything from a midlife crisis, to our twilight years.
LunaGreyhawk
Poem Published
26th Sep 2021 00:59am
26th Sep 2021 00:59am
Lost Girl
where does the little girl go?
where does she go?
I want to tell her it’s ok to need the wind
whipping through her long, wild hair
when her soft, bare feet have
grown calloused, running
out of lush, green grass and
her face no longer basks
unapologetically in the sun
where does she go?
I want to tell her it’s ok to need to be held
by those supposed to love you most
when her arms cease reaching
upwards to be cradled against
her mother’s breast,
and her chin becomes too wise ...
where does she go?
I want to tell her it’s ok to need the wind
whipping through her long, wild hair
when her soft, bare feet have
grown calloused, running
out of lush, green grass and
her face no longer basks
unapologetically in the sun
where does she go?
I want to tell her it’s ok to need to be held
by those supposed to love you most
when her arms cease reaching
upwards to be cradled against
her mother’s breast,
and her chin becomes too wise ...
#aging
12 reads
4 Comments
SOPOETIC
M.O.A.N.S
M.O.A.N.S
Poem Published
24th Sep 2021 2:09pm
24th Sep 2021 2:09pm
Looking Through
I keep seeing flashes of light shadows in the corners of my eyes
I tell myself they are spirits of loved ones come fallen from the skies
I find myself staring into thin air like trying to trick their ghosts
I pretend that I can see them and hope they're the ones I love the most
I wonder where my modernity distaste came from in this empty house
I wither away at procrastination and steal the cheese from the second mouse
I feel the vibrance of my mind drain away with every anti-pyschotic pill
I touch myself as avid as...
I tell myself they are spirits of loved ones come fallen from the skies
I find myself staring into thin air like trying to trick their ghosts
I pretend that I can see them and hope they're the ones I love the most
I wonder where my modernity distaste came from in this empty house
I wither away at procrastination and steal the cheese from the second mouse
I feel the vibrance of my mind drain away with every anti-pyschotic pill
I touch myself as avid as...
#love
#sex
#ghosts #aging
#ghosts #aging
30 reads
0 Comments
Baldwin
Poem Published
23rd Sep 2021 2:59pm
23rd Sep 2021 2:59pm
This Body
I’ve lived within this body,
this frailing thing,
for over sixty years.
I think now that I know its ways
and all it holds inside itself;
the stories of its wants, its faults,
fragilities and strengths.
It has become
a narrative that is
utterly predictable,
a book I’ve memorized.
It cannot, even when it’s bold,
bring fire or a surprise to me.
We are now like settled friends.
But then, but then
on some incertain winter’s night
that’s yet to come, or other day
that’s close, I...
this frailing thing,
for over sixty years.
I think now that I know its ways
and all it holds inside itself;
the stories of its wants, its faults,
fragilities and strengths.
It has become
a narrative that is
utterly predictable,
a book I’ve memorized.
It cannot, even when it’s bold,
bring fire or a surprise to me.
We are now like settled friends.
But then, but then
on some incertain winter’s night
that’s yet to come, or other day
that’s close, I...
#aging
20 reads
6 Comments
TimWombles
Poem Published
23rd Sep 2021 2:59am
23rd Sep 2021 2:59am
When You Get Old
I've watched as all my friends faded away
Spent too much time mourning at their graves
That suit I never got to wear when I was young
Is getting pretty worn, it's time is about done
Whether or not, I want to admit it
My time on earth is going to be limited
I wish I could leave a thread of wisdom
The mouth is open but the words never come
Besides, no one cares what an old man thinks
Can't say I blame them, but it still stinks
Thought it would be a big deal to make it this far
Thought I'd win an award, maybe they'd give me a car ...
Spent too much time mourning at their graves
That suit I never got to wear when I was young
Is getting pretty worn, it's time is about done
Whether or not, I want to admit it
My time on earth is going to be limited
I wish I could leave a thread of wisdom
The mouth is open but the words never come
Besides, no one cares what an old man thinks
Can't say I blame them, but it still stinks
Thought it would be a big deal to make it this far
Thought I'd win an award, maybe they'd give me a car ...
#aging
28 reads
14 Comments
Joshsam
Poem Published
22nd Sep 2021 9:44pm
22nd Sep 2021 9:44pm
Moments passing.
Lost in moments.
Inner turmoil of.
Screaming silence.
Eroding stamina.
Eclipsing hope.
Alone and wayward.
Seperation now strangling.
Shadows extend.
In winters bitterest end.
Crushing flowers.
Tightening veins.
Piecing weakened hearts.
A life-force depleted.
Each breath swallowing.
Pupils discolour.
Losing essence.
Skin constricts.
A mind in freefall.
With flashes of memory.
Black and white landmarks.
Now.
Moments.
Passing.
Inner turmoil of.
Screaming silence.
Eroding stamina.
Eclipsing hope.
Alone and wayward.
Seperation now strangling.
Shadows extend.
In winters bitterest end.
Crushing flowers.
Tightening veins.
Piecing weakened hearts.
A life-force depleted.
Each breath swallowing.
Pupils discolour.
Losing essence.
Skin constricts.
A mind in freefall.
With flashes of memory.
Black and white landmarks.
Now.
Moments.
Passing.
#loneliness
#death
#aging
24 reads
2 Comments
LostViking
Lost Viking
Lost Viking
Poem Published
22nd Sep 2021 12:25pm
22nd Sep 2021 12:25pm
Frozen in Time: Faded Polaroid
The cardboard cigar box smelled of attic dust. I opened it with reverence.
My father, now dead, seemed frozen in time to me as an older man, but the Polaroid image in my hand showed him at sixteen, staring at a sender girl in a white bathing suit.
Was this my father, his eyes filled with such grown-up desire?
Her face seemed innocent but determined, and I thought, beautiful.
On the back of the Polaroid, he’d inked, “Susan 1980.”
I held the thick edge and looked at their faces, frozen in time.
How long must life have looked to them as they...
My father, now dead, seemed frozen in time to me as an older man, but the Polaroid image in my hand showed him at sixteen, staring at a sender girl in a white bathing suit.
Was this my father, his eyes filled with such grown-up desire?
Her face seemed innocent but determined, and I thought, beautiful.
On the back of the Polaroid, he’d inked, “Susan 1980.”
I held the thick edge and looked at their faces, frozen in time.
How long must life have looked to them as they...
#love
#sex
#aging #FirstLove
#aging #FirstLove
48 reads
3 Comments
javalini
Poem Published
19th Sep 2021 8:24pm
19th Sep 2021 8:24pm
AGE
ain't nothing left
but paint the shed
cut trees
in the thicket
out front
let some light in
julliet says
she's writing a novel
and i admit
i'm jealous
of her youth
but only for a minute
i think about all the stories
the poems
the sculpture
the efforts
and know
that somehow
this was meant to be --
me
old
pushing the mower
fixing the door
and the toilet
and the faucet,
still leaking
taking care
of business ...
but paint the shed
cut trees
in the thicket
out front
let some light in
julliet says
she's writing a novel
and i admit
i'm jealous
of her youth
but only for a minute
i think about all the stories
the poems
the sculpture
the efforts
and know
that somehow
this was meant to be --
me
old
pushing the mower
fixing the door
and the toilet
and the faucet,
still leaking
taking care
of business ...
#peace
#confessional
#aging
22 reads
9 Comments
Faith
Poem Published
19th Sep 2021 6:36pm
19th Sep 2021 6:36pm
Old photographs
On screens and on paper
all those who have gone before
oblivious and busy in their doings
never dreamed they would only be caught
in screens and in paper
for sceptical eyes
years from their now.
But they have all gone before
and now I am King
and it’s all mine
and it’s only mine
and it will only ever be mine
and I am the only one
and I am busy
I’m busy
I’m busy
in my oblivious busy-ness
Our fate is sealed
on screens and on paper
for sceptical eyes
years from our now.
all those who have gone before
oblivious and busy in their doings
never dreamed they would only be caught
in screens and in paper
for sceptical eyes
years from their now.
But they have all gone before
and now I am King
and it’s all mine
and it’s only mine
and it will only ever be mine
and I am the only one
and I am busy
I’m busy
I’m busy
in my oblivious busy-ness
Our fate is sealed
on screens and on paper
for sceptical eyes
years from our now.
#death
#humankind
#LifeCycle #aging
#LifeCycle #aging
27 reads
2 Comments
thinlane
Poem Published
17th Sep 2021 11:16am
17th Sep 2021 11:16am
Fast Mover
Making long term plans at my age
Is like daring the fates
To take their best shot
Supreme arrogance at its most sublime
I'm going to live forever
If I don't slow down
Nobody makes it out alive
But me.
Is like daring the fates
To take their best shot
Supreme arrogance at its most sublime
I'm going to live forever
If I don't slow down
Nobody makes it out alive
But me.
#death
#aging
19 reads
1 Comment
dartford
Paul S...
Paul S...
Poem Published
14th Sep 2021 00:20am
14th Sep 2021 00:20am
being both over sixty
she says but I’m older than you. can you honestly say that you still find me attractive? I say oh shut up and kiss me
#love
#wife
#husband
#marriage
#aging
36 reads
3 Comments
Baldwin
Poem Published
13th Sep 2021 4:38pm
13th Sep 2021 4:38pm
approaching another birthday
I’m wondering now if others of my age
feel their reserves of energy,
and their ability
for pleasure and for pleasuring
have grown too thin
for measurement,
and that against the world’s vicissitudes
they’ve lost within themselves
their sense of density,
that there’s duration left
within their lives.
I wonder, too.
if they, like me, have given up all hope
to be remade, arrayed, displayed,
in joy.
feel their reserves of energy,
and their ability
for pleasure and for pleasuring
have grown too thin
for measurement,
and that against the world’s vicissitudes
they’ve lost within themselves
their sense of density,
that there’s duration left
within their lives.
I wonder, too.
if they, like me, have given up all hope
to be remade, arrayed, displayed,
in joy.
#aging
22 reads
0 Comments
Scorpio
Poem Published
10th Sep 2021 12:17pm
10th Sep 2021 12:17pm
Going Home
I miss you Baby
The world is so cold
Since you've gone away
I've grown tired and old
You wouldn't recognize me
I don't look the same
All these lines on my face
And my hairs gone grey
My voice has grown husky
And my legs are lame
My body's a wreck
It's a crying shame
So, come get me Honey
I'm tired of being alone
Leave all this pain behind
I'm ready to come home
The world is so cold
Since you've gone away
I've grown tired and old
You wouldn't recognize me
I don't look the same
All these lines on my face
And my hairs gone grey
My voice has grown husky
And my legs are lame
My body's a wreck
It's a crying shame
So, come get me Honey
I'm tired of being alone
Leave all this pain behind
I'm ready to come home
#sadness
#depression
#death
#rhyming
#aging
70 reads
6 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems about Aging
