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.
TheOralizer
Poem Published
16th Jan 2021 5:14pm
16th Jan 2021 5:14pm
HIDDING BEHIND MASKS
#fate
#aging
#nostalgia
#luck
#responsibility
18 reads
0 Comments
TheOralizer
Poem Published
15th Jan 2021 9:29pm
15th Jan 2021 9:29pm
WHAT REALLY MATTERS IN THE END?
I have walked on all
the Continents in
the world, all 50 States,
and lost count of the
countries I have visited.
I say this not to impress
but to share what I, not
anyone else, have learned.
It hit me right between
the eyes a few years ago
as I heard what a group
of wealthy men said in the
last days in the terminal ward;
soon to face death.
They were all rich and
among the who's who
in society. In their last days
they were asked what,
when looking back really
mattered?
Was it their yachts,...
the Continents in
the world, all 50 States,
and lost count of the
countries I have visited.
I say this not to impress
but to share what I, not
anyone else, have learned.
It hit me right between
the eyes a few years ago
as I heard what a group
of wealthy men said in the
last days in the terminal ward;
soon to face death.
They were all rich and
among the who's who
in society. In their last days
they were asked what,
when looking back really
mattered?
Was it their yachts,...
#death
#birthday
#fate
#aging
#responsibility
21 reads
4 Comments
PoetsRevenge
Poem Published
9th Jan 2021 5:13am
9th Jan 2021 5:13am
The New Faces (Old To New)
From old to new did mankind pass,
shedding all the woes gone past;
longing for what they once knew,
breaking down what lay askew.
In setting fire to yesterday's ills
and hoping fate will fortune spill;
we give our lives new meaning, yet
spare ourselves from all regret.
But what did we, in sanity renew --
our fate not lost: how we so grew;
leading ever towards a place
would not today recall its face.
And in that face a ghostly air
to trick the watch; in time repair
our dusty footsteps...
shedding all the woes gone past;
longing for what they once knew,
breaking down what lay askew.
In setting fire to yesterday's ills
and hoping fate will fortune spill;
we give our lives new meaning, yet
spare ourselves from all regret.
But what did we, in sanity renew --
our fate not lost: how we so grew;
leading ever towards a place
would not today recall its face.
And in that face a ghostly air
to trick the watch; in time repair
our dusty footsteps...
#aging
#WilliamButlerYeats
#NewYear
55 reads
15 Comments
Tallquietguy
Poem Published
4th Jan 2021 11:41pm
4th Jan 2021 11:41pm
Going 'Round in Circles
If man was truly meant
to live in this world,
then why was he born to die?
If death is the end
and not merely a door,
then why should I even try?
If it is but a cliche
to speak of such things,
it’s because no answer rings true
If no answer is true
with no reason to be found,
the problem must lie with my human-centric view.
to live in this world,
then why was he born to die?
If death is the end
and not merely a door,
then why should I even try?
If it is but a cliche
to speak of such things,
it’s because no answer rings true
If no answer is true
with no reason to be found,
the problem must lie with my human-centric view.
#death
#LifeCycle
#aging
16 reads
0 Comments
javalini
Poem Published
4th Jan 2021 1:27pm
4th Jan 2021 1:27pm
EVERYTHING AND NOTHING
when you were everything
and i was something
and then nothing
just like that
when i could tell
weeks before you said as much
with him in the next room
waiting
and my old boots
still under the bed
and the rain cold down my neck
and me thinking
goddamn
this is just like a fucking movie
except it hurts
almost more than i can bear
and how i wondered
what i'd done
thinking it was me
turning every memory over
looking for clues
when, goddamn, baby,
it was just you ...
and i was something
and then nothing
just like that
when i could tell
weeks before you said as much
with him in the next room
waiting
and my old boots
still under the bed
and the rain cold down my neck
and me thinking
goddamn
this is just like a fucking movie
except it hurts
almost more than i can bear
and how i wondered
what i'd done
thinking it was me
turning every memory over
looking for clues
when, goddamn, baby,
it was just you ...
#breakup
#lover
#aging #wisdom
#aging #wisdom
32 reads
0 Comments
LostViking
Lost Viking
Lost Viking
Poem Published
3rd Jan 2021 2:12pm
3rd Jan 2021 2:12pm
Beauty Fleeting
#lust
#sex
#beauty #aging
#beauty #aging
78 reads
2 Comments
Tallquietguy
Poem Published
2nd Jan 2021 11:30pm
2nd Jan 2021 11:30pm
Tis But a Day
I dreamed a dream of being young
that lasted but an hour
When I awoke, the world was gray,
my youth a crumpled flower.
Where flies the days & years of old? –
ageless Sol will not reveal
Memories stir at inconvenient times,
but the past does not seem real.
Still a word, a story, a silly song
can move my heart to tears
I rage at the power Time does possess
to lay waste all I hold dear.
I lie alone and wait in vain,
longing for the dream to renew;
Yet I know inside ’twill be only a day
before I’m...
that lasted but an hour
When I awoke, the world was gray,
my youth a crumpled flower.
Where flies the days & years of old? –
ageless Sol will not reveal
Memories stir at inconvenient times,
but the past does not seem real.
Still a word, a story, a silly song
can move my heart to tears
I rage at the power Time does possess
to lay waste all I hold dear.
I lie alone and wait in vain,
longing for the dream to renew;
Yet I know inside ’twill be only a day
before I’m...
#sadness
#LifeCycle
#aging
#nostalgia
#emptiness
21 reads
0 Comments
The_Silly_Sibyl
Poem Published
2nd Jan 2021 5:11pm
2nd Jan 2021 5:11pm
God’s Arrow
But God will shoot at them with an arrow;
Suddenly they will be wounded. - Psalm 64
I am thirty this July.
Some thing inside me flattens out
and scents the humours as they churn
just like a dryer sheet.
I’m not, nor will I ever be, fully sane
and sound. But I can greet
the Furies like a friend
who will not bear his throat
to harridans, at least.
I try to say what Kings would at a feast.
That on the hill the heathen sits
and will arrive with sword and bow,
but just like you he eats and shits,
and...
Suddenly they will be wounded. - Psalm 64
I am thirty this July.
Some thing inside me flattens out
and scents the humours as they churn
just like a dryer sheet.
I’m not, nor will I ever be, fully sane
and sound. But I can greet
the Furies like a friend
who will not bear his throat
to harridans, at least.
I try to say what Kings would at a feast.
That on the hill the heathen sits
and will arrive with sword and bow,
but just like you he eats and shits,
and...
#aging
33 reads
12 Comments
buddhakitty
Poem Published
28th Dec 2020 4:19am
28th Dec 2020 4:19am
who's that in the mirror?
I look into the mirror
and wonder where
I have gone,
but I remember
exactly how
I got here.
I pick up my
toothbrush
and
smile.
and wonder where
I have gone,
but I remember
exactly how
I got here.
I pick up my
toothbrush
and
smile.
#aging
#nostalgia
38 reads
12 Comments
LokiOfLiterati
Poem Published
27th Dec 2020 7:41am
27th Dec 2020 7:41am
Yarn unwinding
Keeping practice hot / Some kinda magic can’t be taught / Verbal acrobat / Searching for Kabbalah’s top hat / Merging with cosmic rap noise instead / That voice in my head / Whisper-growling “I’m here for you.” / Oldest version of me before bed / Pronouncing “Get clear and move!” / Flyest groove / Why I do this / Epiphany toys with my tongue / Lucid / Enjoys what brung / Used to it / Linguists cunning ploy? / Batteries not included / Patter set to the social ocean / Is batter mixed with perpetual motion / Never set, expressively open / Catching flow breath is meditative scoping / Resting...
#LifeCycle
#aging
#dystopian
19 reads
1 Comment
Solomon_Song
Poem Published
26th Dec 2020 9:19am
26th Dec 2020 9:19am
SPANIEL'S EARS
Mark of her years,
spaniel's ears
to sight appears.
Out of her bra.
they descend far,
like on grandma.
Oh how they drop
front of her top;
not bounce but flop!
When she was young,
she'd be well hung;
her knockers swung!
When in the nude
they would protrude,
delight the lewd.
Now she is old,
not 'great' to hold
out of their mould.
What I now see
is gravity
triumphant be.
But nipps still perk
to fingerwork;
they do not shirk.
spaniel's ears
to sight appears.
Out of her bra.
they descend far,
like on grandma.
Oh how they drop
front of her top;
not bounce but flop!
When she was young,
she'd be well hung;
her knockers swung!
When in the nude
they would protrude,
delight the lewd.
Now she is old,
not 'great' to hold
out of their mould.
What I now see
is gravity
triumphant be.
But nipps still perk
to fingerwork;
they do not shirk.
#women
#funny
#aging
56 reads
3 Comments
buddhakitty
Poem Published
24th Dec 2020 9:13pm
24th Dec 2020 9:13pm
director's cut
time is a knife
sharpened
to a fine edge
with dread.
God's surgical
precision,
the wound is
mortal
sharpened
to a fine edge
with dread.
God's surgical
precision,
the wound is
mortal
#death
#fate
#aging
36 reads
10 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems about Aging
