Least Read Poems About Aging
#aging
SLUMBER OF THE MOON
Darkness, don't loose your light;
I CANNOT.
Here comes yellow, struggling against the fog.
Time, slow down;
I CANNOT.
The sun is waking up.
Full, am I?
FOOL YOU ARE!
Setting behind the clouds.
I CANNOT.
Here comes yellow, struggling against the fog.
Time, slow down;
I CANNOT.
The sun is waking up.
Full, am I?
FOOL YOU ARE!
Setting behind the clouds.
#aging
8 reads
1 Comment
A Swallow Without Wings
I knew an old lady
That swallowed a war
Yet she knewb it wouldn't work
As she'd tried it before
I knew an old lady
That swallowed her tears
At all the abuse
She'd suffered for years
I knew an olf lady
That swallowed her rapist
It happened in childhood
Her rapist was papist
I knew an old lady
That swallowed more bullshit
Her husband was lying
And she just knew it
I knew an old lady
That swallowed his cheating
She didn't dare question him
Or face another beating
I...
That swallowed a war
Yet she knewb it wouldn't work
As she'd tried it before
I knew an old lady
That swallowed her tears
At all the abuse
She'd suffered for years
I knew an olf lady
That swallowed her rapist
It happened in childhood
Her rapist was papist
I knew an old lady
That swallowed more bullshit
Her husband was lying
And she just knew it
I knew an old lady
That swallowed his cheating
She didn't dare question him
Or face another beating
I...
#abuse
#aging
#parody
#surreal
#women
14 reads
0 Comments
Too Much Time Under The Bridge
There are more long nights without you
There are reams of dreams unfulfilled
There are more silent moments emptied of meaning
There are too many thoughts unevenly distilled ...
There are more mispelled days than not
There are more dropped thing days than not
There are more elusive sleep days than not
There are more days that need more patience than I've got ...
Without you ...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oB4K0scMysc
There are reams of dreams unfulfilled
There are more silent moments emptied of meaning
There are too many thoughts unevenly distilled ...
There are more mispelled days than not
There are more dropped thing days than not
There are more elusive sleep days than not
There are more days that need more patience than I've got ...
Without you ...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oB4K0scMysc
#love
#LifeStruggles
#aging
15 reads
7 Comments
Circle In A Square On A Chess Board Filled With Landmines
I am so far off the Hamster wheel
All circles look like squares from over here
Days filled with firework measured time
And heart shaped asses never roaming near
Laps run static and numerous
Questing after speed on the clock
Sitting in stationary pose exploding
As a museum ship that never leaves the dock
Excuse my manner I am quite off
Mad as a hatter driven over the cliff
Dreams fill empty hope fueled by time advancing stiffly
Ever changing challenges never met ... soul still chomping at the bit ... ..
...
All circles look like squares from over here
Days filled with firework measured time
And heart shaped asses never roaming near
Laps run static and numerous
Questing after speed on the clock
Sitting in stationary pose exploding
As a museum ship that never leaves the dock
Excuse my manner I am quite off
Mad as a hatter driven over the cliff
Dreams fill empty hope fueled by time advancing stiffly
Ever changing challenges never met ... soul still chomping at the bit ... ..
...
#love
#LifeStruggles
#aging
18 reads
7 Comments
Holding The Line
Wading through the lies
A storm of deception
Like calculating Pi
An endless corruption
Focus on the center
Cling to the known
Stand fast against it all
Tall like a stone
Weathered cracks and fissures
More prominent and deep
Bear witness to the struggle
Of decades the will to keep
Fighting
One inch at a time
Enduring past all hope
Holding the line
The end closer
Than the begining
Muscles straining
Core failing
Going down
Fighting to the last
No more...
A storm of deception
Like calculating Pi
An endless corruption
Focus on the center
Cling to the known
Stand fast against it all
Tall like a stone
Weathered cracks and fissures
More prominent and deep
Bear witness to the struggle
Of decades the will to keep
Fighting
One inch at a time
Enduring past all hope
Holding the line
The end closer
Than the begining
Muscles straining
Core failing
Going down
Fighting to the last
No more...
#love
#illness
#aging
18 reads
7 Comments
when whore house was fun
When a whore house was fun
I sat down to write about flowers, those often
called weeds and grows on untended pavements
but another thought got in the way as I recalled
that flowers in a whore house are usually plastic
except for a chrysanthemum on
a painting on a wall of an artistic whore
I have had much fun in houses of ill-repute
it is not only sex but also laughter and dance
The girls liked young sailors and the possibility
of a steady relationship.
It did happen to a sailor coming home from Brazil
with a blushing bride,...
I sat down to write about flowers, those often
called weeds and grows on untended pavements
but another thought got in the way as I recalled
that flowers in a whore house are usually plastic
except for a chrysanthemum on
a painting on a wall of an artistic whore
I have had much fun in houses of ill-repute
it is not only sex but also laughter and dance
The girls liked young sailors and the possibility
of a steady relationship.
It did happen to a sailor coming home from Brazil
with a blushing bride,...
#aging
#dating
#marriage
#nostalgia
#teens
21 reads
0 Comments
Father time
Father time
What is it to grow old?
Is it to lose the glory of the form,
The luster of the eye?
Is it for beauty to forego her wreath?
Yes, but not for this alone.
Is it to feel our strength -
Not our bloom only, but our strength -decay?
Is it to feel each limb
Grow stiffer, every function less exact,
Each nerve more weakly strung?
Yes, this, and more! but not,
Ah, 'tis not what in youth we dreamed 'twould be!
'Its not to have our life
Mellowed and softened as with sunset-glow,
A golden day's...
What is it to grow old?
Is it to lose the glory of the form,
The luster of the eye?
Is it for beauty to forego her wreath?
Yes, but not for this alone.
Is it to feel our strength -
Not our bloom only, but our strength -decay?
Is it to feel each limb
Grow stiffer, every function less exact,
Each nerve more weakly strung?
Yes, this, and more! but not,
Ah, 'tis not what in youth we dreamed 'twould be!
'Its not to have our life
Mellowed and softened as with sunset-glow,
A golden day's...
#love
#passion
#aging
24 reads
6 Comments
Gathering wool
Two hours late
today, pulled off
to write this. Lost track
of time
and before you can say knife
this is all I have
to show for it.
today, pulled off
to write this. Lost track
of time
and before you can say knife
this is all I have
to show for it.
#aging
#DeepUndergroundPoetry
#LifeAsAWriter
25 reads
0 Comments
miss you
used to see in town those
with whom I once worked
with a feeling of melancholy
I simply don’t anymore
with whom I once worked
with a feeling of melancholy
I simply don’t anymore
#aging
34 reads
0 Comments
what now?
no longer young
but no yet old enough
to be buried
...somewhere
in-between
so when those long,
slow days come for
me where there is no
magic left
and a bed will be my
last home
where all the walls
are silent with the
memories of grief
come to me
sit by my bed side
and read softly to
me from
Fante's
Ask The
Dust
as I close my
eyes in
wonder
but no yet old enough
to be buried
...somewhere
in-between
so when those long,
slow days come for
me where there is no
magic left
and a bed will be my
last home
where all the walls
are silent with the
memories of grief
come to me
sit by my bed side
and read softly to
me from
Fante's
Ask The
Dust
as I close my
eyes in
wonder
#aging
40 reads
2 Comments
Echoes
I sit in the garden,
Sunlight filters through trees,
Memories whisper like leaves in the breeze.
Faces of loved ones,
Their names start to fade,
In this silent, cruel masquerade.
I reach for a moment,
A fragment of time,
But it slips through my fingers,
Like a lost rhyme.
Voices are echoes,
Phantoms of past,
I cling to each one,
But they vanish so fast.
Days blend together,
Like colours in rain,
Each one a painting,
Of sorrow and pain.
Yet in the confusion,
A glimmer of light, ...
Sunlight filters through trees,
Memories whisper like leaves in the breeze.
Faces of loved ones,
Their names start to fade,
In this silent, cruel masquerade.
I reach for a moment,
A fragment of time,
But it slips through my fingers,
Like a lost rhyme.
Voices are echoes,
Phantoms of past,
I cling to each one,
But they vanish so fast.
Days blend together,
Like colours in rain,
Each one a painting,
Of sorrow and pain.
Yet in the confusion,
A glimmer of light, ...
#aging
#MentalHealth
43 reads
0 Comments
getting old ain’t so bad
no longer go out at night
I like to see where I’m going
to bed with a scotch and a book, and you, of course, and I’m glad
I like to see where I’m going
to bed with a scotch and a book, and you, of course, and I’m glad
#aging
#unicorns
44 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Least Read Poems About Aging