Age Poems
The Golden Age
by Bill Knott
is thought to be a confession, won by endless
torture, but which our interrogators must
hate to record—all those old code names, dates,
the standard narrative of sandpaper
throats, even its remorse, fall ignored. Far
away, a late (not lost) messenger stares,
struck by window bargains or is it the gift
of a sudden solicitude: is she going to
lift up her shadow's weight, shift hers
......
Redwood Skies
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Redwoods cloaked in green
home to golden birds, singing
up in true blue skies
So ancient and prodigious
hailing the stars and the moon
Redwood rosy morn
redwood soaked in the sunset
with silent breezes
Lord of the dark green forest
......
Poems about Age, Aging, and Getting Old
by Michael R. Burch
Learning to Fly
by Michael R. Burch
We are learning to fly
every day . . .
learning to fly—
away, away . . .
O, love is not in the ephemeral flight,
......
Witch
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Wicked aged woman,
wreaking harm with cauldron,
warty nose, crafty eyes;
Wisdom sees through dark guise!
When riding purple broom,
wild crone cackles at moon.
Warblers on crimson skies.
Laughter
by Conrad Potter Aiken
You, whom these eyes, no longer mine,
Shall see in the mirror's flash and shine,
Meagre of face and pale of cheek,
Pale mouth, and lines that sadness speak:
All the grey shipwreck of this me
Who look upon you and laugh for glee,
Mocking at you, poor feeble thing,
You word that's uttered, you tune that's played,
You body shrunken, you soul decayed,
You heart that whispers but cannot sing:
......
Snowfield
by Jake Eld
Open field, shining snow
Crimson shadow, earthen flow
Brightest jailer, oaken bars
Things beneath lurk never far
Dry leaves flutter, wind will dance
Trees can whisper, sturdy trance
Rasp of winter, grind of time
Come spring again it won't be mine
......
Witch
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Wicked aged woman,
wreaking harm with cauldron,
warty nose, crafty eyes;
Wisdom sees through dark guise!
When riding purple broom,
wild crone cackles at moon.
Warblers on crimson skies.
A Sonnet 06: Keep Moving Forward
by Ayatullah Nurjati
This age is increasing
There are still many things that have not been achieved
It's similar to my hair which is changing more and more every day—white like the dry season that leaves the leaves on the tops of the trees, it's so heartbreaking
Although very few expectations are achieved
Like nails and hair that fall off and grow back
It is different with the enemy—friends come and go
The only thing missing is the teeth that never go back
Nothing left with the family, which was never outdated even Though the country was under an embargo
......
Poems about Age, Aging, and Getting Old
by Michael R. Burch
Learning to Fly
by Michael R. Burch
We are learning to fly
every day . . .
learning to fly—
away, away . . .
O, love is not in the ephemeral flight,
......
18.88219178%
by Becca CorrineI live under the assumption that I will live exactly 100 years. I picked the number as a child when I was too scared to not live forever and 100 years sounded decently like forever. Then I hit fourteen, eighteen, I realize my life is nearly a fifth done. The sun circles round, the progress bar progresses. Then, I die. I was an anxious child. Very scared of death, I was obsessed, as people are with their fears, and I called my dad on his way home from work to tell him I didn’t know how I could stand being alone when everyone else is gone. I picture my parents with matching headstones, traditional, rounded at the edges. I am scared that I estimated too high and my math is all wrong. I am scared that I am far more than a fifth done with this life and I will never fully progress. I am an anxious child, still obsessed. I celebrate birthdays, fractions bouncing throughout my mind. I feel too old to be this young.
Continue reading