Aging Poems
The Old Man In The Chair
by Leo Warne
That old man in the chair
with the still, spotted hands
hunched over on his porch
and gazing into nowhere.
His youth has ran,
on the ground he lands.
No one seems to care,
and onto them, his dead eyes stare.
Poems about Age, Aging, and Getting Old
by Michael R. Burch
These are poems about time, poems about the process of maturation, poems about aging and growing old, poems about life's journey and its destination.
There is also a collection of my early poems, many about getting older and aging, toward the bottom of this page.
Learning to Fly
by Michael R. Burch
We are learning to fly
......
Adulthood
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Here comes —
slowly— the greyed fitness with heavy,
clasping hands, that tie up
limbs with the flayed string of life,
in which we build gingerly,
toddle for the last time,
and climb stairs more with our breaths
than with our senses.
a moment turning
by Rikske Kessner
"A Slow Turning"
The stairs lengthen each season,
though the house remains the same.
Names slip from my tongue—
like coins through a frayed pocket,
clinking faintly in corridors I no longer patrol.
I misplace mornings,
folding them into afternoons
......
Old hands
by Mario Odekerken
The skin is thin now,
a map of work and weather.
They rest on the table,
quiet as stones in a riverbed.
Once,they built,lifted,
held small lives steady.
Now they move slower,
......
a moment turning
by Rikske Kessner
"A Slow Turning"
The stairs lengthen each season,
though the house remains the same.
Names slip from my tongue—
like coins through a frayed pocket,
clinking faintly in corridors I no longer patrol.
I misplace mornings,
folding them into afternoons
......
Adulthood
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Here comes —
slowly— the greyed fitness with heavy,
clasping hands, that tie up
limbs with the flayed string of life,
in which we build gingerly,
toddle for the last time,
and climb stairs more with our breaths
than with our senses.
Old hands
by Mario Odekerken
The skin is thin now,
a map of work and weather.
They rest on the table,
quiet as stones in a riverbed.
Once,they built,lifted,
held small lives steady.
Now they move slower,
......
When gravity takes his toll(Reflection on Aging)
by Mario Odekerken
It begins softly-
a slower rise from the chair,
a name on the tip of the tongue
that stays just out of reach.
Lines appear
not as flaws
but as evidence-
laughter lived,
worry carried,
......
his sunset years
by Ghairo Daniels
in his sunset years he daily
traversed a mile to smile
waiting
w a t c h i n g
A L E R T
the lilt of phantomic voice to
O P E N his
......
