These Age Time poems are examples of Age poems about Time. These are the best examples of Age Time poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
It was a long time ago, in another age
Where the shifting of the wind
Knew where I began
A place so far away,
Somewhere distant, in childhood country
Before the fog had set in,
Before time lost all trace of me
Where have they gone?
Those merry dancers with whom I played?
When we were queens of the carnival, kings of the parade?
Before being dethroned to mid-life corners
Hearing the music, without playing the drums
They tell me to take this age with grace
Yet everywhere I turn, is young
I'm still the same, I have not changed
I lived a time where love was wild and thoughts were too
With high regard, when eyes were glued
Now inside I'm torn in two...the old and the new
Trapped between this nowhere place
Myself and someone else
Until each barrier becomes a bridge...
Have I been shaped too square by passing years, to fit in circle's place?
My memory recalls those beautiful tomorrows
Now long buried in yesterday's ground
There are other ways to measure time
Besides growing older and graying hair
Recorded music fills the room
Left playing from an earlier time
When October skies showed fading traces
Of empty days and sad old faces
The "others" of whom I had no fear
Now those shadowed remnants from my past
Are stalking at my heels
Will somebody care to ask? Will anyone need my mind?
Will they patronize, or just be kind?
Care enough, make me useful, give me value, call me beautiful?....
Not yet the age I'll someday be
Still, I feel the sting of losing me
How I ache for all those love songs
How I ache for someone needing, someone pleading...
For advice....for my worth, for an answer, will they want me?
How it haunts me.....Will they see me?
Touching me....reminding me of who I am................not just who I was...
in the sun
The skin became the bark of a tree
the soul turning to brittle scars
for uncaring worlds to see.
is a pile of
old owl bones
sewn into banks of midnight creeks...
even the plump, over ripened ones
no longer look at me...
but if their car was desert flat,
their oil grim reaper black
they'd paint a wormy, water colored smile...
slide it through my barbed wired heart
so long as I could spin the jack...
so I spin it until their potholes turn to satin-
in the sun
the mind has smoothed over
like pebbles in Saturn rings..
a forgotten spice in the conversation of life
an hour later the word snuggles up to me
Tomorrow or forever( which ever comes first),
I'll stay wrapped inside
till my skin turns back to ivory
to an easter egg yesterday
to a time of bouncing ball and spinning jack,
when the mind was a great silky nest...
the face a flowered meadow place
where watercolors swirled all day,
the heartworms kept at bay.
I'll stay hidden within the briar,
till the jewels of memories sooth
every scar - every stripe,
the molten knots of cruelty,
till the sweetened fruit reclaims the tree.
until then only my curtains breathe...
...stayed in the sun
They met at first around sixteen,while they were in their teens.
A young man tall and handsome, a girl with many dreams.
Years later they did meet again this time he was smitten.
It took some time to hook this girl, eventually their history written.
He had a plan to marry her and move her from her home.
She'd have to leave her roots, the only thing she'd known.
Leave her home and family was what she had to do,
The love they shared was eternal even though it 'twas brand new.
This love they shared was a gift,their faith was also strong
They both loved many similar things like fishing, books and song.
Seven children blessed their lives, they started their own tree
So strong this love they shared, became one large family.
Both worked hard to raise them, devoted to each one,
They shared their love equally to each daughter and each son.
Education and faith were important, practiced with daily prayer
They fed and clothed this family with love and tremendous care
Each child was very different and different paths they took.
Educators, artists, builders, Lawyers and even cooks.
Each child found their partners, some added children to each branch.
All love music, all loved to read, a few even like to dance.
Their children had more children and the two were greatly blessed,
With lovely grandchildren with many traits that both these two possessed
What remained from the love they shared twas passed down through the line
A love this strong must be shared and it surpassed all time
Four generations have now developed from these two whose love began
So many years before when both had shared a plan.
Each twig shares a piece and resembles one or the other
For this love story that's been described was about a Father and Mother
I'd love to say they share a life together here today
But God had different plans in mind, for one he took away
The void he left was devastating to everyone you see
Hardest on the one for which he shared atop the tree
The plan these two created at the time they were entwined
Continues on by one so strong , who giveth all of her time
To the tree these two created which grows branches to this day
The love created by these two shall never go
The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare
You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark
The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy
You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark.
so many times beneath the stars
our lives are lived for fate and scars
infancy seems to abound
from everywhere it screams its sound
too loud to hear the voices true
without a sound, it comes to you
it strikes with force, a fist, a roar!
so strong a warmth you can't ignore
the vision marred by human sense
for now the journey must commence
the trials begin with fervor rise
a gaze glares straight within the eyes
so hard to suffer ends defeat
victories are ever sweet
the sky preludes the next advance
all surety, no happenstance
a place of firm and solid lore
where the light and night I wore
as symbols of forever more
no longer will I toil and chore
Poem genesis from:
by Poet Destroyer A
I just want my summertime
To be at a stand still.
Sometimes, when women cross my mind,
I'm not sure just what to feel.
I'd like to call her friend,
And I want us to mean something.
I can find several, yet in the end,
It seems like all I have is nothing.
So where is the evidence
That says I should move forward?
Show me a sign that's heaven sent;
A point I should move toward.
©2013 Poetic Justice
Many years ago, when we were all young,
We really thought life, would be so much fun.
While playing dress-up, trying on mom’s stuff,
Putting on make-up, we found to be tough.
Then came our schooling, and boy things would change,
“Those aren’t our parents”, when they acted strange.
Sometimes they were hip, but old-fashioned too,
That’s something I swore, I would never do.
Wishing you were older, adults had it made,
They would do nothing, yet still would be paid.
That is how little, we all had known,
We surely found out, once we were grown.
Loving the twenties, we’d go out with friends,
When we went shopping, we followed the trends.
Doing what we wanted, and staying out late,
It didn’t matter, what time we all ate.
Then came the thirties, and most of us wed,
Watch what you wish for, my parents had said.
We had to work hard, many bills to pay,
I guess they were right, what more can I say?
Raising your children, was hardest of all,
Needing some advice, your parent’s you’d call.
It seemed so easy, they needed no rest,
So now it’s your turn, you learned from the best.
The forties arrived, that was a shocker,
We’d spend lots of time, just at the doctor.
Back aches and headaches, so tired you’d be,
Trying not to cough, or else you would pee.
The fifties would come, and your grandkids too,
Where were your glasses? You hadn’t a clue.
You searched here and there, and under the bed,
“Hey grandma” they laughed, “They’re right on your head”.
Here come the sixties, now let’s have some fun,
You are retired; your work is all done.
To dinner with friends, you dressed and you wait,
They never show up, you have the wrong date.
Now the seventies, with friends playing games,
If only you could, remember their names.
You try hard to hide, those under-eye bags,
Gravity happens, and everything sags.
Enjoy every day, and have a good laugh,
All the steps you took, led down a new path.
Live life as it comes, each year a new page,
One thing is for sure, everyone will age.
Sometimes my poetry is just a case of words,
and not necessarily my reality;
and that’s what is so beautiful about writing
You can be who you want to be on any level
and tell secrets about fantasies that may never be;
or take trips to other dimensions on mental journeys, or places that some don’t even think exist
They mimic thoughts that manifest themselves as poetry
and rest on pages patiently waiting to adhere
My words are a reflection of my heart
and they reveal the truth behind my mask of fear
they deliver reality doses whether they are just cases,
or me in the absolute right here
My words exude positive intentions;
my imperfections apparent but I accepted rejections
and reversed dejection
and decided to bare all my fantasies, my flaws my very soul
Uncertain how voiced verses appeal to outside sources but internally they set me free
They provide a medium of light and creativity
A chance to apply knowledge and a time for reflecting on and making changes in my frequency
My words are attached to my soul and its overwhelming ability to just be
They reflect what I was before
the choices I’ve made and the reasons that this life is perfect
according to divine order
They represent the voices of my ancestors from the beginning of time
because up until now,
the ending wasn’t within reach so I make sure that I
carefully choose the format and the right place and time
to deliver the message that may be blatant or hidden inside –
of the abstract placements of verbs
giving praise to the source of power that calmly submits to the voice
connected to my words
I am the originator of my own words
I hope that you are inspired, or simply entertained
by the process by which I've placed my words
All this time I have always had my doubts,
Not the person led to believe is what I found out.
To be deceived and lied to for oh so long,
Down deep I knew there was something wrong.
Head over heels I had fallen in love ,
Always thought you were sent from above.
How the knife is twisted into my side ,
So much pain I can do nothing but cry.
These memories of what I thought was real,
I'm confused and I don't how how to feel.
Is this really possible that I did not know,
Through all this time it never showed.
Such an evil thing to do to a man ,
Especially the lies which he could not stand.
How cruel and cold your heart must be ,
To carry on as you did never letting me see.
Hard to accept all those moments so dear ,
Realizing they are now my greatest fears .
What was to be Joy and Happiness,
Replaced by the feelings of a loneliness.
Never did I imagine this happening to me ,
Thinking that you and I were meant to be .
It's a very hard thing for a man to accept ,
When he finds out that he's been tricked.
Was it the money or the control you had ,
Maybe because you are really just that bad.
Some day soon for this you will have to pay ,
For the sins against me and your evil ways.
Goodbye to you who ever you are ,
For in this heart you have left brutally scarred.
My heart is empty, Jeffrey.
I’m standing here transfixed
within the threshold
of a vacant bedroom.
The air is still
but the delicate scent
of your passing soul
invades my nostrils.
The aroma travels deep
inside the tunnels
of my abdominal cavity -
a dew-anointed meadow
a fuchsia sunrise.
Your mattress is scrubbed,
stripped and sunlit –
except for two eiderdown pillows.
I envision a perfect outline -
your fragile face
softly carved within
the creases of these satin cases.
I visually inhale the profile
of your splendor;
a modern day Shroud of Turin
resurrected and resplendent
through trickled specks
of semi-dried sweat.
“No more IV’s”…“right…”
“No more bedpans”…“exactly…”
“No more night sweats”…“yes, handsome…”
“Now give me a big hug, Jeffrey…Jeffrey…”
My hands tremble as I
reach from one photograph to the next.
The images I want to barter
with Faustus and friends -
ensuring me a pact
whereas I can live and breathe
inside these time honored pixels -
content in lonely frames
hanging upon clinical walls
in a half-emptied bedroom.
I grabbed a beaded satin pillow
to cushion the fall as
I slowly hyperventilated.
I breathe once more, Jeffrey,
but I’ll gag twice again,
as I remember our newly spoken language -
a private dialect we created last month
reminiscent of the movie
“The Lost Language of Cranes.”
Those three long weeks before
you suddenly became incoherent
Remember how we improvised?
(shaking and arms crossed) “OK…you’re cold – I’ll get you a blanket!"
(pointing to your mouth) “You’re thirsty…water or juice?"
(pointing to your mouth and shaking) “OK…I’ve got it…ice cream…pudding?"
(index fingers pointing upward and swaying) “I know… you wanna listen to music”
(index fingers pointing downward) “Please turn off the TV set”
(middle finger pointing upward) “OK…you want me to adjust your pillows?"
(both middle fingers pointing upward and shaking) “Alright…alright – I know!…If you
hear Celine Dion one more time on the radio you’re gonna kick your bedpan off the side of
(arms folded across your chest)…”Rest handsome, rest…”
It’s OK, Jeffrey...it's OK.
No more IV’s.
No more bedpans.
I have your pictures.
You're not sweating anymore.
I’m not choking...now.
TV’s turned off...
Ate the last of the ice cream
and the pudding...and...
And as I did -
I swallowed every part
of your triumphant,