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Retirement Free Verse Poems | Free Verse Poems About Retirement

These Retirement Free Verse poems are examples of Free Verse poems about Retirement. These are the best examples of Retirement Free Verse poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse |

Confession of a silent Artist

Creative writers are never given flowers while they still breathing poetry.

Biters wait patiently for the last breath to pay their respect and get paid with your work.

Claiming being sent by callings to keep the legend's work alive till infinity.

No doctor has the cue for this sick world.

But guess what we writers do care.

We keep writing spiritually we don't care.

Atleast i don't care, i know you'll be speaking my language with your theft.

Evidently i do share.

You are that invisible disciple i recruited to speak for me in my death.

It's the life of an artist who cares.

We don't seek recognition.

Recognition come to us that's why we endlessly spread.

We are angels with no wings heaven is closer to us we don't fly.

Paradise is home for holidays filled with dead writers.

An escapism from you hooligans.

Its a crime not a mime when you speak rhyme in my rhymes.

Thank God i'm still an infant in this poetry, i have a chance to fill up the grave you dug for me.

Your patience will have to patiently await my departure patiently.

I have enough time to unleash these constipated rhymes.

You think you got me.

I speak better in my rhymes like a machinegun tone spraying pee.

My skeleton is covered in mics louder i do speak rhythmic bones.

My skeleton is made out of cables transporting poetic stones.

My soul will be kept in your brain's museum.

There i said it.

Ye i meant it.


Details | Free verse |

Dementia

He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
Tough.
Independent.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died, 
he has not been the same.
Sad
Lonely
Empty.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
Mind slipping, 
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it, 
until now...
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain, 
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Oh well...
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best, 
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows 
what happens next.
Sedation
Medication
Anger
Hurt
All results of
dementia


Details | Free verse |

A Hug's Breath



Silent tears as friends hug restricted bodies,
Lingering awkward silences for moments long gone.
A hugs breath on his cheek as friends leave him alone,
Lingering smoke and whiskey shades tints the mind.
A parting quip and a crystal tear shivers in the air,
The gesture wave of failing friendship walks unsteady.
A lonely discomfort nips the soul, a hugs breath,
Clutching a card stained with friends pain,
He leaves for home and retirements reign.



2008 © S.de B.


Details | Free verse |

Generic Minds

generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot 
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine 
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians 
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them


Details | Free verse |

Iam Not Afraid Of Middle Age

I am not afraid of middle age                                                                                                                    Let the inquisition of cunning smiles begin                                                                                    My ambition is not conclusive yet                                                                                                                       My passion is not devoured by deliberation in the night                                                                                  For I know that I am the profit margin of my dreams                                                                                                                  And that my vices are as real as my virtues are strong                                                                 No, I am not afraid of middle age                                                                                                      For I have only just begun to rediscover this miracle                                                                     That I am


Details | Free verse |

Sequestration



(This is an evolving story. I keep adding verses until I'm done.)



When I was 
eighty-two, 
I went to live alone 
knowing the money would 
forever be coming. 
Going away felt appropriate 
for a man my age. 
The closest analog 
to the womb 
and to death. 
To be alive, 
clothed in the 
warmth of certainty 
amid my own unchallenged opinions
during the age of ending, 
out of the business 
of a bright, moving planet 
my own part in the world 
outdated and roots 
severed. 

I found a place
in the middle of the trees 
with a thin asphalt egress 
that made it easy 
to cycle to the village. 
I was surrounded by 
the aliens of the earth 
with their secret languages 
and concentrated lives. 
I truly lived among strangers, 
not those wanting to know me 
or able to know me. 
It was like the world 
before I opened my eyes. 
It was here and far away.

Delivered here in a storm 
under which the taxi 
and me 
and the driver 
were as tiny as sugar molecules. 
The driver introduced himself as Charles. 
He is a black man from Aruba, 
Charles an English royal name. 
I ran to the door 
holding a newspaper on my head 
as Charles soaked himself 
carrying my black bags.


Details | Free verse |

The Insanity of the Old


Protected from the past, 
insulated in a box 
made of star-dust, 
closed where it 
points to the earth 
but open toward the 
vacuum of the sky,

why does he
bring the old world back 
when he creates his dreams?


Details | Free verse |

Reflections of Love

To live is to Learn. To learn is to grow up. But at our elderly Age that doesn't mean much.... AAAhhh... The choices and freedoms that age does bring... They open the world of childhood again. This childhood is filled with fantasy and such… Including Dragons, and Trolls alive to the touch. I wish, I wish, you could see them with me. We could laugh at their antics, together you see. To live is to Learn. To learn is to grow up. But as my body grows old, my mind’s still young. My husband and I are like the two parts of the moon. He comes from the light side to pull me there, too. His reflections of love keep me there, each day. To live is to Learn. To learn is to grow up. But never stop smiling, along the way. It’s your reflection of love that’s given to the world, each day. It makes everything brighter, and everything OK. To live is to Learn. To learn is to grow up. To learn is to find how to give your own reflections of love.
For contest: Reflections of Love


Details | Free verse |

Slave to the Job

Vampires suck, they drain my life
it feels like that in this god damn place
A pound of flesh I'm sure they'll take
but even then they won't be full
not satisfied until
I'm worn and I'm weary
they chip chip chip away
then I'm nothing but a shell
I wish I could enjoy this time
on the short path to the inevitable
A pension not too far off for some years of frailty
but what's the point shall I give up now
to stop the pain of being a zombie
I'll carry on because I'm programmed to
but the vultures, the leeches and parasites continue
to bleed me for my life


Details | Free verse |

No More Sojourn



Sonnet, you beckon me with your allure.
Valiant ship from a distant shore
Resting, no more sojourn
Basking in glory of a distant past
Lowered mast once battered and blown
An emblem of pride and place
From boundless rushes, to a windless pace
Now laid bare of all innocence
Meekly, humbly retired

All aboard was the captain’s word
As the crew came rushing on
With hands on decks and the compass set
To carve a story not yet heard
A seafarers’ life of no regrets

While cavaliers seek their bounty
And fortune favours the brave
You set sail from old Blighty
Sending  the good and mighty 
To watery graves

Now in retirement you bask and bathe
As the tides doth ebb and flow
Rising and descending your mood does shift
Whilst along your flanks assorted remnants drift
In the silted bed of the Thames your now reside
Dancing to the rhythm of a seasonal tide
Whilst aboard, there is a tossing and a turning 
In the warmth of comfy beds
Lays the bodies of weary heads

Painted lady, red, gold and green
On my canvas you are drawn
As on the pages I do scribe
Of a beauty and a guile
Never to be erased from my memory
For your dye is truly cast,
Unforgettably.


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