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Retirement Funny Poems | Retirement Poems About Funny

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

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Details | Rhyme | |

Retirement Plan

 Retirement Plan

Dr. James E. Martin
©February, 2013

Now that I’ve reached a ripe old age,
I sit on the porch and sip sweet tea.
Some may question the wisdom in this,
My response is simply, “It works for me!”

Jealousy is undoubtedly fostered in some,
For that matter anger may surely arise.
I simply continue in my well designed plan
And know that many my life they despise.



Copyright © DrJim Martin

Details | Quatrain | |

Ain't Retirement Grand

I wake up at 5:30 most mornings
Before the sun has a chance to rise
Head for the bathroom as fast as I can
To get rid of yesterday's Mai Tai

I let out a great big sigh of relief
As I wipe the gunk from my peepers
Stand in front of a full length mirror
Like Tarzan, in my trap door sleepers 

I sure am ruggedly handsome, methinks
Could even grace the cover of GQ
That's if they publish a special edition
For overweight, balding yahoos

Maybe I'm being too hard on myself
I've still got a surprise up my sleeve
Like running a mile in two hours flat
Quite a feat for old guys to achieve

Now here's a lesson, so listen up good
To this fatherly advice that I share
Take care of yourself or you'll wind up
As a old guy without any hair

©Jack Ellison 2012

Copyright © Jack Ellison

Details | Haiku | |

Haiku Shoppe

Great idea here Let’s open a Haiku Shoppe They go great with beer Easy to find I’m told They hide under nibs of pens Don’t let them get old To make a great stew Take a limerick or two Mix well with Haiku If all has gone well And your mix has turned out right You’re ready to sell One more thing to do We must put them on a bun - Sit and have a few Written by John Posey 12/22/12

Copyright © John Posey

Details | Blank verse | |

a package from Amazon

getting old
sitting on my rocker
waiting for mail 

a package
from Amazon 
with my first fast elder walker with seat

they say that this fast elder walker with seat
could last 
up to ten years to the day

I do pray 
that this walker 
is not my last 

and that it and I 
don’t go too fast

Copyright © RUDOLPH RINALDI

Details | Bio | |

Solitude: To Yoda, An Ode

Green bark a prism creates,
Feel the pull of earth, you must.

Rotates, a slime of endless hates,
Can hold me not, this world’s crust.

Friendship’s ties, isolation Deflates,
Succumbs, my spaceship, to bitter rust.

Mist, my soul forever permeates,
Lift-off, booms the rocket’s thrust.

My spirit when light returns, elates,
Swamps swell, swallowed hope’s swirling dust.

Trapped, I am, until student from fate
Arrives to learn; Cloud City or bust.

Copyright © Dan Keir

Details | Limerick | |

Retirement and the Mountains

Retirement in the Mountains

There once was an old mountain man.
He hunted and lived off the land.
He always felt fine.
When he danced in moonshine.
So he danced and imbibed like he planned.

© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
March 11, 2010

Poetic form:  Limerick

Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

Details | Free verse | |

Cubicle Life

click click, click click, tick-tock, tick-tock,
the clock seems to tick not as fast as one wants,
the air conditioner stops now they can hear you chew, 
after the first week, you knew this wasn't the right job for you.

two years go by, collectively this repetition makes the time fly
but each day feels like two weeks in the mind,
a backwards reality, a 21st century tragedy, too much of this will make one mad you see, its just not natural - self destruction will take place gradually

in search of a new end goal, something nourishing to the soul, perhaps a little creative control, a bit more spiritual, and a little less ritual,
how about less them, and a little more you, knowing you have the ability to pursue anything you want to do, but for now you keep your head down just trying to see the day through and then forcefully recoup - praying the IT department doesn't notice you scrolling down poetry soup:)

Copyright © TY HU

Details | Rhyme | |

RETIREMENT

Thirty years in the work force, 
I might have stopped earlier, of course, 
but kept on working with my hard-earned skills.
It kept me out of trouble and paid the bills.
Eight hours travail, then home in time
to do the "rest", which was nothing of the kind.
Friday night laundry and pushing the vacuum, Say?,
'til two in the morning so as have a free Saturday.
How did I do it without risking a seizure?  
As stay-at-home writer, do I have any leisure?
You guessed it: my busy life is out to get me.
I'd like to quit, but my Boss won't let me.

              for Andrea, who asks where I've been

Copyright © Nola Perez

Details | Alliteration | |

No Longer Fit for Work

No more faxes, no more phones                                               
No more “It’s too early” moans                                                    
No commuting, shouting, tooting                                          
No more shirts & ties & suiting
No service station breaks and bites                                   
No toilet queues and car park fights                                    
No CRUISE  control or heated seats                                       
No glovebox filled with fuel receipts 
No more hotel revolving doors                                                  
No concierge, no polished floors                                                                                                          
No battered cases, weary faces                                           
Sleepless nights in far-off places
No bacon fat, no butter pat                                                       
No “Why have I been charged for that?”                                      
No checking out or checking in                                                    
Or moans about the room you’re in     
No ‘silly hours’ airport dash                                                    
No feeling for your foreign cash                
No passport checks, departure times,                                    
No Coke machines that don’t take dimes
No drinks or pastes, no sprays or gel                                                                  
Lens solution? - banned as well                                                                             
No plastic meals or plastic smiles                                                                      
To carry you across the miles
No luggage queues, no business shoes                                          
No funny, foreign, TV news                                                        
No laws by which you must abide                                                
No driving on the other side
No local customs, scraping, bowing                                             
Baffling greetings and kowtowing                                              
No horrid coffees, tepid teas                                                      
No pidgin English; ‘Thank you, please’
Meetings, musings, tariff choosings                                         
Hushed asides, so oft confusing                                        
Remembering their children’s names                                           
Tax returns, expenses claims 
You’ve toed the line your whole life through                                 
But future plans are up to you                                                        
Bin the laptop, scrap the email                                                   
Make time for your favourite female

Copyright © Bill Lindsay

Details | Free verse | |

Retirement

No more faxes, no more phones                                               
No more “It’s too early” moans                                                    
No commuting, shouting, tooting                                          
No more shirts & ties & suiting
No service station breaks and bites                                   
No toilet queues and car park fights                                    
No CRUISE  control or heated seats                                       
No glovebox filled with fuel receipts 
No more hotel revolving doors                                                  
No concierge, no polished floors                                                                                                          
No battered cases, weary faces                                           
Sleepless nights in far-off places
No bacon fat, no butter pat                                                       
No “Why have I been charged for that?”                                      
No checking out or checking in                                                    
Or moans about the room you’re in     
No ‘silly hours’ airport dash                                                    
No feeling for your foreign cash                
No passport checks, departure times,                                    
No Coke machines that don’t take dimes
No drinks or pastes, no sprays or gel                                                                  
Lens solution? - banned as well                                                                             
No plastic meals or plastic smiles                                                                      
To carry you across the miles
No luggage queues, no business shoes                                          
No funny, foreign, TV news                                                        
No laws by which you must abide                                                
No driving on the other side
No local customs, scraping, bowing                                             
Baffling greetings and kowtowing                                              
No horrid coffees, tepid teas                                                      
No pidgin English; ‘Thank you, please’
Meetings, musings, tariff choosings                                         
Hushed asides, so oft confusing                                        
Remembering their children’s names                                           
Tax returns, expenses claims 
You’ve toed the line your whole life through                                 
But future plans are up to you                                                        
Bin the laptop, scrap the email                                                   
Make time for your favourite female

Copyright © Bill Lindsay

Details | Rhyme | |

Retirement

Before Jack retired
He promised that
He shovel the snow
He'd feed the cat


He'd fix the roof
And mend the sink
He paint the 
Bathroom sunrise pink

He'd build a den
And repair the phones
He'd set the yard
With patio stones

He said he'd dig
The garden plot
Clean the attic
Extent the lot

He'd clean the windows
Eaves and spout
Get all the soggy 
Dead leaves out

We'd buy a trailer
Jack and me
And then go 
Visit cousin Dee

We'd jet away
To sunny lands
Bask on warm
And tropic sands

Spend our days
In hottest Reno
Night time jaunts
To the casino

Dance the tango
Dine out late
Sleep in peace
At motel eight

Fly to Paris
Greece or Rome
Never spend
A day at home

Now old Jack
Has made it clear
Lies on sofa
Drinking beer

Forgetting words
of yesterday
Jack is finally
here to stay

Paunchy, balding
And  much alive
Jack sure is
loving sixty five

Copyright © valerie bellefleur