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Best Retirement Poems

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Details | Retirement Poem |

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 | Retirement Poem |

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 | Retirement Poem |

Retirement

At long last - blissful retirement to do as I please!
Take a cruise, go fishing, live a life of ease!
If I opt to snooze-in, I'll continue to snore,
A slave to that infernal alarm clock never more!

Ah, but hold on, what is that I hear?
My spouse says, "Come here, I need you my dear.
The lawn needs mowing, the fence to mend,
Shelves to build and the garden to tend!"

Word that I'm happily loafing has got around.
Pleas to volunteer for community projects abound.
"Will you serve on this committee for this and that?"
'Tis useless to hide 'cause they know where I'm at!

I try to avoid all phone calls asking for me.
'Tis usually someone with another plaintive plea!
I must even skulk about for my afternoon nap,
That I highly prize with dear old Simba on my lap!

Although I have tried with all my might,
I cannot escape from my hapless plight!
Lots of folks say that retirement is a bore;
Seems to me there's more to do than ever before!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved


Details | Retirement Poem |

Retirement

The retirement age for SSB
Is fast approaching seventy
And age past which - we should retire
Leaving little time - 'til we expire

We'll take pills to medicate
Which will keep us somewhat healthy
And are over priced - as merchandise
But make others - very wealthy

Our fixed incomes won't keep up
With run away inflation
So we'll sit at home - we'll eat like birds
And live in caged - anticipation


Details | Retirement Poem |

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.




Details | Retirement Poem |

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 Great feat for old guys to achieve Here's the crux of the matter my friends It's something I sadly must share Try all your life to take care of yourself You'll still wind up old with no hair © Jack Ellison 2012


Details | Retirement Poem |

Oh Spring Day

I was wrong about spring, 
for all those months I painted the blame on winter’s dark face.  
Wave after wave of cold cloudy, darkening days,
saturated my damaged point of view.  By the way
I am sure I will die on a winter day, blaming the solstice, 
waiting for the capricious spring to finally arrive.

But my heart will be frozen, and perhaps not even alive.
God how I love the way you make the sun shine.

I was wrong about my fate,
I filled the frame in haste, too busy to wait.  I didn’t listen.
I ate my own eyes, and blamed the skies,
I chased the horizon and wrapped it in lies.  

Oh spring day, it is never too late,
to fill me with mercy and grace as I wait.


Details | Retirement Poem |

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


Details | Retirement Poem |

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 | Retirement Poem |

You have gave me inspiration

You gave me inspiration

I was on my way to giving up
All this poetry, and stuff
Been writing now for forty years
So I thought I’d had enough
Then I found myself on Face book
Writing verse for all my friends
And then discovered ‘poetry soup’
Then negatives did end.

It seems my love for writing
It is back now with full force
I can’t really see it leaving me
It’s my life, it is of course
Why did I plan to leave it
When I love it, oh, so much?
So I sit by my computer
And try some hearts to touch.

It has gave me inspiration
Being here upon this sight
Sending all my writing’s in
It gives me much delight
I love to know that folk have seen
The stuff  write each day
For this it be my story
All told in my own way.

25 June 2013 @ 0945hrs.





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