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Best Retirement Poems

Below are the all-time best Retirement poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of retirement poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Don't stop! The most popular and best Retirement poems are below this new poems list.

Talented Retirement by von Erlach Schutz, Gwen
One Man's Retirement by Guckian, Mary
One Man's Retirement by Guckian, Mary
Happy Retirement by Bt Norazman, Nur Marlina Sari
Early retirement by kriticos, Kyle
Bonded Retirement Plan by Adams, Cona
On Your Job Retirement by Galinta, Leonora
Ways To Avoid Running Out Of Money During Retirement by Ellison, Jack
Why Aren't You Saving More for Retirement by Camp, Elton
California Retirement Communithy by Ludden, Robert

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The Best Retirement Poems

Details | Retirement Poem | |

From Pinnacle to Cynical

From Pinnacle to Cynical 

When we were young
We had our dreams
But, in our future we would find
That many times along the way
There were mountains, we must climb
But with the strength  
That comes with youth
We foiled every peril 
And hiked the broadways to the top
Until the path got narrow
Yes, in our way, we reached the top
And then became quite cynical 
For our decline, we could not stop
In descending from that pinnacle 
It matters not, how far we reached
Upon life's twisted routes and bends 
It's knowing that we've seen the summit
And that our journey, must slow, then end
                                                   By JTCurtis

Copyright © Jerry T Curtis

More great poems below...

Details | Retirement Poem | |

New Future Of The Internet

New Future Of The

Cable cost are up
too high
You turned to the
internet and so have

My Youtube channel
is the way to go
Now I can even make
video shows

I group the videos
to make a show
To bring you the
best of where I go

For kids the mower
and stove videos
I also have vehicles
and some scarecrows

Kids can watch from
morn til night
with lots of things
for a kids delight
Light houses, ship
building, and horses
Antique barn yards
and tractor pulls
just for you

Aviation, taxidermy,
and crafty wood
Viewwithme Youtube
has all the quirks 

The historical homes
make a great tour
Contest and oxen
pulls are never a

Animal friends, I
haven’t forgotten
I have horses, dogs,
cows and sheep too

Plenty of petting
pens and milking for
And a simple click
is all you have to

A lot of shows with
a mix for all
Like demolition
derby or a stunt so

So if you dropped
the cable and you
have a need
I have three
channels for you to
By: Doris Anne

Copyright © Doris Beaulieu

Details | Retirement Poem | |

So Words Become

So words become; the order of the day
and order of the day becomes
the soldiered meaning of all work and play,
the ever present, beating drums.

Then words become; the lure of the lie
and liars lure every son
with shadows of gold 'til they all but die,
to retire, to be, to be done.

And then, once again; the words become
the order of every day
to sleep, to awake, to be dead and done,
'til all words fly, ever away.

Copyright © Tom Hitt

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.

Copyright © Raymond Ngomane

Details | Retirement Poem | |


Strolling around town 
At prohibited time 
Ignoring the church bell sounds
While I see people hurrying 
Down the sidewalk
On their way to work 

Think maybe I'll find 
Pen and paper
And have a coffee somewhere 

Or maybe not

Copyright © Steinar Gismeroy Olafsen

Details | Retirement Poem | |


He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
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.
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.
All results of

Copyright © Laura Hamilton

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.

Copyright © DrJim Martin

Details | Retirement Poem | |

On Your Job Retirement

You are a very precious treasure more than a golden gem
Working so hard for many years serving your fellowmen
You shared your knowledge, strengths and whole self lovingly
For the benefits of all…making life so worthy for everybody

Your life with this job can be in diversions of path
At times you swerve, you just go ahead and never stop
Being dogged and determined in everything you do
All graces in life from God, through others kept pouring on you

As you are finally retiring on your noble job
You can look back and see your great achievements in life
Not merely on material things but on your career and infinite love
So enormous in the eyes of recipients and your friends around

Your retirement doesn’t mean, it is already the end
It is a new beginning to enjoy your rich rewards and blessings
It’s the most wonderful time to spend your whole life with your family
The alpha and omega of your love and generosity in your community

by Leonora Galinta
All Rights Reserved


Copyright © Leonora Galinta

Details | Retirement Poem | |

Happy Retirement

My most beloved teacher
For the past three years 
You have taught me lot of things
Though most of the time
The subjects you taught are a bit boring
Though I have slept many times in class
You still noticed me and called my name
Though sometimes you are hilarious
Which makes everybody smile all day
Though sometimes your jokes have taken too far
I still like you very much
My friends also like you very much
I also hoping that you would
Stay a bit longer 
Thank you for everything
Happy retirement,Mr Lim

By Nur MS

Copyright © Nur Marlina Sari Bt Norazman

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.

Copyright © James Fredholm

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 © B.

Copyright © Seosamh De Burca

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.

Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | Retirement Poem | |

Remember me?

I was the one who was sat on the wall
I was so little the others were tall
The school was next door so I didn’t go far
Never needed to go to school by car

I played in the playground with some of my fiends
Long summer days that never seemed to end
That’s a long time ago, can you recall?
The bumps and bruises when taking a fall

Long summer nights turned to autumn browns
As I grew older I had life’s up’s and down’s
Working for a living to make ends meet
Bringing up children that was a treat

Do you remember me? I was young and daft
I couldn’t remember when I last laughed
I had wild ideas but they didn’t last long
I knew back then that I didn’t belong

Now I am older, I’ve survived life’s trials
I’ve cried many tears and travelled miles
Nearing retirement I look back at things
Wondering now what retirement brings

Copyright © Pamela Griffiths

Details | Retirement Poem | |

Feeding the Birds

My morning retirement ritual,
Provides breakfast to the birds on my street. 
Food for fowl, silencing bellies that growl,
Watching the many hundreds gather near,
Huddled together on branches they meet,
With a calm patience we’ve learned to revere.

Feeding the birds of every pedigree,
Flying things, all sizes, colors, and shapes.
Hungry beaks, vibrant feathers, sharp clawed feet,
Small Finches and Wrens, large Sparrows come round.
Harmoniously singing us awake,
Their only care: yummy seeds on the ground.

My morning retirement ritual,
Feeding the birds of every pedigree.

1)  Sonnet written in Anapestic Pentameter

Copyright © Michael Wegman

Details | Retirement Poem | |

Young Whipper Snappers

Was self-employed for thirty-five years So when I finally called it quits No big party, no expensive gold watch No well wishers, no funny quips As I quietly sailed off into the sunset I heard this young fellow say “Another piece of deadwood we're rid of! Let's go, it's a brand new day” That's funny, I said the very same thing He's right, it's a brand new day No more stress no ridiculous deadlines Finally time for making hay Young whipper snappers have no idea Their time will come sure as rain “Another piece of deadwood we're rid of!” It'll be they who'll hear that refrain! © Jack Ellison 2013

Copyright © Jack Ellison

Details | Retirement Poem | |

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

Copyright © Green Trees

Details | Retirement Poem | |


No need to brag
Jeter #2 was born to play and win; now that’s swag
For twenty years he has been the face of the MLB
Games played in 2123 
Scored runs 1569
He won his 5th and final championship in 2009
One of the greatest shortstops that would ever be
He was 1 of 37 players with 1000 RBI
Jeter had five Silver Slugger Awards, two Hank Aaron Awards, a Roberto Clemente Award, and had 118 runs
On his face for 20 seasons is a permanent grin that shows he’s having fun 
Jeter had 248 more hits than any other player 
He may have been known as a singles hitter 
A playoff game (158) over the course of his career and owns a .308 BA with 20 HR and 61 RBI, scoring 111 runs and racking up 200 hits
No steroids just natural God given athletics that’s legit   
The winner of five Gold Gloves and 358 career stolen bases
So many opponents and haters he leaves them with tear filled eyes and permanent grinned faces 
The idea in baseball is to score more runs than the other guy, which is how Jeter earned his living
Respect is definitely earned not given

“Derek has been the benchmark for character and class in a baseball uniform. He has inspired a generation to play baseball the way it was meant to be played. It has been an honor to play against him. On a lighter note this means two things: no more clutch hits against the Rays AND, another pooling of funds to buy a Yankee a farewell gift! Cheers to him” 
— Rays third baseman Evan Longoria 

Copyright © Jeffrey Lee

Details | Retirement Poem | |

61 and Done

When you’re born into this world of ours.
You have no idea if you’ll reach its ivory towers.
If you’re lucky to be born into a house of wealth.
Chances are, you’ll go far, have money for yourself.

And even if you aren’t a stiff, who got a lucky draw.
You can still makes millions, as we certainly have saw.
So what exactly is the definition of a successful life?
Money, fame, success, children and a loving wife?

My point of view is one that’s true, what my father told me.
Son, peace of mind, if you can find, you’ll never end up lonely.
I heard the words, not one absurd, but somehow didn’t listen.
For I’m 61, my life’s not fun, not an enviable position.

How I got here, perhaps that’s the question on your mind.
It would take a book to explain, how I came into this bind.
I’ll give you the short of it, I made some bad decisions.
And now it seems that I’m living in the Spanish Inquistion.

But you’re not dead you say, there’s more life has to give.
I agree and want to be out of this insane prison and to live.
Want to enjoy, to employ, the gifts and all the wonder.
And not be attacked, from the back and live a life asunder.

At 61, your life’s not done, you could have died at twenty.
You’ve had many years upon this earth, enjoyed it aplenty.
But if you’re broke, your fire’s unstoke, not a life of envy.
You ask yourself day and night, what will be my end be?

If I had fifty thousand dollars at this point in my life.
I’d create a machine, that would put away all my strife.
So if I can sell this house I own for more than what I bought her
I’ll take the profit, if I can, if I’m not underwater.

And with that money, this ain’t funny, I’ll make a whole lot more.
For I have ideas in my head that will even up the score.
It’s sad, it’s true what I must do, and list this property.
And chances are, I’ll go far, live life properly.

Copyright © Guy Chaifetz

Details | Retirement Poem | |

Another Day Without a Dollar

Another day without a dollar.
Another day, I’m not a scholar.
Makes me yell, scream and holler.
Another day without a dollar.

Another day, not one red cent.
Another day, must I repent?
What the hell, can’t pay the rent.
Another day, not one red cent.

Another day, and there’s no money.
Another day, and it’s not funny.
I can sell, as sweet as honey.
Another day, and there’s no money.

Another day, and I’m still broke.
Another day, no fire to stoke.
As I can tell, I’m not a bloke.
Another day, and I’m still broke.

Another day without a job.
Another day, I’m no slob.
I don’t smell, and I won’t rob.
Another day without a job.

Another day, when I’m on top.
Another day, this has to stop.
Things will gel, they’ll be a pop.
And on that day, I’’ll be on top.

Copyright © Guy Chaifetz

Details | Retirement Poem | |

My Energy Has Flown

Much as I'd like to do what I used to At 78, my energy has flown It's really not matter of choice at all The body decides on it's own Oh how I wish I still had the energy As I did just ten years ago Age has a way of deciding for us How far our body can go Must always try to really stay active Retirement years can be long Mental abilities stay almost the same Physically it's a different song Physical exercise is very important To maintain our youthful zest Otherwise the body starts to shut down And memories are all we have left © Jack Ellison 2013

Copyright © Jack Ellison

Details | Retirement Poem | |

A Once Active Soul

Been retired for over three years now I've finally accepted this role As a senior citizen sent out to pasture Not good for this once active soul Poetry has sure helped fill in the gap But looking for something else Maybe creating a children's picture book Got a mind for it I've always felt Not saying my mind is childlike or such But it's probably close to the truth Always was able to get down to their level Even though I'm long in the tooth So wish me well in whatever endeavour Don't need to make one red cent You can wager I'm gonna eventually find it The activity for which I'm now meant © Jack Ellison 2013

Copyright © Jack Ellison

Details | Retirement Poem | |


When I think of all I've done
Plans that kept me on the run
I kind of wonder every day
How I pissed my time away
In my thirties there was cash
Not one buck saved
Not one buck stashed
Sure I thought I could reach fame
From art or science
What a shame
For these goals I truly went
And never saved a single cent
So now it's rough
Though I'm not broke
Just don't live like other folk
My neighbors run out nights for eats
Can't afford such costly treats
When Winter comes they go away
I freeze my rear
I'm forced to stay
Yet I feel the need to try
To make some mark before I die
For in truth these other folk
Live a life that's just a joke
The men dried up some years ago
Their wives plan daily where to go
Their brains are focused on the past
No way to know how long they'll last
So my future's not to dread
Even now I'll move ahead

Copyright © Gary Kraidman

Details | Retirement Poem | |


Kind eyes peer 
out of pages 
gentle features 
of grace replace 
calculated poses 
touched by 
the sun-The sun 
color --into his 
cheeks and face 
hints of roses. 
And yes 
I believe 
my eyes as they 
No doubt- 
Obviously we have 
met here before.. 
Yet unscathed 
by this world 
We come back 
There could be more 
like us 
So we are here 
to watch and wait

Copyright © Vicki Acquah

Details | Retirement Poem | |

Once Upon a Poetic Moon

The carpet's paid for; God Bless the TV
It keeps us informed.
Cosy in our little room with the curtain drawn
one thing's for certain, we still have
our window on the world

Slowly we've slipped
into 'couch-potato-hood'
Rarely, we fight, over which shows are good
You hold the remote,"It's understood."

Flip, flip, you change channels, searching
for a show with some meaning to you, while
I with books piled high beside me, sit oblivious-
searching for meaning in poetry
I battle with inadeqate words against
the TV's droning tune

Some night I'll write one that 
shoots holes in the moon.

Copyright © Suzanne Delaney

Details | Retirement Poem | |

Off the Bench

my baseball playing days in Teeners league
hardly played my main position was bench
by not playing I never had fatigue
use to dream of being like Johnny Bench

in the navy I wasn’t on the bench
I was a star during those times at sea
In France I even spoke a little French
my time out at sea I truly felt free

those days are gone yet I’m reliving them
poetry has been that light at the end
it has nothing to do with my brain stem
I admit this is my life no pretend

I have lived on a bench for a few years
it felt that way yet I never shed tears

Copyright © Robert Heemstra