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Age Relationship Poems | Age Poems About Relationship

These Age Relationship poems are examples of Age poems about Relationship. These are the best examples of Age Relationship poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Blank verse |

An Aging Wife

I look at her and I can see
a woman approaching slowly 
the land of old age, her 
night-black hair invaded by
lonely grey strands, stragglers
of an approaching army, a 
relentless force built over
sixty years, stealing bits of 
her beauty, loosening her
skin, lightening her bones.

I now can easily see the old woman
she will become, and while I miss her
light-stepping, insouciant youth
which pulled both heart and body,
at last I can hear love's secret sound
as she draws my soul ever closer.

Copyright © L. J. Carber | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

Allow me to be your friend

I'm young and your old ...
Isn't that what you've told ...
It's not the age that I care about ...
But I want someone to hear my heart when it shouts ...
I've felt pain for so many years ...
Until love became my biggest fears ....
I don't want to hurt you and I don't want to get hurt again ....
So please allowed me to be your friend, don't walk away and leave pain ....
I'm not ready to love and neither love is ready for me ....
So please don't walk away , just let things to be what it wants to be ....

Copyright © Dalia Shahein | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

Fake Words

Fake Words – Zamreen Zarook

God have given us mouth,
Not to speak to north and south,
Tongue is given under an oath,
So it’s our duty to protect them both.

Girls chat fake with boys,
Having a notion that the boys are toys,
They often make varied noise,
Thinking to keep a trap on handsome guys.

Boys are also human being,
So it’s not possible being clean,
Things varies in the way they are seen,
So positive thinking will make you keen.

Boys’ minds are pure,
As it is pure bio,
So don’t try to pour vino,
Which will take decades to get cure.

Copyright © Zamreen Zarook | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

Thank you

Thank you – Zamreen Zarook

Thank you is a sweet word in the nature,
You may be a guy of adventure,
May be you are a person of agriculture,
What matters is your architecture.

Never forget the people, who guided you,
In no degree neglect who were with you,
Don’t ever overlook a creature, who gave a smile to you,
Because, you will meet them above you.

People forget the past due to selfishness,
They have no time to remember their unawareness,
Society, most of the times behave in awfulness,
They will understand when their lives come in to bitterness.

Be a person to thank and remember,
Don’t consider them as December,
Because, you might need them in November,
So, always be as a good subscriber.

Copyright © Zamreen Zarook | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

The Happy Dress

It’s a mother-in-law’s right, her prerogative 
To ‘drop in’ on her son almost any time,
But a mother-in-law should always be prepared
For almost anything she may find.

So, Mother Cready dropped in unannounced;
But as she approached her son’s front door,
Suddenly it opened.  “Ta Da!  Do you like my happy dress?”
His young wife stood there in her ‘all in all’…nothing more.

“Oh, my word!” Mother Cready exclaimed with surprise.
“Why are you naked?  Are you insane?”
Just as surprised, the young wife pulled her inside.
“Please, Mother Cready…if you’ll just let me explain.

You see, when Mac has had a rough day,
When he’s been under a lot of stress,
Sometimes I meet him at the door
With a smile and a kiss in my happy dress.

It always relaxes him and makes him happy,
Then he makes me very happy too.
It works for Mac and me, Mother Cready;
Maybe it would work for you.”

“We’re too old for such.” scoffed Mother Cready.
“Perhaps if we were young like the two of you.”
But, on her way home, she decided
She was definitely going to try it too.

So, she bathed and put on some nice perfume,
Fixed her make-up and her hair.
She was thinking some very sexy thoughts,
But she had to hurry…no time to spare.

She heard her husband’s car in the driveway;
And as he approached their front door,
She threw it open.  “Ta Da! Do you like my happy dress?"
She stood there in her ‘all in all’…nothing more.

She saw a little grimace cross his face,
But that was not the worst.
Then he said, “I appreciate your happy dress, my dear;
But maybe you should have ironed it first.”


“Well…your ‘happy dress’ could use some ironing;
But my birthday suit could use some starch.”
He kissed her. “Bet you and I can work it out.”;
And off to bed they marched.

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Details | I do not know? |


I am God's child, first and forever I am known by many different titles, a daughter I am a wife I am a mother I am a grandmother I am a poet I am by several ways, known as a sister I am an acquaintance I am a loyal friend I am a stranger I am a cousin I am an Auntie I am a niece But who is this person, they all call "Denise?" She is a child to God She is a niece She is a cousin She is a stranger She is a loyal friend She is an acquaintance She is known to many, a sister She is a poet She is a grandmother She is a mother She is a wife She is known as a daughter to many She is everything, she'd ever dreamed her life to be.... She is happier than she ever imagined possible SHE IS "DENISE"

Copyright © Denise Hopkins | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Who Am I

A new photograph floats to the surface
Playfully dressing up as the world around me
Hat, striped socks and all
Tiptoeing at the top for one last sweet moment 
Before sinking back into my ocean mind.

One after another they arrive
Single file,
Steeping my eyes in the world 
As the minds shutter, ever fluttering 
Strings together this conscious stream I play in.

My photographs fade in time’s wrinkled arms.
Joining their brothers and sisters at the ocean floor,
They hold hands and try to answer the question that is always asking itself:
Who am I?

Jacob Reinhardt

Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

Our Legacy

He is my fortress and my strength
His love he has proven at length
In times of sickness and in times of health
He has remained open not stealth.
In youth we loved passionately
With children we loved affectionately
In middle age we loved calmly
With age we love patiently.
Many decades we leave behind us
Yet a few decades remain ahead of us
We are free to say what is on our mind
Knowing we’ve survived the test of time.
When money we had little of 
When children were ill 
When we were hurt by family or friends – 
When one was ill, the other thrived
we held on
so neither was ever left behind.
This is the legacy we leave 
Not of a love that is divine
But of a love that has ridden the roller coaster ride
 And survived.

Copyright © Natala Orobello | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

The Score

A very rich old man, still handsome in his way,
Was in New York’s most exclusive jewelry store,
Paying over nine thousand dollars for a gem-encrusted necklace.
‘Thank you so much, Mr. Didwell.  Will there be anything more?”

Beside the old man was an ethereal young beauty,
A body made for sin and a most angelic face.
Her sweet giggle was a lilting song of innocence.
Only such a necklace could match her natural grace.

“Oh Pookie, you’re just too, too sweet.”
She kissed his cheek. “You’re just so good to me.”
Then she purred, “And I want to be good to you.
Just you wait ‘til we get home…you’ll see.”

The old man winked at the salesman,
Knowing that he knew the “score.”
“Oh Sweet Thing, you’re already good to this old man.
You’re worth all I give and so much more.”

She danced on air as they left the store.
They crawled into his limo, and as it pulled away,
The old man turned to his young beauty and said,
“Sweet Thing, there’s something I must ask today.

If I lost everything, if I wasn’t rich any more,
Would you still love me as I love you?”
“Oh Pookie, you know I would;
And I would miss you too.”

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Romanticism |

Can you feel me

Feel me standing there
on the draw bridge
that stands stubburn and erect
over the rushing waters blown by the wind
back and forth.
I listened to the crows
posted on gargoils designed
of eightenth century Gothic architecture
singing their death songs,
when the sun is setting in the far.

The voices of women passing
startle me with a feeling of sorrow
I can't breathe, I am dying.
Feel me, can you feel me rot away?
Slowly but surely rot away
as time passes with ease,
and taxi cabs take smiling, intoxicated faces
to wayward cafes, oh how they screech to a halting stop
and wave to me to get in.

"No thank you, I'd rather walk." I say to the smiling faces
highly intoxicated with the thought of the birds and the bees
rattling around in their empty minds.
Then they drive off, into the city lights and turn a darkened corner.
I look at the rushing water
and feel myself rot away
slowly but surely rot away.

Can you feel me?
Can you hear me?
Can you see me?
Feel my heart thump with slow paces
that manage to keep up with fast melodies.
Of songs that play in your mind
only the ones that make you sigh
and think those one days in Spring time
as you walked over the draw bridge
and paid no mind to the water underneth.
I hear no more talk of you and me, I hear no more talk
of the good old times we all shared.
Time has passed, as I take my last breathe
and hold my chest and shead a tear.
Feel me, can you?
If you can, put your hand to my weak heart 
and feel it thump away with every second wasted
on useless items.
Now, see me a man of one time greatness
reflect his life with a reflection in the water below.
How I sigh and cry and breath heavely,
as I feel myself rot away.

The voices of woman pass me by.
Tomorrow is a new day,
for the smiling faces in taxi cabs will go home
and soak their raging hangovers with cool, wet rags.
As I still stand on the draw bridge singing with the crows,
feeling myself rot away.

Can you feel me without you, rotting away?
I surely can feel myself rot.
Such a heavy word, "rot"
So vulgare, yet a great description of me,
without you.

I pull out a shawl you once wore and I kiss it.
As the wind gusts and the sun rises and my shadow
comes to meet me, the wind shall take my last memory
of you away.
And I shall weep no more.
Then what will I do? Shall I walk the streets
and think of you.
Yes you, still rambling all throughout my head
like a lose screw.
Can you feel me? Feel me rot away
feel me think about you, and all your works.
Can you feel me?

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

What's it like to be a twin

The answer used to come with great ease
My answer wasn’t an answer at all, but a complimentary question,
“What’s it like to not be a twin?”

I bypassed the story of the grape jelly on mom’s new carpet when we were toddlers, 

The 8 years of elementary school and junior high where we shared a classroom,
In 8 years I never had to write down an assignment, she was the conscientious one,

I played the violin, she played the piano, when my brother came home from the seminary  UNSUPPORTED CODE WE UNSUPPORTED CODE  gave him a concert

We weren’t identical, she was the cautious one, I was the adventurer
She took a job in high school, and when time came to retire, she was still working for that company,

On the other hand I changed employers every few years, “the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence”.

She never lived more than about 5 miles from our childhood home, yet in her travels to Europe she probably logged more passenger miles than I did including two tours of duty in Thailand and four on Guam.

Now I am alone, my coconspirator has passed on,
I’ll have to take blame for the jelly on the carpet, take down my own assignments, and do everything the same way that single birth people have always done.

What’s it like to be a twin?
It’s like no experience you have ever had, you’re always connected, you grow up with a built in playmate, you have someone that always takes a special interest in your wellbeing.  

I realize all this now because she’s gone,  now I see what  it’s like to be a single birth and frankly, it’s a much bleaker existence than being a twin, to be more direct, being a single sucks, I want my twin back. 

Copyright © Jim Martin | Year Posted 2015

Details | Concrete |

Collective Recognition

Modern day Empire
The same as old,
Man doesn't really have time
Just Inventions and different clothes. 
Still craving our nature the two split purpose,
Consumption and reproduction
All else is conjuring vanity, 
An evolving Microchip of lost perception, a tinted clarity.
Yet we entrapped ourselves into a diamond cast,
Being compounded by every grasp that meets ear, eye and touch. 
Never forget the truth bearing lust, 
that feeling of inner-ness that splinter-hair precision awareness 
And ask the question you've subconsciously locked away
Why are you being and what are the aims? 
And then at that moment your shell will fall apart 
so remind yourself of the real truth the binds mind and heart, 
and roam among your ancestors in the lyceum of endless fascination 
in one's mighty reflection and complacence.

Copyright © Paul K K | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

Is It God We Trust Or Leave In the Dust

Is It God We Trust? Or Leave In the Dust? As our courts remove God from this great nation. We are left with a confused and lost generation! As God is taken away from our public schools. A huge tide of immorality is what “rules.” The Bible is often mocked and discarded. It was on it’s principles this country was started! Just about anything of God seems to get scorned. So many “rush” to worship many ungodly forms. As God’s name is often tossed and thrown out. We tend to forget what HE is all about! Too often, his plans for living are tossed and abused. No wonder, there’s many who are lost and confused! As people forget God and worship the fallen creature. They look to themselves and “glorify” their features. Many ignore God, and get involved in deep addictions. And with this, come disease, heartache and afflictions! As God looks and sees this nation “bleeding.” It’s his righteousness, that we need to be seeking! If we would humble ourselves, he would hear our prayer! He loves all of us! And he really does care! Won’t you come to HIM, And invite him in? Won’t you allow him to be your master and friend? He brings strength and nourishment to the soul! It’s only in him that we can be made whole! By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ballad |

My addiction

I have an addiction...
It dont matter what time of day it is my addiction is there...
Not always in the literall since...
But it is always on my mind...
I lay my head down to sleep at night thinking about you...
I sleep dreaming about you...
I wake up thinking about you...
Your always on my mind...
No matter what I do my addiction is always on my mind...
Even if your not the last one I talk to before I lay my head down to sleep...
I still lay my head down thinking of you...
I just cant get enought of you...
No matter what my addiction is there...
My addiction has a name...
Her name is Shelby Nestle...
No matter how much we text or talk on the phone...
Its never enough...
I cant get enough of your beautiful eyes...
I cant get enough of that beautiful smile...
I cant get enough of kissing your soft lips...
That feeling I get inside when our lips touch...
Or holding you in my arms...
This is a new addiction to me...
Never have I been this addicted this quick...
It scares the shyt outta me...
But then I love it...
You are my new addiction baby... 
You are my...
My heroin...
My ecstacy... 
My cocaine...
You are my own personal drug...
I cant imagine and addiction stronger...
You are my addiction...
I wouldnt even think about trying to break this addiction...
I wouldnt go to rehab for this addiction...
I like it to much...

Copyright © jaremy mount Jr | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

A Special Value

Why not value our aged
And always let them know
Their brilliance radiate
A special loving glow

They only ask a visit
If just for a little while
They'll shower us with kisses
With love on every smile 

They want to be made special
Even if it's a lie
With promise to come back real soon
As we leave their side

What we take for granted
Never lasts for long
We think tomorrow that they'll be here
But one day they'll be one!

Brenda Elizabeth Rose

Copyright © Brenda Rose | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet |

Our Love Endures

Our Love is sure, as sure can be sure.
Our love is pure, as pure can be pure.
Our love matures as we mature.
Our love endures as we endure.

Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2014

Details | Senryu |

Ageing together

It used to be lust
but the passing years have forged
a mellow friendship

Copyright © Viv Wigley | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ballad |


I am not made a full blown beauty..
Nor I live a life of purity; charity & piety..
All I like to do is to live with identity..
Not of being a witty but a life of humility..

I tried to be a more social person..
Cracking out the shell I have put up..
Breaking from my own weakness..
Doing best in my found strengths..

I have craved to reach out to people..
Widening my horizon, increasing my knowledge and awareness..
Learning to acknowledge fellow human beings..
Regardless of who they are and where they from..

They said: "I must not do this as it is dangerous.."
but I stand to what I know: "Inside all human beings is the reflection of God.."
I give due and equal chance..
As my God have freely given me opportunities too..

We people are living in same earth..
Different are we because of status, faith or race..
Let not this be the reason for us to be divided..
Rather we must come in unison conquering divisions..

By: olive_eloi

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

Not Good Enough Huh

People these days don't know a relationship from relation lust
In this lifetime getting in a relationship takes bold guts
Heart is wounded by the emotional cuts
No ifs, ands, or buts
For her I laid it all on the line, only to get stabbed in the back
Gave her my all, but she looks past that
But looks directly at what I can't do
Instead of what I CAN do
She said I don't do anything for her
She's so rude
I ask why don't she leave then
Now she has an attitude
Using my intuition is what built me
You mad at me sweetheart, you're looking guilty
Find another guy to suck up to you because I'm not the one
North Pole hearted is what I've become
An employed/college student isn't good enough.
Get with a dropout/drug dealer and see the definition of rough
I've walked and took buses for you
More times than a few
Excuse me if I don't have that much time on my hands
Therefore on the other side of my heart is where you stand
If you wanna leave then leave
It's only leverage that you didn't believe
You have the ignorant capacity and audacity to compare me to your exes
You laugh at me because I'm car less and he has a Lexus
Real funny
I'm still making money
Might be a little slow
But even a frozen river still flow
My life is more realistic
Than materialistic
To the end
So even without a car I'm still the best boyfriend
Met your fam, gave you advice
You question what I do for you
That's not nice
I guess my devotion isn't the potion
This relationship vehicle will never get in motion
I'm so confident from head to toe
Skin to bone
So love me or leave me alone

Yea you heard me, love me or get lost. Where I'm headed on the road doesn't require 
paying a toll at your heart. I told you from the jump, since I'm busy so much you must trust 
me when I'm away from you. But being immature like you are, other people can easily get 
in your ear. They don't know me or what I do. But it's ok, I will gladly grant you my wishes 
on whoever you get with after me. I know I'm a good gentlethug. Women twice my age tell 
me that all the time. I can't get a girl my age to see that though. My dad always said I'm 
smart beyond my years. I didn't know that many years ahead though lol. I feel like I lost 
weight lately for some reason. When or if you get it together you know my number. If I must 
get in your head through these poems, I'm sure you already know I can write all day.

Copyright © Richard-Jamaal Keen | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme |

It use to be me

It use to be me
who lit up your eyes
It use to be me
Who told you goodnight
It use to be me
Who asked you to stay
And lay here beside me
Till I drift away
But now there's another 
Whose heart that you need
Who only needs grandma 
To comfort his weeps

It use to be me
Now, a son that's too old
To walk with your hand
When I feel all alone
It use to be me
Who ran to your arms
Now another has comfort
Safe from all harm
From a son I am grateful
What you've given my child
But it use to be me
Who brought you a smile
So I hope he remembers
What these memories mean
That it use to be me
But time never sleeps

Kevin D. Fix

Copyright © Kevin Fix | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Sandcastles of Time

We erected sandcastles on the seashore.
I designed them and you painstakingly formed them
into edifices, complete with turrets, flags, and moats.
We even won the contest for the most authentic.
Now the only castles we build are in our imaginations.
You don’t even recognize your queen anymore, and I 
am sad at the ravages that Alzheimers has afflicted my king.
Oh, to be young again, sit at sunset and watch the tide
sweep away our castles, slowly and gently.
Perhaps we can sit on the balcony tonight and hold hands.
This may be the day you once more call me queen.

Copyright © Iris Deurmyer | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |

Age ain't nothing but a number

Age ain’ t nothing but a number
Who are you to say someone’s a   rapist  ?
Why in the hell ages matter to you ?
Can younger and older be in love ?
Can parents understand how their   baby girl feels  ?
The law the system the heartless destroyer is strict and wrong to judge and destroy a person’s human quality emotions    based on their age level.
Aaliyah has a good point
Aaliyah was right
But the world didn’t listen to her.
Age ain’t nothing but a number.
Love has no ages on it to be stop.
You can’t stop love.
You can’t collapse it.
Love is forever.
You don’t need parent’s approval.
You don’t need the law’s approval.
All you have is your love your romance and your decision to make.
Calling somebody a rapist is wrong unless  it’s evidence.
Don’t judge lovers.
Don’t judge their loving behavior.
Don’t judge their age.
As long as they are happy and in love then age ain’t but a number.
Throwing it down the low ain’t nothing but a blessing and full of sensitivity with feelings.
We’re in a society where people think that an underage girl  can’t be in love with an older guy and he gets in trouble and gets locked up over love.
Paul Walker did it.
R kelly did it.
Why shouldn’t the whole older guys in the society do it ?
Leave love alone.
Leave the age alone 
Let them be in love.
Let them feel special and meaningful to each other.
The intimacy of   moaning sex is a beautiful natural thing at peaceful day and peaceful night.
Love is a drug that attaches a person’s warming connection to someone so dearly special to his or her touching beloved heart even if the age is different it don’t matter.
Screw the law’s acceptance and bullshit.
Screw the parent’s approval.
Screw the media portraying races as rapist.
Screw the age 
We in love
Leave us alone
I love her.
She loves me
My body’s calling upon her love.
Her body’s calling upon my love.
She’s my eternally death.
I’m her eternally death.
Age ain’t nothing but a number 
Ask Aaliyah.
Throwing it down on the low ain’t  nothing but a love blessing of wishes and true deep feelings for one another.
Age ain’t nothing but a number when Romeo fell for Juliet.
Age ain’t nothing but a number when Paul Walker fell for Jasmine rip.
Age ain’t nothing but a number when Aaliyah fell for R.kelly rip.
Age ain’t nothing but a number when my Uncle Clarence dating and married Sharon rip.
And age ain’t nothing but a number when people just love being haters and lastly judgmental.

Copyright © Cmack Estevez | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

Am I Really Happy

Am I Really Happy?

With everything I’ve acquired and got...
What kind of happiness has it brought?

With everything I have or can name...
Has it given me joy or brought me shame?

With all that this world can give me…
What kind of life “lies beneath me?”

With all of my possessions and wealth…
Do I have contentment and “true” wealth?

I want it to be known and wish to express…
I’m not so sure, I’m what you would call “blessed.”

There’s something I know to be certain.
Tomorrow could be life’s “final curtain.”

There’s something that’s been on my mind.
Have I given God just some of “my” time?

There’s one thing I’m going to do… And do it now!
I’m going to come to the Lord and humbly bow.

This is something I need to say and do...
Give it all to God!  And tell him;

Something that I should have done already...
When Christ comes again…  I want to be ready!

God’s joy and happiness is true and very real!
The presence of God..,   I can already feel!

What God has given to me, no one can take away!
For he comforts me and is with me every day!

By Jim Pemberton   

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |

What is Sex

What is Sex ?
Sex is something that we all need.
Sex is a drug of love and caring.
Sex is a thing that pleasures our body and gets us in the motivation that takes us into somewhere that we haven’t did or seen before.
The moaning and the sounds is a sign of feeling good and fulfilled with excitement.
It’s a strong desire that makes us feel like we are loving and soft sensitive hearted.
Sex can change us I get that but it is also a sign of love making.
If a woman asks you do you love her when you start to make love then your answer should be I do in all my heart and I promise that I will be gentle and tender if you tell me too.
Sex can be a dis pleasant   when you don’t give a damn and don’t love that person.
But it takes a real  person  to know that never take love and sex for granted but to  cherish it and joy it.
Sex is a great thing.
Sex is love if you don’t take it for granted.
Sex is peace
Sex is intimacy
Sex is motivation.
And Sex is a sign  of feeling great and having a future in the next life that  awaits you.

Copyright © Cmack Estevez | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet |

I Live a Hundred Years a Day

In rain and sun, entrapped by death, we cuss,
Through pain we run for love in times of hope—
The world we dance within makes dust of us,
With all the light, when silver clouds elope.
I've trained for this a million lives before,
And every cast I've worn was blessed in stars—
I may or may not have a million more,
But I know I'll be proudly dressed in scars.
So you can hang with all the doubt you twist,
And tangle up the grit you choose to lack,
While I maintain that time does not exist;
Your days will all cave in when you look back.
And yet I understand your need to stray—
It's hard to live a hundred years a day.

Copyright © Lxnnnie Rutledzh | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |


Winter morning light filters through lace curtains,
Reaches down, spills onto the corner kitchen sink,
Through east and south facing windows.
The glass jar, the scrub brush and pad in plastic butter dish,
A down-turned, empty yogurt container,
The pink plastic rinse pan
Keep company around the sink's edges.
The dried-out, yellow dishrag
Straddles the stained white porcelain wall between
Its twin chambers.  Home.

The three-track cribbage board,
Deck of blue and white checkered "Boardwalk Casino" cards,
Awaiting friendly competitors,
The gilded "Fiftieth" anniversary photo frame.
Adorned with golden bow, glass-winged butterfly,
Displayed proudly on the fireplace mantel.
The couple with their Papal Blessing, 
Sharing in the holding. Home.

Morning light streams through
Aged lace curtains, into the living room,
Over the fireplace, bricks set years ago,
Solid as the blessed couple.
Solid as the Home.

She struggles with the details of conversation,
And asks, as she does each time, "Arrr you mare-eed?"
Trilling the r's, after greeting me
With her Mother's heart, "My Myzeleh Surptizeleh"
In her heavily accented German voice.
"Howv many cheel-drrren you havf?"  Home.

The dated, yet functional, lime-colored shag carpet,
Symbolic of their stoic, conservative, old European ways;
The lace doily on the end table, photos of a grandchild,
A son, a daughter; and one of them, too.  Home.

The pink plastic Rosary ever present
On the coffee table in front of the well-worn sofa.
Her days spent there, 
Sometimes sitting, sometimes lying.
The beads close at hand, atop a book of Prayers.
Crocheted adornments on the walls,
A wooden decorator spoon,
A picture framed pair of swans,
With them all those years.  Home.

Copyright © Victor Faesser | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |

Little adult, little girl

When I was a little girl,
mama put me in a silky pink dress.
I was the princess of the family.
Their glory.
When I am a little adult,
I remove everything and lay myself bare.
I am the mouse in the household.
Their shame.
When I was a little girl,
papa carried me on his shoulder.
I would reach for the highest flower
and pick it for him to smell.
When I am a little adult,
boys carry me to the bedroom.
I would reach for the faintest lamp
and trace a smile on his back.
When I was a little girl,
me and brother shot nerf guns.
We splashed, swirled, swam
in the magnificent pool.
When I am a little adult,
brother would shoot me piercing glances.
We smack, whack, spank
louder than the kitchen sink.
When I was a little girl,
I was posed to take the best photo
from morning till night.
I thought I were once an immortal statue.
When I am a little adult,
I run naked in front of the mirror
from night to dawn.
I thought I were a beast gone wild.
When I was a little girl,
they called me little miss sunshine.
I radiated with joy,
beamed with laughter.
When I am a little adult,
they call me troubled thunderstorm.
I break down with tears,
scream with hysteria.
When I was a little girl,
I was not afraid.
Things happened, good or bad,
I forgot and went on skipping ropes.
When I am a little adult,
I am so afraid.
Everything has happened, good and bad,
I caught each one of them, glued to the past.
When I was a little girl,
I was a little adult;
When I am a little adult,
I am a little girl.

Copyright © Helen Cheng | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |


She dreams of a throne
where she is not alone 

Dreams of stars 
That aren't to far 

Wishes for peace 
where pain is least 

Hopes for grace 
where she can see his face 

And still know her fame 
hasn't changed 
her name

Copyright © Tobi Osunkoya | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |

On Turning Fifty

He listens to The Beatles in the midst
of a generation which doesn't know Lennon
or the Bee Gees. 
His youthful neighbors always tell him to keep
up to date with current music,
but he can only grow older, not younger.
Sometimes he stands outside the balcony,
gazing at a city that has become more populated,
and more detached -
a glass of scotch is a perfect company
when he feels alone.
A birthday cake written "HAPPY 50 YEARS,"
and a packet of liquor chocolates
wait for him on a round glass table;
he tries to remember when was the last time
he could tell his soul that he was really happy..... 

Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2017

Details | Romanticism |

Baby Sitter

I watch her sleeping a helpless rose without me Like a man watching her sleeping wife Her life looking innocent and scary I then change diapers She hates diapers But she cries when you don't remove them And mourns as you remove them Just like her mother Then we play games together I act her age to win her love I prepare meals and feed her Like my bride on the wedding day With these forty years i am making soon Her twenty years makes me that Her baby sitter

Copyright © Rodgers Roger | Year Posted 2013