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Age Women Poems | Age Poems About Women

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

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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 | Dramatic monologue |

growing up too soon

growing up too soon

	you said: is there anything more excruciating than lagging behind
						being passed by
	a hasbeen
				still knocking on portals
twitching toes twirling thumbs
         in fidgety drawn-curtained waiting rooms

and the always taken-for-granted toiling mothers maimed in mid-life stoopbent under rotting burdens eternally putting-up with their disgruntled men pining for fresh meat their children far too busy suckling roaming the woods for stray milch cows

	are parents less prone to feeling deserted or girls when young given to much  much too much   you know to what  the side-saddle bum flabs the hangdog lips and nose-tips and nostrils sore grainy
			innocence crushed
(wu wang  hexagram 25)
		the conning leer lurking behind the simulated orgasm
		blazé finicky  O dear my split varnished nail	
the mignardise

	growing up too soon
leaves you a little behind  hesitant  no fresh tarts nor the leisure of making belief the privilege of mending emotional fences	nor the time to toast things over in the backburner or prepare for the day when you may retire in style proclaim to the world your ardent wishes

	growing up too soon
leaves you a toddler thrusting up in the hunched back  regrets simmering in the bitterly polluted taste buds chewing the tongue neither the leisure to pipedream  muted laughing peels reverberating rocambolesque within soiled sheets  keeping the persona humoured  till you stand up wide awake stripped
	nor the frolicking   flaming female mid-summer fudge

	growing up too soon
is not just bypassing a whole generation of ghosts  you look back dazed to watch grand nephews and nieces twittering in space-curved time living in a sort of limbo  in a cramped attic crib snorting the crawling dust unread books breed  heating for the third time your oat meal porridge  casting stolen looks from behind drawn curtains  wondering who’s going to benefit from your garnered gains  watch callow lads and frisky girls and wonder when was it you last grew up dallied amongst them 
	unsure you knew any of the kind you see as women today

	growing up too soon
is to forfeit something you never had nor can ever have  yet you refuse to let it go  even as unwon bread  all through your teens  seizing handouts the rightful boon  until the recurring pain of tendons exploding make you see round the foreshadowed corner  round the spacetime’s curve 
		and know
	there’s really nothing to cry about
nor there’s anything you can do without
	the damn thing which slips through the thinning crop straggly on your bald pate

	growing up too soon’s
  a blessing
	you know you want
		for the maimed
		    for the gnarled and contorted
			for the ill-provided
		for the luckless
	   for the inglorious
    damned to a vapid existence
	in the cave of their shameful lameness

how you’d wished you were so blighted 

© T. Wignesan – Paris, re-worked from: longhand notes, 1999

Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |


BLUE-SHAPED hair is styled to rigid perfection by rows of orderly, PINK curlers
BLUE-NOTES from an "Oldies" station linger, a calming WHITE noise to soothe
BLUE-SCENTS of expensive musk linger, permeating the YELLOW walled salon
BLUE-FLAVORED grape juice is thoroughly enjoyed by thirsty GRAY haired patrons 
BLUE-VELVET blouse, worn by an elegant BLACK woman, is admired by all.

Pink shaped flamingos dot the salon decor, bringing a nostalgic feeling
As notes of white laced doilies punctuate the mood of times gone by
In an atmosphere of musky scents, the little parlor glows in a yellow haze
With gray heads of wisdom and manners, their words flavored with grace
To dispel any black mood with a velvet word of care, wearing their BLUE HAIR.

Written on 10/16/2015
By Laura Leiser
Written for COLOR contest

Copyright © Laura Leiser | Year Posted 2015

Details | Dramatic monologue |


I live where angels fear to walk
Don’t ask questions, no one’s gonna talk
Another kid’s innocence is being take
Their thirst for blood will never slacken
Love is something only found in a fairytale
But those don’t comfort, when home is spelled H E L L
Left alone for days on end
Nothing else to do but play pretend
Trying to get lost in a dream
But when that doesn’t help, all you can do is scream
I’ve called the devil by his first name
His eyes are cold, mine are the same
I live where angels fear to tread
By the time you find me, I’ll probably be dead

Copyright © Grace Faolian | Year Posted 2013

Details | ABC |


You send bolts through my skin 
something I was never to 
accomplish with you, when I 
saw you it's like my heart sank 
to my stomach and I was in 
shock my body still my body 
heavy felt like when I moved I 
was about to fall to my knees 
you make me want to get 
inside my brain pick you up and 
take you out pick you one by 
one like a flower because I do 
love you and love you not.

Copyright © brittney lopez | 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 | Rhyme |

Women of age

Women of age

A woman of age popped in last night.
The garden had become wet, might
this gardener – willing yet weak – plane seeds
into where nothing grows, not even weeds.

For this aged garden, has become barren.
No amount of passion nor patient caren
will be able to make life sprout or grow.
This, the garden and gardener doth know,

that when sweet seeds – needs – are sown,
reality comes to light and all is known.
They will come to an end without fertilization.
This awareness, this knowledge, their realization,

that life’s true meaning has ended – procreation,
a dead issue, has become life’s - no perpetuation –
meaning for these tired, aged, lost souls
who’s time has stilled, it no longer  flows

from this garden, yet this gardener doth strain
for what will remain - their immortality, never again
from them to create a new – life’s force to remain.
No longer will they provide new souls for this plane.

From these two, never a story to be told
for they travel down a different road.
Each, on a separate journey, to end
their days, do they, still call each, friend ?

There are so many ideas, points of view, thought
about life’s meaning, so what is it ?, that is taught
by the lessons we have learn ?, the wars fought,
that have brought us closer, yet maybe not

to the understanding of mankind’s existence,
the meaning of humanity ?, or its relevance
to the world we live on, continue destroying.
We are but a disease ?, a virus ?, reaching out, deploying.

B. J. “A ” 2
February 26th 2006

Copyright © William J. Jr. Atfield | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

The Door is Always Open

Things get bad, then they get good again.
You can write yourself angry.
You can write yourself sick.
But never
should you write yourself sorry.

The world, to me, is many things:
A canvas, a movie, a place to store
everything you are and will ever be,
but never a bell jar.

As long as your hands can shake
and your voice can quiver,
never close the door.

Love the ground under your feet,
and your only sadness 
will be that a blanket of sky 
can't keep off the cold. 

Smile with every breath you take, 
and you'll realize that, 
no matter how much you weep,
you will never fill an ocean.

Look inside your heart:
There's answer there.
You'll find,
deep in an oblivion of night,
there is a light somewhere.

It may not be much light,
but it's brighter than darkness.
Follow it.

If you seek, you will find 
yourself always involved in 
and as long as that door never closes,
whatever something will be enough.

I promise.

Copyright © jes russick | Year Posted 2013

Details | Epic |

Statutory Rape 101

Everybody knows that it's against the law for grown men and grown women to date all of the underage boys and girls,. let alone a 14-year-old boy or a 15-year-old girl. The law also states that any adult who tries to have this so-called "intimate sexual relationship" with any of the underage boys and/or girls would likely go to jail for a period of time and upon release, they'll have to be register sex offenders for the rest of their lives. It seems that those teen girls would rather date men in their 20's or 30s than guys their age and those teen boys would rather date women twice their age than girls their age, as well. but luckily, their parents (the mothers and the fathers) are here to prevent these so-called "May-December" relationships from ever happening, especially when they're protecting their teenage offspring from dirt-bags like these would-be pedophiles. But no matter what the parents do, no matter how hard they try, their teen sons and/or daughters, they secretly continuing dating older men/older women, even at night (midnight, 2 am, or 3 in the morning, e.g.). And the next thing everybody knows, their parents, they will have found out about it; thereby finding them in bed with the adults; their parents should make multiple police reports and pud the cradle robbers behind bars for good. Boy this is starting to look like an episode of "Law & Order: Special Victims Unit" (Season 6-Episode 19-Intoxicated featuring Danielle Panabaker) and an episode of "Snapped," especially when Sarah Johnson killed her own parents in cold blood because she was afraid that the late Mr. and Mrs. Alan and Diane Johnson would send this guy name Bruno Santos to prison or have him deported back to Mexico for statutory rape (by way of dating a then-16-year-old girl). There's no way that those teen boys and teen girls are ever going to get into a bunch of serious, intimate relationships with a bunch of would-be cradle-robbing adults. They need to concentrate on their education and they need to be with guys and girls their age. I mean, one teen boy dating a n adult female? One teen girl dating an older man? My God, their parents will be seriously upset about this. Who on Earth would be dumb enough to fall for an older woman or an older man? And if these would-be pedophiles in the form of grown men and women even attempt to rob these teen boys and girls of their innocence and whatnot, the parents are going to have a problem up in here.

Copyright © Brashard Bursey | Year Posted 2011

Details | Couplet |


Only Eve is a madam, 
who is known from Adam.

Volodymyr Knyr

Copyright © Volodymyr Knyr | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

Love Is Louder

Love they say is louder than hate.
But I think that it’s a shame,
That only holds true when you have a pretty face.
Maybe I’m a disgrace,
For saying such a thing,
But think about your life and how true that *****rings.
And I cannot deny what this mirror is reflecting,
What’s standing in my way is only one thing.
It was beauty killed the beast,
In famine it will bring feast.
And sideways glances, second chances, you’ll get those at least.
But what about me?
What about us?
It’s power like money,
It drives greed,
it drives lust.
So what about you?
What can we do?
All I can hear,
The sounds that make the world disappear.
Love is louder than hate, but I can’t hear it from here.

Copyright © Ag Ki | Year Posted 2013

Details | Senryu |

I am getting old

I sneezed
And wet my pants
I am old! 

Copyright © Rahy Hy | Year Posted 2015

Details | Verse |

My Heroine

She wore an Armour over her dress
to go on and fight in the face of death
Joan of Arc is the name of the girl
that died at an age of nineteen years old
For the chance to make a change...
tell me, what have you achieved?

She is my Heroine
This is my Superwoman
The Unconditional Lover
Of the love that does deserve
And she stands to shine upon
the darkness of the night

She's a brave young solidarity
Unforgettable girl to my memory
To save a soul, Rachael (Corrie) lost her own...
Saying 'No', at the age of twenty three
To the Zionist bulldozery,
And the world did nothing at all...

She is my Heroine
This is my Superwoman
The Unconditional Lover
Of the love that does deserve
And she stands to shine upon
the darkness of the night

There are women in time, the idols of how to survive...
That are one of a kind, women of all times... 
Helen Keller, Eva Peron, Queen Elizabeth, Nancy Astor, Anna Frank, Mother Tereasa, 
Princess Diana, Jane Adams, Jane Austin, Catherine the Great, Mme Curie, Zaha 
Hadid, Cleopatra, Queen Victoria, and many more... leaders of all time... be proud to 
be a woman and don't allow men to decide if you have rights or not... you decide...

Copyright © Jouana Habib | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose |

Little girls

          Coming from the same plane.....
They start talking, he offers to buy her a drink which she agrees 
A soft drink, it's just fanta
He shows her how to put the straw in through the lid
This is her first time using such fancy cups and lids
She is a new traveller, going for further studies
He had mentioned to her that he had already arrived to his destination, Amsterdam 
But as he watches her, her shy eyes, always looking down at her drink 
He suggests that they wash up after their drinks before "their next flight"
He mentions a couple of upscale rooms
She softly declines, she remembers her aunt's words to never trust anyone
     This is the tourist, the man dressed in suit
     The man that can smell an easy prey from far
     He can smell new, naive and fresh as easily as he blinks his eyes
So many years later, the once little girl remembered the tourist 
And wondered how much damage he must have caused on the shores of Mombasa during his tours, preying on poor innocent girls..

She stands at the mirror trying to straighten her short hair
He stands behind a little further watching her
Admiring her growing curves, his eyes move from her rounded bottom, to her hips and as she turns around (unaware of his presence), he continues his adventure to her chest.
     This is the uncle that shamelessly buys his niece underwear
     Very culturally inappropriate 
     He loves when she visits
This is the preteen girl, that hides a lot of this story, family can never know
This is the fifteen year old girl who goes to a 'back door clinic' and aborts
But she is not a little girl anymore, she is a well educated woman holding a phd
But with frequent relationships struggles
Once a week she goes for therapy, to help deal with her demons
     Because someone messed her up


Copyright © njeri hunjeri | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet |

Our age

Even our serious age
does not make us all sage.

Volodymyr Knyr

Copyright © Volodymyr Knyr | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse |

The Variations of Women's valor

When occasionally making eye contacts with young girls
That is often that they look away quickly, as they are shy           
When making eye contacts with middle-aged women
Most likely that we have to be forced to retreat back.           
Always I meet old ladies in their eyes           
I am quite sure that they look very glad                   

This feeling! ah!  I have to say         
That women grow valor strong by strong          
While men accumulate timid as time goes by

Copyright © Xuefeng Pan | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |

I Had A Dream

I had a dream that Malcolm X, Martin Luther the King Jr., and Tupac
was speaking to me
Mourning on why our black’s folks are killing each other mourning because
our generation is getting worser
Mourning because they fought for no reason because our blacks now days
don’t appreciate the freedom that we gave them
I hardly see my black brothers going to college educating themselves
I hardly see educated young black women
The only thing I see now is hoes and thugs walking up and down our
streets that we once walk and fought on
And why are my brothers killing each other thinking that our own kind is
the enemy
While some white men is in the background smoking a cigar laughing and
just watching the madness
Tell me why when I look at the black communities the only thing I see is
mothers crying and babies dying
Young black boys carrying guns knowing that they can not handle it
Tell me why I don’t see any real black leaders stepping up trying to stop
the violence so the world can at least get better
Tell me why I don’t see any black leaders stepping up and fighting the
truth like we did back then
I know it will pay a cost but at least you fought for something to change a
nation for ever
And I thought that we would change the mind of black people forever but
it looks like it only did for a little while
Because our eyes are fill with tears when we see young black women
pregnant at an early age can’t even afford to take care of the baby
Where are the mothers to tell them to educate themselves and keep their
legs close because they have plenty of time for love
Where are the fathers now days when their son has a full loaded gun ready
to take someone else life
They pull the trigger because they don’t hear that one voice they want to
hear to tell them to stop
They don’t have a father figure in their house so they feel left out when
they see other young men their age with fathers
Tell me why when I hear music now days it doesn’t make sense anymore
Black brothers rapping now talking about killing their own brother and
calling their own black sister out their name
But about thirty years ago our black men respect each other and didn’t call
women out their name
Black women weren’t hoes instead they were educated strong women that
fought against ignorance
Tell me why people don’t listen to us anymore
They just watch the tape and don’t listen to what we had to say
They don’t even open their eyes to see the real truth we told and explain
they don’t even care about what we been through or what we had to give
up so our blacks could have freedom
  I only hope you can change the world Donta go and tell our people to
educate their selves and stick together
So one day you and our black brothers and sisters can change the world

Copyright © Tadon Archer | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain |

Menopause Misery

The menopause has hit me,
My oestrogen is going,
I'm very hot and sweaty,
My face all red and glowing.

My mood is unpredictable,
I scream and then I shout,
My waistbands getting tighter,
I'm fatter without a doubt.

My hair is getting thinner
On the top of my head,
But it's sprouting out of my chin
And upper lip instead.

My mind gets confused,
I'm forgetful, make mistakes,
Everywhere is itchy,
I just want to take a break.

So I'm off to see the doctor
To get some HRT,
Can't deal with all the symptoms
Of this menopause misery!

Copyright © Elizabeth Kinch | Year Posted 2017

Details | Couplet |

I Age

Between us there is only place for tears and sighs
I’m right you wrong
I can’t stand that
I can’t stand this
I’m the queen
I'm superior
I'm the star
I’m the sun
I'm perfect
I'm better
I want
I need
I’m it

All the sudden our world is full of "i"s
The u in us is now just two disjointed "i"s
All is fading, so is it worth it to keep the ties
When the love is long gone from each other eyes

I’m jealous of the us who used to touch the skies
Flying free, careless and happy like butterflies
Just two souls that didn’t care about the why's
Focusing on creating a world free of lies.

Now all the beauty is replaced by hidden guise.
That pride and prejudgments have jeopardize.
The us that once Inspired other’s envies, now agonize
and we’ve just became two specimens that others analyze.

I hate the "i" that refuses to understand the ultimate demise 
the “I” that keeps hoping and begging for a last reprise
Blinded by a love that will no longer compromise 
too afraid to see IT was something “I” fictionalize

I loathe the stubborn “i” that keeps you paralyze
The biases that push you to always scrutinize
The purest soul tendered with no disguise
The “i” in you that no longer sympathize

I’m afraid of the "i” who’s ready to finalize
Of all the voices that pushes me to soliloquize
Screaming, yelling, and telling me to finally realize
It was just make believe, one soul “i” over romanticize

No need playing the blame games or trying to ostracize
There’s always later, maybe time will help it stabilize
There is always a lifetime to try until tomorrow dies
Until there is no time and nothing else to revitalize

You’re it
You need
You want 
You’re better
You’re perfect
You’re the sun
You’re the star
You’re superior
You’re the queen
You can’t stand this
You can’t stand that
You’re right I’m wrong
Does it matter if at the end we are saying our goodbyes.

Copyright © nahomie julien | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |

This is the Day She Turns 30

This is the Day She Turns 30
by Lori Maria Walton

This is the day
when she turns thirty
but it is just a day
that nature, in its eternal flow,
acknowledges with a smile at
human constructs,
which are all caged.

This is the day
when she turns thirty,
receives roses, plays with daisies,
hums a secret love song,
gliding with steady wings
in the conference of the birds,
who are all free.

This is the day, 
when the mirror looks into a blue, shining ocean 
of spectacular eyes and sees
beauty, magic and elegance
making love on the seabed
which is translucent

She rises from the daisies
far above the day
and becomes timeless
she surfs with the minerals under an absolute sky
I see her and I see her beaming
behind a veil of joy

Copyright © Lori Maria Walton | Year Posted 2014

Details | Limerick |


One woman of a certain percentage,
Kept her upkeep to skillful advantage.
As the years sped past,
She maintained her class;
Not turning old but into fine vintage.

Copyright © M.I.N.D.S. INTERNATIONAL | Year Posted 2017

Details | Couplet |

The olds

All what old women own 
for old men is well-known.

Volodymyr Knyr

Copyright © Volodymyr Knyr | Year Posted 2017

Details | Lyric |

Better than others

It's curious 
how people learn
to measure human worth.

When I was a girl
my parents would say
that for me to be better than others
I had to be smarter than others.
So I got the good grades 
without working too hard
and I showed everyone I was smart.

When I was a teen
the world seemed to say
that for me to be better than others
I had to be hotter than others.
So I put on short skirts
and I ate once a day
and I thought I'd be pretty that way.

When I went to college
my classmates would say
that for me to be better than others
I had to have more friends than others.
So I went to the parties,
learned to handle a bong
but those friendships - they didn't last long.

When I started working
my colleagues would say
that for me to be better than others
I had to work harder than others
So I stayed up all night
and I worked till I dropped
and I struggled to rise to the top.

And then I met you
and you'd often say
there's no need to be better than others
just try to be kinder to others.
So I tried to be kind
but it was just too darn hard
How I wish it were enough 
to just be smart!

Copyright © Laila Tov | Year Posted 2017