Narrative Retirement Poems

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

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Details | Narrative |
Best in retirement.

There comes a joy, a contentment not had before in life.

The struggles in life about over, the ordeals mostly gone.

Sweet surrender it is called but it’s more like victory.

Victory over life not had years before.

New friends become familiar, old ones more dear.

For some it is to know steadfastly they are going home.

Not to an earthly dwelling place but an eternal home.

To Loves eternity without question.

Copyright © John Hardison | Year Posted 2016

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Ways to avoid running out of money During your retirement years Do not drink anything but tap water Do not eat regular store bought food Eat leaves and grass and stuff Flavoured with the juice Of a squeezed acorn leaf Food as you know it today is strictly taboo However, occasionally you can have Somebody's left over fries But only once in a six month period And keep it to a quantity of two fries We also recommend you occasionally Go to a restaurant and sit down in a booth However, don't order right away, look around When you notice a family of six leaving And there's still food on their plates Calmly walk over, sit down And start eating their left overs When your waitress comes back To your original table Look the other way and keep eating Keep uttering words like “this is yummy”! Or, “holy crap, this stuff is amazing” This is just some friendly advice To other seniors to hopefully avoid Running out of money during retirement © Jack Ellison 2014

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2014

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When is a newsletter not a newsletter When it's full colour and 36 pages long Approximately 8 years ago Began designing what was then An 4 page black and white newsletter It has since grown into this schmaltzy Quarterly full colour community publication I've always taken great pride In every venture I became involved with Now in my years since retirement This exciting project has my fingers back in the pie It has given me “raison d'être” Translated... “a reason for being” My only regret is that it's quarterly And not monthly which I would much prefer It is so very important to remain active Any way we can in our retirement years © Jack Ellison 2014

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2014

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Hard to believe I'm slowing down Never thought this day would ever come Merrily cruising along Oblivious to all the small changes Suddenly I'm forgetting things Or how to do something That I've been doing by rote For too many years to count... I'm scared! My mind goes wild thinking Of what the future has in store for me! When I was younger The thought rarely occurred to me Almost as if that final day Was forever away... then WHAM! It hit me like a ton of bricks Started wondering, will it be tomorrow Next week... next month Don't usually dwell on it But can no longer ignore it Sadly, no one escapes Even the most mighty and powerful Will finally succumb CRAP! POOP! And all that stuff! © Jack Ellison 2014

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2014

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Woke up this morning, looked at the clock Bleary eyed, thought it read 5:23 Way too early... turned over and went back to sleep Woke up again which seemed like 10 minutes later The clock read 7:42 Thought for a moment in my stupor Holy crap! Gotta get up! Hey wait a minute... I'm retired No one's waiting for me to solve any problems To create a market plan for a new product My big easy chair awaits... SWEET © Jack Ellison 2014

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2014

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“Birth day” is the actual day one exits from the womb, (thereafter, “birthday”, is but a colloquialism for the anniversary of that birth).  Well … today is mine.  I’m finally old enough to drive … (times 4.56!).  Now, I’m old enough to vote … (times 3.476!).  One of my sons, too, this month, will become a half-century old … which makes me realize: I’m older’n dirt!

It is truly amazing:  Once you reach this age, it really, truly is incomprehensible that so many years have passed since taking that first breath – because our minds don’t allow us to think we’re “aged”!  Our thoughts tell us we can still lift that couch … or a 100 lb. sack of seed … or a box of twenty books.  But … the actual attempt proves our minds still have their roots in the concrete of yesteryear, while our bodies  are entrenched in the reality of … today, (that’s easily confirmed by a quick glance in a mirror!)   Contrary to popular belief … we are NOT as “young as we feel” … and to defy reality by allowing our minds to trump our body’s limitations, when it comes to physical exertion, is courting a hospital stay – or worse.

For those of us whose physical attributes have waned, we have great difficulty in accepting the fact that we now are relegated to the task of “watching”, not “doing”.  That’s the final hurdle we, of necessity, must overcome before we can truly accept … aging.  Our children, whom we used to tell and guide in what they could/should do, and when … have now matured.  We’ve taught them as best we could, and it is now their turn to drive the carriage – and, if we’re lucky, and don’t try to “boss” them, we may be asked to become passengers.

There comes a time when our day in the sun becomes a rocking chair in the twilight.  We need to prepare ourselves to recognize that change of circumstance and situation.  

It’ll be difficult for some of us … because WE’VE always been the one “in charge”.  If we are to survive with our dignity intact and retain relationships with those we love … we have to find a way to hand over the reins – and MEAN it – to the next generation which we ourselves have spawned.

Our remaining decisions will be:  Whether or not to re-bait that fishing hook … or what channel to watch … any decision more meaningful will need to be made by … our kids.

Copyright © Jack Clark | Year Posted 2014

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You must go,yes!
Go against slumber,
When even early birds ignore worms,
But the falling thorns purnish gurus
As the roaming anti-mother blanket kills faint gurulings.
Here we march marshals,
Along grumbling swift paces,we shall!
Walking-yarn appetises expectations,
Since many paths leads to the road.
Diverging to coverge,we must!
As swarming of the apocalyptic plague of the book,
Brushing along all along that belongs,
Into the shipping tower,we all plunge.
Now blinking sea-eyes of a naked mind,
All beholding spoons for a bloodless war.
Its too late to retrieve and hot to hold.
An often dreaded monster you face,
Must in "Government call" retire.
Yes! warm to hum,
like a soldier into war,
triumphant but not victorious.
When asked why? we say,
this is the ROAD TO FSLT.
                         BY:TUTUOLA MICHAEL

Copyright © tutuola michael | Year Posted 2013

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There was this science teacher at my high school.  One of those idiots who had to kiss his boss’ ass to get ahead.  One of those insecure fools who would be far more suitable working in a lab with a microscope up his nose so far his eyes might begin to bulge out, or maybe even at Walmart.

Anyplace other than a school, subjecting poor kids to his nonsense.

So, the incompetent butt kisser somehow won Teacher of the Year.  What a joke!  The students got together, held a makeshift summit and devised a plan, one that would make school history.

Since Billy’s mom worked as a janitor, she had one of those “good” keys.  He yanked it from her one night when she slept soundly thanks to the Ambien Katie stole from her mom’s medicine cabinet.  It's a good thing Katie’s mama never watched the PSAs.

The night of the award ceremony, everyone got into position, and nodded to each other.  Mr. Idiot Science Teacher approached the podium to accept his award.  The administration clapped with cheesy smiles plastered on their idiot faces.

Then, down poured the eggs, “Carrie style."  Nearly 1,500 of them, courtesy of Jared’s grandpa’s farm.

A week later, we learned Mr. Idiot Science teacher retired. He was twenty seven.

Yesterday I stopped by Walmart to pick up some milk and eggs.  Standing behind the register...the retired science teacher.  As I walked away, I glanced down at the carton, thankful he didn’t work in the hunting department.  


Copyright © Natalie The Rogue Rhymer | Year Posted 2012

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i entered mysterious space – endless multidimensional maze
in the old city theater

with index finger on the wall i'm drawing blooming flowers
soft light they spread must be enough to see myself
and audience -

a lifelong team of double sixteen seated in pairs
dusty human size wooden chess pieces in chairs
retired solders and four majestic crowned heads
   all of them oozing so adorably with inborn pride
i observe

God knows: we were too serious
and overtired. who knows why but yes, not worthy Heaven

Destiny brought us together:
not for pleasure or entertainment. in truth, we desired
more than Heaven

longing for unseen Homeland we accepted thorns and tears
neither as punishment or condemnation nor as experiment

on the stage i appear - by chance and by choice
open to question then leaving all expectations
submissive to unwritten scenarios of soul*****let it be!
let it all happen!

Dec. 2015

Copyright © salamandra Gabija | Year Posted 2016