Retirement Art Poems

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

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Details | Dramatic Verse |
Cant lift my eyes beyond half past seven anymore
Nay! I do not wish to see...
Past hyphens and inverted commas
Lies and more catastrophe

Ambidextrous clock with appalling brevity
The second hand throws away society
Caught on the hook of an apostrophe
Hit and run humanity

With what shall I beseech thee?
Amix with soot and grime am I today
I painted me....!  I mascara'd me!
Not this... warpaint for smudges
A discard of society

Sunk in dank mediocrity
Left to dream on the periphery
Sacked and sold with all their niceties
And pensioned off into obscurity

Cascading through the fingers of our hands
Groans the running Namib sands
Camel plods along ignoring facts
Dali's clock is molten wax - a mystery

For as Terrabytes and Megabitten memory
Omits to call- forgets to visit me

Copyright © Jannie Breedt | Year Posted 2016




Details | Free verse |
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

Copyright © Laura Hamilton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Limerick |


RIPAE BENI DEAU VER

In modus fasciculumque Brady pus.
Rogationes, confractum egemus.
Minara excommunica
Ripa nostra, sus amica,
Sic superbum precum, pape beatus.



Story:
http://www.sloveniatimes.com/president-to-attend-pope-francis-s-installation-mass#komentarji


The National Poet Of Slovenia In A Language People Understand moves in mysterious ways. Just ignore him. 


www.jesus.si

Copyright © Julian Bohan | Year Posted 2013




Details | I do not know? |
The Beach of Promises


1.


Fingers entwined, barely touching,
turquoise waters teasing your dancing toes,

strolling along that serene deserted beach,
our promised dreams within aching reach.


2.


Hands clasped, holding on,
sea-breezes tickling the nape of your neck,

walking together, alone, vowing to never breach,
the dreams dreamed on that faraway velvet beach.


3.


Hands in my pockets, alone,
traces of you linger, teasing,

lost in my scribbles, your memory fading out of reach,

my thoughts ablaze, now and then,
catching a whiff of your fragrance,

wafting through alleyways of nostalgia,
your hand in mine on our pristine beach.



Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
                                                                                                        written:may/30/2009
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

Details | Sonnet |
Got drunk as a skunk, at a debutante
Eye catching tat I want.  With no regrets
a masterpiece of art that I can flaunt
clearly expressing my love for Begretz


Fritz  loves Begretz on a red  crimson heart.
When the artist was  done  the tattoo read
Ritz loves  Begets on a red  crimson heart
With grieve I departed , I know I’m dead

Pearl, in no way cared,   that was a big void
I’m all wrinkled wishing I was younger
Instead of  guessing  and getting  annoyed
now you know  the tattoo is no longer

Young  and reckless,   no  more needs to be said
I’m still alive with the  life that  I led

9/3/2016


Poetry Contest 
Which Of The Four Would You Choose -  cartoon #4 
  
Sponsored by: Sara Kendrick |  

Sonnet: 10 syllables per line, rhyme scheme abab, cdcd, efef, gg ..Fourteen lines with last two lines like a summary of the poem..

Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
I hereby retire from this website, poetrysoup.
Thank you so much for reading my poems through
the years, and the awesome comments. I have fulfilled
my obligations to myself, I hope you continue to read these.
I have met a friend who writes awesome poetry on Facebook.
I will leave you with his, and my links.
Thank You,
and have a good day
be someone and make the most of it.
-Bj Fard

www.facebook.com/TheNighttimeDaydreamer
www.facebook.com/BFard

Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013