Retirement Farewell Poems

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

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Details | Free verse |


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 © S.de B.

Copyright © Seosamh De Burca | Year Posted 2013




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 | 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 | Free verse |


(This is an evolving story. I keep adding verses until I'm done.)



When I was 
eighty-two, 
I went to live alone 
knowing the money would 
forever be coming. 
Going away felt appropriate 
for a man my age. 
The closest analog 
to the womb 
and to death. 
To be alive, 
clothed in the 
warmth of certainty 
amid my own unchallenged opinions
during the age of ending, 
out of the business 
of a bright, moving planet 
my own part in the world 
outdated and roots 
severed. 

I found a place
in the middle of the trees 
with a thin asphalt egress 
that made it easy 
to cycle to the village. 
I was surrounded by 
the aliens of the earth 
with their secret languages 
and concentrated lives. 
I truly lived among strangers, 
not those wanting to know me 
or able to know me. 
It was like the world 
before I opened my eyes. 
It was here and far away.

Delivered here in a storm 
under which the taxi 
and me 
and the driver 
were as tiny as sugar molecules. 
The driver introduced himself as Charles. 
He is a black man from Aruba, 
Charles an English royal name. 
I ran to the door 
holding a newspaper on my head 
as Charles soaked himself 
carrying my black bags.

Copyright © Don Schaeffer | Year Posted 2013

Details | Bio |
Green bark a prism creates,
Feel the pull of earth, you must.

Rotates, a slime of endless hates,
Can hold me not, this world’s crust.

Friendship’s ties, isolation Deflates,
Succumbs, my spaceship, to bitter rust.

Mist, my soul forever permeates,
Lift-off, booms the rocket’s thrust.

My spirit when light returns, elates,
Swamps swell, swallowed hope’s swirling dust.

Trapped, I am, until student from fate
Arrives to learn; Cloud City or bust.

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
No farewell
Crossing boundaries all
On and off the ground 
Testimony of breaking records
 In domains many as well
For whom responsibility 
And not simply duty was but God
Scaling heights many
Turning living legend
Master though with dream and
Later achievements massive.
Born with a promise to run
And lead others to run after-
Friends or foes.
Soft and cool
Tender but bold
With passive resistance 
Sans complain and no pride 
Crowned but with no crown
In hearts all adorned 
For years long and ages to come
With humility all
Confidence and pride of nationals all
And respect commanding from opponents too,
Saying good bye to self, 
The first ever love
Who I think had considered
“Sarbadharman parityajya”
To achieve Nirvana
And turning God 
By complete merger in 
Cricket-God’s call
“mamekam saranam braja.”

Copyright © GOBINDA SAHOO | Year Posted 2015

Details | Light Poetry |
The Show Must Go On....

The program has been meticulously drawn up...
Planned to the smallest detail to ensure no slip up..
The performers are primed, lined up and all ready...,
The guest of honor is well seated, calm  and steady....

We're gathered today to pay tribute to a dedicated teacher...
Who tendered 36years of his working life to education....
In his humble and unassuming demeanour  synomous with dedication...
Therein lies a character of honor, love, understanding and compassion ...

Unobstrusively he goes about his daily duties in teaching...
Spreading knpwledge , facts and wisdom unceasingly...
Today is a most historic day full of significance...
For we are here to salute the giant of a man in Mr Leong...

Teacher extraordinaire who teaches without any fanfare...
It is sad to realise this dedicated man of knowledge....
Has to draw time on his pilgrimage to enlighten students....
As one we all wish him well and may he well continue to prosper...

In health, wealth and happiness, and all things good life can offer...
Happy retirement, O great teacher, All the best as you gracefully retire...!

Copyright © KENG CHUAN SENG | Year Posted 2015

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

Details | Prose Poetry |
SECOND  OPINIONS
By Curtis Johnson

It seemed so clear and plain to me that those urges for repetitive behaviors and tendencies were hard to tame.

It seemed that there simply was no recourse from a life locked in “drive” on a one way street that always ended up the same.

Like a loaded locomotive headed across the plains, providing no great views of mountains or rivers; there too was a longing inside of me to stop and get off  this fast train.

As our lives approach the setting of the sun, and the evening star appears, it seems appropriate to take a little more time to contemplate, meditate, and rearrange.

I thinks perhaps it’s true that there is sometimes less to be gained from vain repetition; and sometimes, I think  that second opinions are required to relieve         more pain.
cj012008

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2015

Details | Haiku |
wisdom
tombed in graveyards
of doubt

© Eugene Harvey

Copyright © Eugene Harvey | Year Posted 2016

Details | Elegaic Lyric |
Cooped within ancient bodies, this inhabitant 
dwells amongst an elder net 
of crabby, crotchety, curmudgeonly claque 
of old folks, only a portion of population I met
which achey, flaky, kooky motley crue 
disgruntlement fed as peevish pet
aye be earnest asper assessment, 
but some getting ready and set
to lay down limb mitt less lives, 
even those who survived harrowing encounters as a vet.

quotidian gossipers punctuate air waves while: 
sitting, riding, quartering, puttering, operating, navigating, 
motoring around on scooters (the sole means of locomotion 

for many elderly residents), 
whose sole occupation incorporates:
yelping, yakking, whining, 
weeping, verbalizing,
uttering, thundering, squawking, 
squabbling, screeching, 
rumbling, quibbling, quarreling, 
prattling, pestering,
offending, needling, mumbling, 
maligning, leering, lampooning, 
kvetching, kibitzing, jabbering, 
irritating, insinuating, heckling, 
harping, gabbing, fulminating, 
fretting, exclaiming, emoting, 
denigrating, carping, cackling, 
begging, agitating, 
acting analogous to bad ass kids itching 
for playground foo fight during recess,  

which comparison might be apropos 
since majority of energy and time expended
complaining about nobody's business 
concerning this, that, or another tenant...
(management not exempt 
from badmouth outbursts), 
where nondenominational AARP 
qualified members congregate 
within what constituted former auditorium 
of repurposed elementary school,

hence quite some years ago 
(an honorable NON GMO gluten free 
cheerful toast made, instituting batter use 
then building standing vacant) 
a bona fide unanimous dogmatic, 
heroic, linguistic welcome sans titular viz zit head
where alumni of alluded alma mater, ivory fiery, 
classy academic solvent atomic structure
became amalgamated, appropriated, 
assigned a new life, whereat fob dost 
electronically activate innermost 
recessed sliding doors, principally, quintessentially, resoundingly availing maw formerly 
entrancing students into Schwenksville 
Elementary School, though some years ago 
repurposed with barely a trace 
constituting current subsidized 
how zing facility re: Highland Manor,

the residence of thyself and missus 
(approaching third month anniversary),
whereat I dune hot give a rats ass 
if aimless airless baseless banter, 
ceaseless chatter, dubious dabbling, 
et cetera if this solitary ruminate thinker
the subject de jure of parlayed people portraying penultimate purposelessness. 

Copyright © MATTHEW harris | Year Posted 2017

Details | Verse |


A glass, a sip
A chardonnay
Winding down after the long day
Leave it behind
All forgotten

Retiring soon
One day coming
Passing the baton, the madness
Years of abuse
About to end

Put up with it
For years and years
Now’s my time to heal and recoup
Let others deal
As best they can

Turn a blind eye
And a deaf ear
Someone else’s turn to perform
Feats of magic
Miracles, pouf!

A smile with that
Cherry on top
My tour of duty is over
Thanks for the laughs
It’s been a blast


Submitted for contest SPEAK YOUR TRUTH sponsored by MADISON DEMETROS - January 8, 2018

Copyright © Line Gauthier | Year Posted 2018